All the Lonely People

I have been entirely fascinated by people in the past week or so. I've really kind of started to get settled into this maid job, and it gives me lots of contact with people. It's very interesting how people interact with us. There are basically three tiers:

(I.) Are friendly and kind to us--engage us in intelligent conversation and speak to us like normal human beings.
(II.) Let us in their homes and then promptly begin to pretend as though we aren't there, or they don't see us.
(III.) Speak disrespectfully to us (and ABOUT us when we are in earshot) and hover over our shoulders to ensure that we do our job.

You learn to really appreciate those who treat you like you're an actual person with thoughts and feelings and interests and aspirations. An interesting side note is that children, no matter what tier their parents are in, will most often fall into the first tier. They haven't yet learned the caste system.

Still, this situation has allowed for some interesting insights in the past week. One day, for example, there was a lady who was just being plain nasty. She kept breathing down our necks and telling us how we should be doing our jobs and how everyone messed up the last time they'd been there. She'd jump into the room and bark some command and then leave rolling her eyes. It was apparent that she thought we were idiots who were incapable of understanding any instruction at all. Incidentally, it made us all feel like crap, and made us mad. My two co-workers had been to her home before, and apparently she hadn't been much better then, so while my first inclination was to give her the benefit of the doubt and tell myself that she'd just been having a bad day, the fact that they attested to her habitual rudeness had me quickly assimilate to their belief that she was, in fact, just an evil woman.

As it turns out, though, she WAS having a pretty rough day. She later confided in us that she'd found out earlier (just before she came home and started wailing on us, actually) of a pretty serious--possibly terminal--medical condition in her life. I realized then that she wasn't really just a mean person. She was just feeling like crap herself, and it was easy to pass that along to us, since she didn't really see us as regular human beings anyway.

My fascination doesn't end there, though. I've just escaped from Happy Valley, where everyone is cut from kind of the same cloth (argue if you will, Provonians, that you are the exception to the rule, but let's face it: there's a pretty predictable demographic). The large majority of the population is upper-middle class, mostly Caucasian, Mormon, young, and attractive. Here in Texas, though, you find all different types. Many of my co-workers are involved in a few things that I had kind of forgotten people do outside of the Happy Valley: like smoking, partying, cohabitation, and employment of liberal use of words that earn "R" ratings by the MPAA, etc. In my current state of BYU narrow-mindedness, it seems natural that I should simply shun any persons involved in such activities. Obviously, they are terrible people.

As I've talked with some of these people, though, I find that they're actually pretty outstanding people. They're trying to do what's right. Lots of them have hit a snag or two along the way, but they want what's best for their families and loved ones.

One woman in particular got me thinking. She was talking about how she wanted to raise her sons to know better than she did--to teach them what her mother failed to teach her, to use herself as an example of what not to be. She had made lots of really hard, really positive changes in her life, and so she knows the consequences of the things against which she counsels her boys. I thought of the Biblical parable of the talents, but somewhat differently: she had perhaps not been given the blessings that many of us take for granted. She'd grown up in a home where certain values were not taught. Still, she's taken what she was given and improved upon it so greatly. I, on the other hand, have been given so many gifts and blessings, and what have I done to show for it? Am I a better person that I was yesterday? Will my children grow up to be better than I am?

It's not what you've been given that counts, but what you make of it.

Expect the Unexpected.

Last night at this time, I had no idea that I'd be spending the first two weeks of July with my beloved Brahms at the Mimir Chamber Music Festival at TCU. Things change.

I was on the alternate list, and someone actually backed out! So now I get to take two weeks off from work (despite having been hired only two weeks ago) and play cello all day instead of mopping floors. Wild.

I'm growing accustomed to life in Denton once again. Barring constant gnawings of boredom and loneliness, I really kinda like this place simply because it's home. I'm enjoying the time with my family. My dad, for example, is hilarious. The other day, he sang a song about 5/4 time signature (to the title theme of the Incredibles): I think the lyrics were "I'm cool, I'm 5/4!" or something like that. He also enjoys playing DJ and putting on weird, cool stuff. It's funny. He gets really excited about whatever he puts on, and turns it way up. My mom then walks through the living room, shouts, "What is this?! Can you turn it down?" and I laugh. The same scene repeated countless times in my life. SOME things never change.

WARNING: MORMON-SPEAK TO FOLLOW.
So, another funny thing that happened was that my home teacher called to make an appointment. I think he may suspect that I'm inactive, because he identified himself thusly:

"Hi, this is Tyler . . . I'm your home teacher . . . from church . . . "

It might also be that he's just awkward on the phone like I am, but I think it's funnier the first way. I can't even blame him, either. I mean, after all, my attendance in 5th ward has been spotty due to family in town, certain missionary farewells, and the like--and besides that, I'm not one to jump up and introduce myself to people, either. So, due to the fact that I've been in the ward for a month now and have only met a handful of people, it's no wonder he should think that. Poor kid.

I'm Lonely

Of course, this is nothing new. I get lonely pretty easily, even when I'm surrounded by people. What's different about this is that I'm NOT around people so much these days, and that definitely makes things worse.

Today, I went to church. After church, there was choir, and after choir . . . well, I just hung around for another hour. I finally decided that I just wanted to be around people who were my age, since I went from constantly being surrounded by my demographic peers to hardly seeing any of them at all. Everyone kept asking why I was there: if my name was on the interview list, or if I had a meeting. No, I was just enjoying being around people.

Introverted as I am, it's interesting what a social creature I am. That's not to say that I don't have my moments when I like to be alone, but back in Provo when I had three roommates and all my neighbors were people who were my age, and in my church community AND my school community (some to a greater extent than others), my solitary time was much more limited than it now is. In fact, it was downright rare. Now the tables have turned, and I don't feel like I'm the part of ANY community at all.

I don't even feel like I've been integrated into the ward yet, though I've been back here in Denton for more than a month now. It may not help that for whatever reason, my attendance in the 5th ward has been spotty, and I keep forgetting about things like Institute and FHE and so forth. Part of it, too, is that the ward is so fluid, and I'm having a hard time figuring out who's actually in the ward, who's just visiting, who's going to be here next week, who's leaving in the Fall, etc.

Still, the fact remains that I spend my weekends hanging out with my parents (Friday night, we watched Madame Butterfly on DVD, Saturday night we went to the Dallas Sympony), and while I enjoy that, I still somewhat wish that I were hanging otu with people from my own demographic at least on occasion. Oh, that people liked me.

My "type"

I've often prided myself on not having a "type." I've had many roommates who could tell you exactly what they prefer: guys with this color hair and this color eyes, about yea tall, with a build like so . . .

This concept of a "type" has always left me somewhat befuddled. I am attracted to so many guys, and I find having a "type" limiting. However, yesterday I had a conversation wherein I jokingly said to my dear friend Drew something about "liking 'em beefy." I realized to myself that in actuality, that's pretty contrary to my actual taste. That got me to thinking about guys that I've liked, and what they've had in common. I got really interested in that idea, so I decided to do some rough statistical sketches of my crush population since 2003.

I found that the most common first initial is a tie between "J" and "R" (16% each), and the most common first name is "Chris" (with 8% of my crushes carrying that name).

As to build, roughly
65% are what I would consider to be "lanky"
20% are "average"
10% are "cut," and
5% are "beefy"

Roughly 65% do NOT wear glasses
25% DO wear glasses
10% SOMETIMES wear glasses

Hair color shows no interesting trends:
40% have brown hair
39% have blond hair
13% have black or dark brown hair
8% have red or reddish hair

75% of Rachel Crushes play a musical instrument of some sort, either as a vocation or an avocation (60% are music majors).

I seem to have preferences toward certain instruments. Of the 75% who play an instrument:
17% play percussion
14% play double bass
14% play guitar
11% play saxophone
7% play cello
the remainder is divided amongst non-classical keyboard, other orchestral string instruments, and winds

Learn to Speak Germasian!

It's come to my attention that some of the things I say should be interpreted in ways other than their literal meanings. This has caused confusion with my parents since I've been back home, so I felt compelled to try and clear things up. I may regret this later, but here it is: Conversational Germasian 101. I'll give the phrase itself first, and the Germasian translation following.

1. (English) He's a good kid = (Germasian) I have a crush on him.
2. You're a good kid = I feel like I should have a crush on you, but I don't really feel like it would go anywhere.
3. I dunno = I don't want to tell you.
4. You're dumb = I feel really comfortable around you.
5. We should hang out sometime = You should call me, because I want to spend time with you but I suck at using the phone.
6. You did a wonderful job at (such and such a performance); I was so moved = You're hot.
7. I love that kid = He's great, but I could never date him.
8. I don't care = I'd rather you choose and be happy.
9. Let's be friends = I hope we're already friends.
10. You're a good person = I love you.

The Queen of the Awkward Mosquito Bite

Yes, friends, that is me. Mosquitoes eat me as though they were on the Atkins diet and I were a piece of white bread. The thing is, they don't just bite me in normal places, say, my arms or legs. They're brutal. The following are places that you should never try to get bitten by a mosquito:

*in between your toes
*on your Achilles tendon
*at the exact spot on the inside of your knee where your cello touches you
*anyplace covered by a bathing suit (trust me, i've got a couple of those right now)
*anywhere on your face
*on the spot on your back that you can't reach

Yeah . . . good times.

In Other News, I got a job! Glamorous. So glamorous, in fact, that people dress up like me for Halloween!



Yes, I'm a maid. Not a French Maid, though, so I don't think I get to wear the sassy black and white digs. The company is called "Maid in America," so maybe I'll look more like this:



















In any case, I think being a maid ramps my sex appeal by at least 50%. Please feel free to fall in love with me now.

Strange Happenings Afoot in Ole Denton-town . . .

I think I just saw a UFO. Now, there's no way that I can be certain of this, but it seems the only logical explanation for what my mother and I saw as we walked our dog around the block. The only logical explanation.

The light coming from behind the tree seemed like it might have been lightning. But it kept flashing, in the same area of the sky, as though it were sending some kind of signal . . .

As we walked a little futher, enabling us to see more of the sky behind the tree, we noticed the light source was filling the whole section of the sky with light--green, blue, white, pink--flashing all the time. Then, suddenly, the lights stopped.

After talking with my dad, we determined that the only feasable conclusion involves aliens, coming to Earth to begin taking over. The lights were clearly meant as a "go ahead" signal--their advanced sort of morse code--for the rest of the aliens on planet Snorg, signaling that the coast was clear, and that they could all land their little spaceships in Denton and everywhere else.

I don't know what the Snorgians will do when they take over planet Earth, but it's been nice knowing you all, in the likely event that we never see each other again.