hair apparent

One thing I've learned about living in Our Nation's Capital is that where ever you go you are certain to meet interesting people who keep you on your toes.

Last night, I took the metro to meet a friend to see a movie.  As I was exiting the station, a thin young woman wearing a hijab said something to me, but due to her accent, I couldn't understand what she was saying.  I assumed it was something about the weather or the traffic and I didn't want to embarrass myself telling her I didn't understand, so I just smiled and nodded, as one does in these situations.

She smiled.  "You have very nice hair," she repeated.

"Oh!" I said, taken aback.  This had not been what I was expecting.  "Thank you!"  My hair right now is very long.  It's what I call "mermaid length" or to about the middle of my back.  One of the guys at work told me he thinks it's "striking" but I think it probably looks more like this, though not so red these days.

"Yes," she continued. "Very pretty.  May I touch it?"

I was unprepared for this question.  Believe it or not, this is the first time a stranger has asked if they could touch my hair.  And as I never thought this would happen to me in real life, I didn't decide before hand what I would do, as they tell you in young women you should do.  ("Decide now to never ever let a stranger touch your hair!")  So before I knew it I said yes.  (I'm bad at saying no anyway, plus I'm a people pleaser.)

"It is very soft!" she exclaimed.

Again I thanked her and was secretly gratified because I actually had tried to do my hair in such a way that it would be soft.  So I was glad that I could get an external source verifying that my hard work had paid off.

"Yes," she continued, "very nice hair!  You should sell it.  We would buy your hair."

And now the conversation had taken a completely unexpected turn.  Who was the "we"?  Was this woman some kind of hair scout for a wig shop?  If I wanted to sell my hair could I just say yes then and there she would bring out a pair of clippers and give me $100 or whatever the going rate for hair is these days?  Suffice it to say, I was rather taken aback and I just mumbled some kind of thanks and we parted ways.

But it is comforting to know that if I'm ever in a tight spot for money, I can sell my hair, à la Jo March, if only I can happen to run into that women again on the yellow line.

books books books

When I was at BYU, I took a children's literature class.  I didn't need to, of course.  Children's literature hardly has anything to do with computer science.  I even had to get special permission to take it because it was an elementary education class, I think.  Anyway, I had to get someone from some department to sign a form so I could sign up.  It was an absolute delight to be able to excuse reading because it was an assignment.

My teacher was a librarian, of course.  I can't remember now where he libraried.  Maybe at the BYU library.  I do remember a story he told us of a lunch he took at Wendy's one day.  He had been very much looking forward to getting into a book he was reading for a brief half hour before having to get back to a very busy day.  While there, he happened to run into an acquaintance who was a reporter for the local paper who sat with him and talked through his whole lunch.  Of course he was disappointed, but he could hardly have turned the man away.  In a few days an editorial appeared in the paper about how the reporter had saved the lonely librarian from eating a sad lunch alone.  My teacher exclaimed aloud after reading, "Alone! Richard - I was reading!"

Lately I have been listening to books more than reading them.  It appeals to the side of my nature that doesn't like to know what's coming.  When listening to a book, you don't know when the end of a chapter is coming or even the end of a book.  And I can listen while doing a great number of other things, so I can still feel rather productive while getting lost in another world.  It does carry the risk of being rather rudely interrupted when the phone rings, since all my audio books are on my phone.  When reading a book, you can just ignore the phone, but when listening on the phone the ring stops the audio book in order to ring, leaving one to exclaim, "Why are you calling now?! Don't you know Edmond Dantes has just traded places with the corpse of the Abbe Faria and is waiting to be carried out of his prison to his grave?"

The point is, people often ask me what I've been reading lately, so here are the last ten books I've read (or listened to), for your judgement:

1. The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas (ongoing)
2. Hinds' Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard (ongoing)
3. A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens (still a favorite)
4. The Naming by Alison Croggon
5. The Ranger's Apprentice: The Ruins of Gorlan by John Flanagan
6. The Land of Silver Apples by Nancy Farmer
7. The Mirror Crack'd by Agatha Christie
8. Five Little Pigs by Agatha Christie
9. Dumb Witness by Agatha Christie
10 The Hero's Guide to Saving Your Kingdom by Christopher Healy

Honestly I can recommend all of these books without reservation.  So, go ahead and pick one up today.  And feel free to post your own recommendations in the comments.

the terminator

It is a well known and documented fact that I hate spiders.  They are creepy and gross and I suspected they all have a secret desire to eat my face.  I have made a deal with them that if they don't come into my living area, I will not kill them when I am in their living area.  (Really, this deal applies to all creatures, not just spiders.)

I'm very good at holding up my part of the bargain. When I'm out running and I see a spider on the trail, I very carefully avoid it and do not squish it, as it would be so easy to do.  When I am out camping (a rare occasion, I know), I let sleeping spiders lie and I don't kill them, even when they're close to me.  (Unless they get into my hair; all bets are off when things get into your hair.)  I don't even knock down their filthy little webs when they are outside my door, as long as they are outside and seem like they won't try to come in, in good faith.  I'm trusting like that.

But now I live in the south.  I have had several instances of spiders in my bedroom.  So far (knock on wood) they have been small "harmless" looking ones, so I've just let them be.  I suspect my sister Alison would be proud because she always says to let them live anyway.  And having nine foot ceilings and a vacuum without a hose probably has something to do with it.

If there is one thing I will not tolerate, however, it is spiders in the bathroom.  Bathrooms are the area in the house where you are most vulnerable!  You're either using the facilities or showering and half the time I don't have my contacts in when I'm in there, so OH MY GOSH IS THAT A SPIDER OR A BAND-AID?!

The point to all this is that I have become somewhat of an expert of killing spiders in the bathroom.  Well, I've killed one so far, but it was such an easy experience that I feel like I could do it again.  I was even in bare feet!  I just saw it there, didn't panic, grabbed some toilet paper and flushed it.  I was so proud of myself I decided to blog about it because most of you will know what a big deal this is to me.  And also because Tawna has been bugging me again to update my blog and this seemed like as good a topic as any.

P.S.  Doing a google image search of "no spiders allowed" to find the above stock photo lead me to the most disgusting search result page I have ever stumbled upon and it made me want to vomit, so I hope you're happy.  But I did find this guy, so maybe it was worth it.... aaaaaaaaw!  Though there is still about a 50% chance I would try to flush that thing if I found it in the bathroom

north to the future

Alaska is the most amazingly beautiful place I've ever been in my life.  I hope Texas won't feel too bad, but everything really is bigger in Alaska.  There are more mountains than in any other place and they are huge.  The rivers are wide and wild.  Even the small trees are as tall as buildings.  It really is almost enough to turn me into an outdoors-woman.  I can only imagine the hikes and camping and climbs that are enjoyed by the adventurous.

A recent trip took 26 members of the Neeley family to the last frontier.  We started in Anchorage and then drove up to Denali National Park.  (Denali is Mount McKinley.)  We spent a few days up there exploring the area.  We were very lucky in that we got a sunny day to see the mountain.  Apparently, "the mountain" is only able to be seen about 30% of the time because of the weather.

After Denali, we headed back to Anchorage.  The plan from the very beginning of planning this trip was for the Neeleys to participate in the Anchorage marathon.  Most of us (including me) did the half marathon.  It was a beautiful run.  It was hilly, which you should know if you are planning on running it.  But it was one of my favorite races.

And we ended the trip on a cruise from Wittier sailing to Vancouver.  We sailed through Glacier Bay, which has some amazing views.  We had stops in Skagway, Juneau and Ketchikan.  In Skagway, my siblings and I took the goldrush train up the mountain.  Juneau we went zip lining in the hugest trees I've ever seen.  And Ketchikan was salmon fishing where even I caught a small pink.  It was a delightful time.  I had a cabin at the back of the ship with a balcony and it was just lovely to sit out there and watch the country roll by.

I'm sure the thing that Alaskans hate the most is people's surprise with the light.  I landed in Anchorage at 1 in the morning and it was still just twilight outside.  By chance, we were there at the summer solstice, so we got to enjoy the longest days of the year.  If I could handle the darkness of the winter, I would absolutely love the light of the summer.

In conclusion, Alaska is beautiful, and you should definitely make every effort to visit.  Now I only have 3 states left until I've been to all 50.

general disjointed update

Erin and Ben were complaining that I haven't updated my blog much lately and because I pretty much would do anything Erin and Ben ever wanted, I am updating my blog.  If it's long enough, I bet most of it will just be skimmed by most of you anyway.

Living in Our Nation's Capital has still been going well.  One of the nicest things about it is that it is a place that people come to visit.  So even if people don't come visit me, per say, I still see my dear friends when they come to visit for any reason.  So far I've seen Stephen (of course), Lauren, Joseph, Alison, Art, grandma, mom and Erin and Ben.  (I feel like I'm forgetting someone, but rest assured, whoever you are, you are one of my dearest friends too.)  (Visitors always welcome.)

When Erin and Ben were here, we did the typical Washington DC things of going to Cafe Rio and watching the latest episode of "Sherlock".  The next day, I wore them out by sending them to a bunch of museums while I was at work so that when I joined them in the evening to tour the monuments they would be too tired to walk to the Jefferson.  (It worked like a charm.)  We saw the monuments they were most interested in and ended the night at Sweet Frog for frozen yogurt.  We got there right when it was closing, so we ate it in the car and were treated to a view of a couple making out in the car in front of us.  Because when I think of wanting to make out in a car, the number one place I want to do it is in a fairly well lighted and well frequented parking lot.  (Note: I certainly have never made out in a car, which I can say with some confidence because I'm fairly sure that no one who reads this blog will be able to refute that, so perhaps I don't know the delicacies of choosing an appropriately private spot.) We moved the car when we realized what was going on in front of us.

I am still enjoying my roommates and my ward.  I have fairly different schedules with my roommates, so I can go a while without seeing them sometimes.  The other day I saw one of my roommates for the first time in about a week at Target.  She jokingly looked into my cart to see what I was getting.  It was mostly pretty boring, but had a few, um, personal items, that may have been a tad embarrassing being seen by someone else.  I was contemplating that after we parted ways and chuckling to myself as I put my purchases on the conveyor belt to check out.  Of course, who should be the person in line after me, when I had no chance of not being observed?  It was my bishop.  Interestingly, it was actually the first time I met him.  I could have had the chance to escape, but i was so surprised that I exclaimed, "Bishop Larson!" before I could stop myself and then I had to introduce myself as being in his ward.  (The ward is quite large, and I am not an attention seeker, so it's not a complete surprise that I hadn't met him sooner.)

Mom and Alison and Grandma were in town this weekend.  We wanted to spend some time together on the two year anniversary of dad's death.  We went to see the play "1776" at the Ford's Theatre.  It was one of dad's favorites and the rest of the family likes it as well.  I love it because it stars my favorite president - John Adams, the true father of American independence.  And I'm pretty sure I saw the ghost of dad sitting with the ghost of Lincoln in the balcony.  (Lincoln is mom's personal hero, so dad would have sat with him, so he could tell her about it later.)  Mom got a little teary eyed during the show.  It might have been that she misses dad, but I think it was mostly because she loves America.

Aaaaaaaaaand, I guess that's my life lately.  I'll try to be more frequent in my updates, but even just saying that reminds me of this clip.

thank.... you....?

My sister, Jane, is in town for a few days for work, so since she was here, we met up with a few of her friends for dinner.  We met up in Old Town, Alexandria, and, as you know if you've ever been told Old Town, it can be hard to find a parking spot.

We drove around the block a few times and spotted one just a block from our destination.  The trouble was that it was on a one way street and the spot was on the left.  I'm already not the world's best parallel parker (though I did *almost* park in a spot that was exactly the size of my car in Chicago once).  Add to that, that the spot is on the opposite side that I'm used to.  And on a hill.  And the road was paved with cobblestones, and not brick sized ones - fist sized ones sticking out at all angles.  And it was raining and dark.  So, I had a lot of strikes against me.  Then add the last factor that I drive a stick shift.  So it was precarious to say the least.  I had to line up and gun it and then stop suddenly; those cobblestones did not make it easy.  But at last - success! I was parked nearly parallel to the street at an angle that would probably not get my car hit by another car driving down the road.

As Jane and I got out of the car, a man said, "Ah ha! I knew it was a teenage driver!"  It took me a second, but then I realized he was talking about me!  I would like to say that he was an old man with terrible eyesight, but he was probably only a few years older than we were.

So, on the one hand, it's nice to know that in the dark, I can still be mistaken for a teenager.  (I still get college student a lot, but it's been a while for teenager.)  But on the other hand, apparently I drive like a sixteen year old.  I guess you win some and you lose some.

private eyes are watching you

A few days ago, I got a mysterious package in the mail.  It was from Amazon, so I didn't feel nervous opening it.  (I guess that would be a good way to get me to open pretty much any package, provided it looked somewhat official.)  It was the book "The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks" by Rebecca Skloot.  Naturally, I was excited because I love books and I had wanted to read this book.  But it didn't come with any kind of note or indication who it was from.  I searched through it and even checked the package a couple of times to makes sure it was actually for me and I hadn't accidentally stolen something for one of my roommates.

First, I checked my Amazon account to make sure I didn't actually order it for myself.  I do that sometimes (as Scarlet can attest) - order something and then forget I did.  It makes for wonderful surprises later.  But, I hadn't ordered anything of the kind in the last six months at least.

I then asked my sister, Lydia, if she had sent it to me.  We had talked about the book in the past and how we'd both wanted to read it.  I didn't think she had my address, but at least two other siblings did, so it wouldn't be too hard for her to get it.  But she said it wasn't from her.

Next, I compiled a list of people who knew my new address.  (Maybe you think I'm a bit crazy, but I wanted to give thanks where thanks was due.) (And I wanted to make sure it wasn't sent by some creeper who now had my address.)  I searched in my gmail account and through my text messages (thanks, iPhone, for making that easy) and made a list of everyone who had my address.

I eliminated the ones who were obviously not responsible.  Leona, the sweet old lady from the assisted living center.  The HR lady from my last job, who needed to send me my last paycheck.  The werewolf, who hasn't talked to me much since he got engaged (and probably wouldn't do something like that anyway).  Uncle Keith, who just wouldn't.  Dulcinea, who still owes me a piece of art from the last service auction (I haven't forgotten!).

Of those left, the most likely culprit was Scout.  She and Mr. Scout had sent me a wonderful Valentine's day package (very thoughtful!) and it seemed like something she would do.  (She's science-y and well read.)  But she denied it.

I went through the rest of the list, starting with who I thought was the most likely working down.  But the Librarian, Scarlet, Big Brother, Jane, Jo March and Legolas all said they hadn't done it.  Well, now I was completely stumped.  I didn't think anyone else had my address, so maybe it really was the creeper!

But then I realized the classic detective mistake.  I'd overlooked someone.  I'd forgotten that I'd left my address for Scarlet on the refrigerator and during my moving out party, Lady MacBeth had copied it down.  I texed her and - score! - she and MacBeth had sent it.  She said they actually had ordered it to be sent with a gift note, but Amazon must have messed that one up.  Once she told me, I remembered that she'd said that she was going to send me something before I left, but I'd forgotten.  (Like I said - I always do.  It does make for some nice surprises later.)  (So, thanks very much, MacBeths!)

So, pretty much I'm going to start my own detective show.  I mean, with these skills of deduction, how could I not?  But it will probably be a British one because they always solve the case.  Just as soon as I finish my new book.