Batman and Bird Feeders

I'm getting old.  

Really old.  

The other day I went to my parents' house and saw a hummingbird feeder in its package sitting on the kitchen counter.  

And, with eyebrows turned down in sadness and a frown on my face, thought to myself, 'holy moly, I'm old...I'm now the age of person who has parents who are at the age where they buy bird feeders.'  

Yes, I have parents who buy bird feeders.  And that makes me feel old.  

So, I decided that I better start doing more youthful things.  Things I should have done when I was younger but didn't.  

And one of those things was going to a movie premier.  Shenanigans like staying up to 4 a.m. to see a movie that you could see the next day at a normal hour, are normally reserved for the young.  So I decided to pretend that I'm still young and I, along with some siblings and cousins, went to the 12:02 showing of Batman 3.  

It was great.  First of all, I think Christian Bale is incredibly good looking, as long as he's not too skinny or has too much facial hair, like he sometimes gets (not attracted to overly skinny or hairy guys).  

And then Christian Bale as Batman...double good.  Actually Christian Bale as Bruce Wayne is the best...cause his beautiful face isn't covered up.  

The movie was great, the company was even better, I got to fulfill a youthful dream, and, we got to celebrate Lee's birthday...all in one.  

Unfortunately, due to a California-raised Colorado-residing psychopath, my first movie premier is now an infamous one.  So sad for all those people affected. 

Anyway, I'm trying to do more youthful things.  

Recently, I joined a motorcycle gang...

and rode a Honda 50 around my little town in my pajamas/summer leisure clothes...scaring everyone who saw me...both by riding a motorcycle and by wearing my pajamas/summer leisure clothes in public.  

Next on my list...going back to my youthful/immature past by:

*Throwing water balloons at unsuspecting people

*Going ice-blocking

*Tie-dying something

*Firecrackering

And, doing things I should have done in my younger years but didn't, like:

*Reading Harry Potter

*Watching Star Wars

*Going to the Hare Krishna Festival of Colors (anyone else study and work too much at BYU and miss doing this typical BYU activity?)

Any other suggestions of things I should do to feel young again or should do for the first time before I get any older?  Maybe help someone move with pizza as payment?  Go paint-balling?  Laser tag?

Anyway, all I know is, seeing that hummingbird feeder sitting on my parents' counter was a rude awakening and made me realize that I'd better do all the stupid stuff I can, before it becomes any more ridiculous that I do stupid stuff. 

So, here's to doing all the stupid stuff we can...before we start buying bird feeders ourselves!  

P.S.  If you're already to the bird feeder buying stage, it's not too late.  Return it and come do fun and stupid stuff with me!  I won't judge.  

Local Elections and Another Installment of Rigby 911!

It's the eve of primary elections in our little town of Rigby and I'm having a hard time deciding who to vote for in the Sheriff category.  


Do I vote for the incumbent...

who has kind of the classy Sheriff look going for him?

Or this guy...

whose stache just screams small-town sheriff?

I mean, I don't really have any complaints against the incumbent...I've never been mugged in Rigby and I hear, from acquaintances who've been arrested in the area, that they were treated very well.  

But then I'm drawn back to the opponent, because shouldn't every small town sheriff sport a silver-tipped trucker stache?  

Each candidate has distributed fliers stating the things they'll accomplish as sheriff, but neither of them has mentioned the issue closest to my heart...the Rigby Crime Log.  

What I want to know from the candidates is what they will do to ensure that the Rigby Crime Log will maintain its highly entertaining status.

For example, I'm looking for a sheriff who will:

1) Encourage people to call 911 at even the slightest sign of a suspicious circumstance.

2) Give praise to those who commit creative crimes...you know, arrest and book them and then say...'that was bad, but super funny...don't do it again (wink, wink).'

3) Give whoever summarized the police reports this past week a raise.  I think there must be more than one person who writes the police reports because sometimes the wording is really funny and sometimes it's boring, and the boring writers have got to go and the entertaining one needs a promotion.  

But really, in searching for a new sheriff, it's too bad we don't have someone like this guy...

on the ballot.  He just has such a great combo of a classy sheriff, stache sheriff, with a little Chuck Norris vibe thrown in.  And, he looks like the type of sheriff who would encourage behaviors that would lead to entertaining Rigby Crime Logs.

Like this past week's log...quite entertaining.  And really, a lot of the time it's not even the crime that is funny, but the police report summarizer's way of wording things and their grammar "skills" that make it so enjoyable to read.  

Anyway, here are a few of my favorites from the week, with my comments in italics.  

8:34 a.m. Extra patrol requested on 3800 E. in Rigby.  A resident reported that high school students were driving past Rigby High School, doing U-turns in the farmer's turn out and coming back into traffic.  

Ooooh, not U-turns.  Kids these days...

10:56 a.m. Suspicious person reported on 295 N. in Rigby.  A man was reportedly going door to door and asking for three dollars.  He was reportedly not "all there mentally" and might have been on the influence of drugs.  

That's weird, he only asked me for two dollars and seventy-eight cents.

11:13 a.m. Animal complaint made on 650 N. near Menan.  A resident reported seeing a neighbor's dog kill another neighbor's dog.  The vicious dog owner was said to be unconcerned.  

Vicious dog owners are usually unconcerned...it's part of their psychopathic natures.  However, a vicious dog's owner is usually concerned and helpful.  It all depends where the viciousness is.

11:57 a.m. Shots fired at 4000 E. near Rigby.  Someone during the night prior, shot a BB gun or slingshot near a resident's home.  

Or maybe someone threw a rock near your house, or maybe a bug flew by really fast, or maybe the wind blew some dust, or maybe you're just crazy and bored.  

1:21 p.m. Animal complaint made on 3700 E. in Rigby.  A resident reported that there were large holes, likely dug by dogs, around the resident's rabbit cage.  His rabbits were gone.  

So either your rabbits are the dinner of your neighbor's dogs, or your rabbits just Shawshanked their cage.  Either way they're gone and you're all alone again.  

3:15 p.m. Animal complaint made on 3700 E. in Rigby.  A resident reported that a cat was snagged on a barbed-wire fence.  

So go pull it off...don't call the 911 EMERGENCY line.  A cat stuck on a barbed wire fence does not constitute an emergency.  

4:13 p.m. Traffic complaint made on 3700 E.  A red car was reportedly doing cookies without licence plates.  

How many times have I told you...when you do cookies, make sure to put your licence plates on.  

7:41 p.m. Traffic complaint made on Caribou St.  Someone had parked in an apartment tenant's parking space.  

Dear Tenant,

In future occurrences similar to the aforementioned, please call your local towing company and not the 911 EMERGENCY line.

Thank  you

9:45 p.m.  Disturbing the peace reported on 2 W.  A party was in progress with drinking, screaming, and slamming doors.  

"Jessica, how was the party last night?"

"It was fun...we drank, screamed, and slammed doors...you know, just typical party fun!"

2:35 a.m. Disturbing the peace reported on State St.  A resident reported loud music to police.  The police were unable to locate the origin.

What they didn't mention in the report is that the police officers were deaf...thus making it impossible for them to locate the loud music's origin.  

4:05 a.m.  Suspicious person reported on 3800 E. in Rigby.  A resident reported that two males were outside his or her bedroom window and shouldn't be there.  

911 Dispatcher: 911 Dispatch, what's your emergency?

Resident: There are two males outside my bedroom window.

911 Dispatcher: Are you male or female?

Resident: I'd prefer not to say.

911 Dispatcher: Okay, are there normally males outside your bedroom window at four in the morning?

Resident: Sometimes, but these two particular males should not be outside my bedroom window. 

911 Dispatcher: We'll send someone right out.  

Anyway, there are a few of my favorite 911 calls for the week.  I just hope that whoever the people of Rigby choose to elect as their sheriff will do his best to ensure many more years of Rigby 911! entertainment.  

Should One Trust the Fashion Choices of a Rattailed Woman?

Yesterday I bought a new shirt.  

Today I saw a woman I know, who, as recently as two years ago, sported a beaded rattail...

wearing that same shirt.  

So, should I take it back?

Should I go with my initial gut instinct that it's a cute shirt and just keep it?

Does having ever sported a rattail exclude one from ever being able to make a good fashion decision in the choice of a shirt?  

How do past rattails affect future fashion choices?  

Thoughts please...

The ski lift that got the best of me...one and a half times.

Every once in awhile I get in a weird mood when I decide that I've spent enough time relaxing in my comfort zone and think to myself, 'it's time to do something that scares you/makes you uncomfortable.'  


My most recent comfort zone departure?...Skiing.  Yes, I, Becca B., went skiing for the first time in 20 (not rounded up...truly 20) years.  


Prior to last month I'd only been skiing once in my life...when I was 12.  I went with a friend who'd grown up skiing, but I had never been.  My mom always said it was too expensive, which it is, but secretly I also wonder if my parents are ski-wimps like me and just didn't want to have to take us.   


Anyway, I, as an innocent little 12 year-old went skiing with my friend Angie. She let me go down the Bunny Hill twice before she talked me into going up the mountain.  The plan was to get off at the first stop.  The plan failed.  The first stop came.  Angie got off.  I got scared that if I got off the lift I'd instantly start uncontrollably speeding down the mountain.  So, I stayed on.  Past the first stop, and the second, and then I saw the third, and final stop coming up.  In my 12 year old mind I imagined what would happen if I didn't get off this time...my chair would turn and head back down the mountain and inevitably at the bottom I'd be sucked into some big piece of machinery and would be chopped into dog-food sized pieces.  


And I didn't want to be chopped into dog-food sized pieces.  So at the very top, and last chance for life, I flung myself off the lift.  Yes, yes, imagine head and arms first, torso and legs and skis and poles following...and everything landing in one big heap.  But I was safe.  Yes, I, a completely inexperienced at skiing (and now friend/ski instructor-less) 12 year-old, was at the very top of the mountain by myself. But it was okay.  The big chair lift rotator machine would not soon be tearing me to pieces.  Disaster averted.  


So I did what any normal, inexperienced-at-skiing-but-somehow-on-the-top-of-the-mountain-by-herself, 12 year-old girl would do.  


I cried.  


And then I took my skis off, sat next to them, and slid on my behind down the mountain while trying to keep track of my skis and poles and doing my best to ignore the expletives coming from those who skied around me.  


As I recall, I spent the rest of the day in the ski lodge eating french fries and drinking hot chocolate.  I may have ventured out onto the Bunny Hill again, but I know that I did not get back onto that torturous chair lift.  


Angie never invited me to go skiing again...no surprise there.  But, we did remain friends...which was good.  I even went to her wedding, years later, when she married my 3rd grade ex-boyfriend.  


In the coming years I had opportunities to go skiing, but the emotional wounds from that first experience were still too fresh, so I never went.  And, by the time those wounds did heal, my teenage years were over and I guess I just got busy.  And although I lived in Utah for 8+ years, surrounded by fantastic ski resorts, with offers from friends to take me skiing, and even free skiing passes from a relative with connections at one of the resorts...I never did go.  By that time all I really did was school and work, and then work and travel, and then grad school and work again.  No time for scary new hobbies.  


But then came 2012.  A friend had connections for cheap passes at Kelly Canyon, the location of that fateful ski trip 20 years ago.  And I told myself, 'now or never Becca...time to face your fears...you are well on your way to getting old, brittle, and decrepit, so you'd better go skiing now, while you still can.'


And so I did.  


The only ski-appropriate winter coat I owned was a circa 1996 forest green and maroon Columbia brand coat...in near mint condition by the way.  But I decided that my mere presence on the ski slopes would be embarrassing enough for myself and my friends, and decided it was time to buy a new ski-coat.   

Thank heavens for the end-of-season sales at Macy's.  I got this coat for a steal of a deal.  I thought maybe I should leave the tags on the coat as sort of a "New Skier Warning" to those around me, but I figured my skiing techniques alone would warn the wise to stay away.  

When I was trying on coats, trying to decide which one would suit my new ski hobby best, my brother Tyler was there.  I put on one of the coats I was considering and made side to side skiing motions...like a pro would do, and said to Tyler, "which one of these coats looks the best on me when I'm skiing?"  To which Tyler replied, "I don't think it really matters...because you won't look like that when you ski...you'll look like this..."(and then he made the ski motions of someone freaking out and falling down).  And he was right.  It didn't really matter.  I wasn't going to look like the graceful ski-pro I saw in my head.

Here I am at the bottom of the mountain before I put the hat on that would make me hate the rest of my pictures.  And by the way, from this angle, the mountain looks less like the formidable torture chamber it was, and more like a hill...but it wasn't as mild as it looks, I promise.  

My friend Heidi...who was kind enough, patient enough, and dumb enough to agree to go skiing with me!  She really was the best person ever to go skiing with because she's been skiing since age 5ish...so she's really good, but three of her kids were with her so she couldn't be too fast or awesome.  So I just tagged along as her 4th kid.  

Heidi's 7 year-old daughter, Rylie, helped coach me along too.  We even did a few runs down the mountain by ourselves when Heidi was on the Bunny Hill with her younger daughter, Kenzley.  Rylie was so cute.  She'd say things like, "come on Becca, you can do it, you're doing so great, you haven't even fallen yet!"   And when we got to the bottom she said to Heidi, "Mom, Becca didn't even run into the trees this time!"  It was so funny to get cheered on by my little 7 year-old friend who is 25 years younger than I am, and who is much better at making it down the mountain in one piece.  

I ran into (fortunately not literally) one of my Beehives, Abby, who, thanks to my new coat, wasn't too embarrassed to do a couple of runs with me.  It was fun.  

So you're probably all wondering (if you're still reading this long post) how I did on this 20-years-later facing-my-fears ski extravaganza.  

Well, the first thing we did was head up that very chair lift that gave me so much angst 20 years ago.  But this time I was determined.  I would get off.  I would not let the chair lift get the best of me two times.  But when it came time to get off the lift, I once again saw what had given my little 12 year-old heart so much fear...a steep little hill that seemed to blend right into the mountain which, in my mind, seemed to lead me to believe that if I skied off the lift, I'd end up on an uncontrolled trip straight down the steepest part of the mountain, which would lead to certain death, or at least a broken leg.  And I don't have the greatest health insurance.  So I didn't want a broken leg.

So instead of gracefully skiing off the lift like my friends in front of me did, I, once again, flung myself from the lift and into a snowdrift on the side of the lift.  Head and arms leading, and everything else following.  I ended up in some sort of a convoluted pretzel situation...me, my limbs, my skis, and my poles.  As my "friends" Lorina and Heidi doubled over in laughter, I tried to untangle myself.  The guy from the little chair lift shack came over and offered help, but I said "no thanks."  Because first of all, I too, was laughing uncontrollably, and wasn't sure if I'd be able to get myself up (even with help)...and because I was just having one of those moments...where, even though help would probably be useful, you just want to deal with the situation yourself.  

Anyway, I got off that lift.  Not gracefully by any means, but I got off.  So I'm counting this one a tie.  The chair lift may have beat me that first time 20 years ago, but this time I didn't let it beat me all the way...just half of the way.  

The rest of the night we took a different chair lift up.  One that was way less intimidating to exit from.  And I didn't fall again...at least not when getting off the lift.  I guess that lift we'd happened to go up when I first skied as a 12 year-old was one of the steepest to exit.  I found the other lift much less scary.  What a tragedy though...if I'd only taken an easier lift 20 years ago, I probably would have loved skiing, and probably would have ended up as an Olympic skier...and then I wouldn't be in the middle of a major career crisis.  But I guess I shouldn't say "if only..." 

Anyway, we went down the mountain lots more times.  I really like skiing.  I guess the worst part really is getting off that one chair lift at Kellys (which I am determined to someday master).  

I did fall a lot...

and spent quite a bit of time like this (this is actually after I untwisted myself from another pretzel situation) while Heidi laughed uncontrollably.  

and came home with more than my fair share of bruises...like this ugly one covering the whole side of my leg.  (I kinda can't believe I'm showing this ugly leg picture on my blog but then I guess I've shown my morning hair, so there's really nothing to hide now).  

And I hurt.  And I could barely move...for two days.  

But, I had sooooooo much fun and laughed so much and would definitely go again.  And the last two times down the mountain I didn't fall at all.  So I know that somewhere inside of me lies dormant an amazing (or at least mediocre) skier.  

At the beginning of our trip, Heidi reminded her kids of their skiing rules....which, if I remember right, were:

1) No complaining, and

2) No crying

And, this time, as a 32 year-old, I was able to keep the rules of skiing.  I didn't cry, I didn't complain, and I didn't end up in the lodge eating french fries.  Progress...definite progress.  

MoLent

Ash Wednesday...the beginning of Lent.  Or, for me, the beginning of MoLent...Mormon Lent.  I know I'm not Catholic.  And although the Catholics have had some pretty bad ideas in the past like:

Inquisitions

Indulgences

and

Incense (makes for stinky cathedrals)

...I do think they're on to something with the idea of Lent.  

I first learned a little about the Catholic traditions leading up to Easter while serving a mission in 90+% Catholic Argentina.  I didn't pay too much attention to the whole Lent and fasting thing until one evening, about six months into my time in Argentina, when my Uruguayan companion decided she wanted to stop by our local hamburger stand and order a hamburger on our way home that night...a hamburger at 9:30 p.m.?...I won't judge, I won't judge.  

Anyway, she stepped up to the counter and asked for a hamburger.  "A hamburger?," the man at the counter asked back.  "Yes, a hamburger," my companion reiterated.  "Oh, okay," the man said, "let me go see if we have any buns." Upon returning he told her, "we don't have any buns because we weren't planning on serving any hamburgers today, but we can serve your hamburger on bread instead if you'd like."  My companion and I looked at each other with a "what the heck kind of a hamburger stand doesn't have buns because they weren't planning on serving hamburgers?" look on our faces and left the stand after my companion kindly declined the man's hamburger sandwich offer.  

As we walked home we discussed the oddness of the hamburger stand that didn't want to serve hamburgers.  Back at our apartment, while planning for the next day, I noticed on my calendar the words "Good Friday" stamped across the day's date and instantly realized why the man at the hamburger stand was so perplexed that we wanted to order a hamburger from him.  It was Good Friday...and Argentina is Catholic...and Catholics don't eat meat on Good Friday.  Then we got the giggles.  At the thought of two sister missionaries trying to order a hamburger on the biggest anti-meat day of the year.  

Anyway, I quickly learned that I needed to know a little more about Catholicism since it seemed to be synonymous with being Argentine.  And I'm no expert for sure, but my time in Latin America, as well as the explanations of a good Catholic friend I made in SLC, have helped me understand their traditions a little more than I did on that Good Friday long ago.  

As I've learned more about Lent I've decided that it's a really good idea...to give up something that's maybe hard to give up...just for a short time.  This year for the first time, I decided to start a tradition (maybe a tradition, if this year doesn't kill me) of doing MoLent.  Catholic Lent is, I think, 46 days long...the time between Ash Wednesday and Easter Sunday because traditionally Sundays were already a day of sacrifice and fasting so they wouldn't count them as part of the 40 days.  But, as a Mormon, I think I'll just stick to the 40 days, like Jesus did.  Besides I'm going on a trip at the beginning of April and don't want to be all MoLenty and boring on the trip, so the 46 days of Catholic Lent just won't work for me this year.    

I decided to start off my MoLent tradition with a bang (hopefully a good bang)...giving up sugar and t.v./movies for 40 days and 40 nights. 

So, wish me luck...or join me if you want.  I'd love to hear what you'd be willing to give up for MoLent...candy, pop, the SNOOZE button, t.v., the Internet, Facebook?...What would you like to see yourself survive without for a time?  You should do it...I dare you...

Year-end Summary 2011

I've been a major blogger slacker lately!  But so have most of you too!  I've missed reading all of your posts.  Also, when I changed to this new blog format I lost all the addresses to the private blogs I was reading.  So, if your blog is private and you miss all the thoughtful comments I used to write on your blog, leave your blog address in a comment por favor and I will once again peruse your blogs.  


It's been a long time (for me anyway) since I last posted.  I haven't even done a 2011 year-end summary yet!  I've done a year-end summary every year since I started blogging in 2007 so I decided that even though it's February that I'd still do it.  So, here you go...

2011...

alcohol units consumed: 0 (excellent)

cigarettes: 0 (v.g.)

pounds lost: 30

pound re-gained: 20

pounds re-lost: 15

countries visited: 3 (not too great)

countries visited for the first time: 2

time spent abroad: 2.5 months (not too shabby)

blog posts: 37 (not bad)

nephews born: 1, and he's adorable

parents returned safely to me: 2 (most excellent)

prison stays: 0 (v.g.)

buckets of cheese puffs received: 2

buckets of cheese puffs gifted: 1

2011 was a decent year as far as years go.  I once again stayed away from alcohol and cigarettes, lost a little weight and re-gained it and re-lost it a time or two...just to keep everyone guessing what I'd look like the next time they saw me and to keep my clothes nice and stretched out.  I visited three countries, two of which were new to me.  So I definitely slowed down from my 2010 wanderings but still got to travel a bit, which is always good.  I got my parents back from their captors in Brazil, and got an adorable new nephew to make our family even bigger and better.  And I learned that if you make fun of something, like polygamist cheese puffs, that you're sure to get some for Christmas!  Anyway, here's a breakdown of the year...


January: I spent the first part of January sick.  I think I'd just gotten too worn down trying to entertain a posse of Brazilians over Christmas and the lack of sleep and stress made me vulnerable to the swine flu or some other horrible disease.  I didn't do anything for about a week or so.  My grandma/roommate was recovering from a surgery she'd had shortly after Christmas.  So the first part of the month I just pretty much hibernated in the basement so I wouldn't get her sick while she was healing from her surgery.  Luckily we both got feeling better in not too long and I was even able to head to Ecuador at the end of the month for a few days of solo traveling on my way to Brazil to visit my parents one last time.  


February: I spent the whole month with my parents in Brazil.  It was great to be able to visit one last time.  I finally convinced my mom to travel out to Jericoacoara with me and we had a wonderful little trip.  


March: My BTF (Best Travel Friend) Kate (sadly now ex-BTF due to her recent marriage) met me in Fortaleza and we spent a couple days with my parents before flying down to Southern Brazil.  We spent time in Paraty, Trinidade, Gramado, and Florianopolis.  It was a great last trip for two spinster friends who have traveled the world together during the past six years.  


April: Back in the USA...can't remember much about this month.  I guess I worked and got ready for my next trip.


May:  Headed off on a month-long adventure to India with my friend Marissa (also recently lost to marriage R.I.P.). It was probably the least planned trip I'd ever been on as we had only two nights' hotel booked for a month-long trip when we arrived in the country.  But, somehow things worked out okay and it turned out to be one of my very favorite trips I've ever been on.  What an adventure!


June:  I returned to America half way through the month and frantically began preparing things for my parents' imminent return.  My parents were safely returned to us at the end of the month.  It was/is so wonderful to have them home.  


July:  Idaho at its best...I love July in Idaho.  The weather is perfect, the 4th of July is fantastic.  I spent the month just hanging out with my family and making up for lost time with my parents.  


August: Birthday month...yuck.  I did take a little trip to Utah to visit friends, celebrate my birthday, and to hike the Y for the first time ever.  So, it wasn't all bad, even though I don't like getting all old and decrepit.  


September: Must have worked a lot because I don't remember much about this month except how amazingly beautiful the weather was...especially for Fall in Idaho.  


October: Same as September...beautiful Fall weather and lots of work.  My mom and I threw a fun (at least in my opinion) Ghouls' Night Out Halloween celebration.  It is so great to have her around again...especially for party planning purposes.  


November:  Was blessed to get nephew #2 born on 11/11/11.  Coolest birthday ever for the coolest/cutest little baby ever.  


December: Lots of work but barely any snow, which I was ecstatic about.  And the holidays...it was so great to all be together again for Christmas.  We had fun even though there wasn't any snow and we all (including our Brazilian house-guest) got sick over Christmas.  I'm blaming norovirus...it was pretty powerful.   


Anyway, 2011 had its ups and downs but overall it was a pretty good year. 


A few weeks ago it snowed just a little (we've had the most amazingly wonderful mild winter which I won't complain about).  While I was driving I passed a little girl playing out in her yard in a dated puffy pink snowsuit.  It had snowed just enough to start to fill in the spaces between the blades of grass but not to come even close to covering the grass.  But the little girl was enthusiastically making, or attempting to make, a snow angel in the pathetic amount of snow there was. And she was happy...really happy.  Even though her snowsuit was a little small for her and definitely out of style.  Even though there wasn't nearly enough snow to play in.  Even though she was all by herself.  And even though she was in a poorer, slightly sketchy neighborhood.  She was happy. Genuinely happy.  

And that's kind of how I've felt lately.  Like that little girl in a poor neighborhood in an dated pink snowsuit making a snow-angel in a quarter inch of snow.  Maybe by the standards of the world she shouldn't have been so pumped about her situation, but she was oblivious to the judgments of the world and had a big smile on her face anyway.  

And so do I.  I may be a 32 year-old tragic spinster, who has lost her six best travel friends to marriage in the past year (R.I.P. spinsters, R.I.P.), who is suffering a major career crisis, and who maybe by the standards of the world shouldn't be happy, but who somehow is anyway.  

So, here's to a fantastic, obliviously happy, 2012!  

Merry Christmas Everyone!

It's that time of year for my annual blog-delivered Christmas greeting.  I've searched for just the right inspirational message to share with you and decided that the best thing I could do (since I'm not really the inspirational message type) is to bring you all a bit of holiday cheer via a mini-episode of Rigby 911.  

I have a stack of crime logs I've been collecting for several months from that great literary work, The Jefferson Star, that have just been waiting in all their glory for me to share them.  I circled or highlighted the 911 calls I considered to be the funniest/most interesting/most ridiculous.  They included the typical weird Rigby things like: a woman complaining because "dogs were doing things in her backyard," a man calling to get permission from the police to shoot some pigeons that were pestering him, cars being ransacked, juveniles running wild, hot tubs being discovered under tarps in old sheds (LOVE shack baby!), someone calling to report that their house "might have been burglarized" (yeah, call us back when you're sure), and the typical collection of calls relating to people being potentially scammed or calling to report fraudulent charges on their credit cards.  

So, there was quite a little collection of super special 911 calls from, I'm sure, super special people.  There's no way I could be a 911 dispatcher...especially in a little place like Rigby.  I would bust up laughing at 90% of the calls...people are so ridiculous about what they'll call 911 about.  

Anyway, I decided to just share my top two favorite 911 calls, maybe favorite of all time.  I just feel they are so good that I didn't want the other, just normal good, calls to take away from these two.  So, here you go.  These are real and are written word for word as I took them from the Rigby crime log.  

12:40 p.m. Suspicious circumstance reported on 336 N. in Rigby.  A resident called to inform police that corn syrup was in the storage room in the home and no one in the house knew where it came from.

What the what the????????  First of all, who doesn't have objects of unknown origin in their storage room?...Second of all, don't call the 911 EMERGENCY line.  Just throw the corn syrup away you paranoid weirdos!

and this one...

6:24 p.m. Information given in Northwest Hamer.  A resident reported that someone is in a red parasail and shooting animals from the sky.

I'm not a fan of hunting (at all), but I think this Hamerite may have just invented the coolest/most dangerous sport ever.  

And one more for the road...

12:31 a.m. Disturbing the peace reported on N. Rigby.  Resident called to report that the neighbors were singing loudly.

Fa la la la la la la la laaaaaaaa!

Merry Christmas everyone!  (Oh, and sorry about the singing!)