I bet Audrey Hepburn had bad days too: February 2014

An ode to my favorite worst date

8:38 PM

My Heavenly Father loves me. I know this because of so many reasons and instances, but I know this especially because of the best-worst date I’ve had in possibly ever this past week. It was just what I needed. (I'm actually not being sarcastic.)

It was like someone trained Date Boy before he met me on what I hate most. Almost like when Jim tells Andy how to ask out Pam.

“Do you know Pig Latin? Perfect.”

If I were to advise someone on how to not hit it off with me on the first date I would tell him:

1. Go out of your way to demonstrate how smart/ fit/ accomplished you are.

2. Don’t ask me anything about myself.

3. Tell me how cultured you are, but show zero interest in what I’ve seen and done.

4. Bash on America.

5. Bring up #SochiProblems and think I’m going to laugh along.

I’ll admit this is oddly specific. But this date is so fresh on my mind, and I can’t help it.

I should say right away that this guy is a nice person… I almost feel bad writing this.

We had one mutual friend, which happened to be a boy I dated on and off for a couple of years. I didn’t disclose this information to him, but things got a little weird on my end when he started talking about how judged ex-y was, and how everyone viewed him as a player.

And I’m sitting there like… I’m into double digits with the number of girls I overlapped with… but… Yeah. He really is a nice guy.

That’s when pulled a Kady Heron, and said, “I have to pee.”

But really. That’s when I left to mass text my mom and sisters. Naturally.

Date Boy would have a great date with the girl in your homeroom class in ninth grade that sat in the corner and drew anime figures and only talked to the other kids that took Japanese as their foreign language class. Perhaps because he was the male version of Anime Girl, or even more likely, because Date Boy could talk to a sandbox.

An hour and a half into the date, I knew his hobbies, his dreams, a few of his failures, his hometown, his views on the Idaho education system and all about his man crush on my ex-boyfriend. And he knew I was from Washington.

He did ask what my hobbies were. I started talking, but he cut me off and said, “No, let me guess.” Yes, by all means.

He guessed I ski. Bravo. I do ski. I was impressed. Unfortunately this led to him talking about his experiences skiing black diamonds and how he’d take on moguls, and how easy it is, and I’m like. Slow clap.

I sound like such a brat right now. Don’t even care.

He then looked me up and down and said, “I’m guessing you like to shop.”

Yeah, I actually don’t know how to take this. I sort of hate shopping unless I’m alone or with my mom and/or depressed. It’s normal?

I told him that I actually don’t, and he commended me for not liking to shop because of the “expense of the wallet.” (Seriously, please talk more like a 50-year-old.)

No, it actually has nothing to do with that. It has to do with two things:

1. I get really tired shopping. I run five miles a day, but really, shopping is 50 times more exhausting.

2. When I try on pants, and they’re five inches too long and too tight I wonder: a) why I’m not 5’7” and b) why I thought it was necessary to eat anything in the last ten days.

Anyways, I nodded my head. He started talking about Idaho Fall’s job market. Sweet.

An hour and a half in, I think it dawned on him that he didn’t know uh, anything about me. So he asked what I’m studying. To which I said that I was done, and that I worked for Deseret Digital in Salt Lake.

He then told me about a BBC TV show about an I.T. company.

Not really even kinda close.

But kudos to him for asking me one question about myself. I can’t blame him for not understanding what my job is. In fact, if you were to play this game with my roommates or any family member (with exception to maybe Father Reid and the last boy I dated), the result would be much like in this video. Go to 1:08 for quickest results.

He managed to hit up a lot of my hates. Which I really do commend him for. Like, how do you do that? Maybe he went through training with ex-y. That would be the most logical explanation, besides him being a boggart.

It was definitely an “I hate everything about this so much, that I love it” kind of night. I was smiling the entire date. Probably sent him mixed signals.

I loved listening to him say everyone from Idaho is a redneck when he’s from BLACKFOOT. Of all the places in Idaho to be from where it’s the most “Idaho,” it’s Blackfoot. I will tell you this right now till next Friday.

Later he told me how he didn’t blame the French for hating Americans because when we visit we don’t learn their language.

For those of you that don’t know, I LIVED IN TURKEY FOR TWO YEARS AND DIDN’T LEARN TURKISH. Probably one of the things I most hate about myself, so it kind of stings to have someone tell me you should learn a second language when you’re vacationing for a few days.

WOW, kill him, kill myself, kill Chic-Fil-A.

I think he tried to get a laugh by talking about all the problems in Russia. Homeboy, you are talking to the wrong person if you want to bash on Russia for the Olympics. I have a lot to say about it, but this article pretty much sums it up: http://www.policymic.com/articles/81663/sochiproblems-is-more-of-an-embarrassment-for-america-than-it-is-for-russia

I need everyone to know this: It's so much worse than it sounds. It's like living through a natural disaster. But I loved it all.

Thank you, heavens above for mountains, peanut butter M&Ms and terrible dates. You get me through Wednesdays.

Those reoccurring airport thoughts

3:51 PM

Hopped off the plane at PDX.

I wrote this while waiting for my flight to SeaTac the other night. I decided it was time to record the reoccurring thoughts I have every time I fly. Oddly enough, a few of them have to do with bathrooms. Not sure what that means.

You might not be able to tell in this photo, but I love flying.

Thought #1:

As long as we’re being honest with ourselves, are auto-flushes really doing anyone any favors? It’s amazing the number of times this courteous toilet flushes before my bum actually made contact with the porcelain throne. Thanks, for the anxiety attack, Jon. It’s like the bathroom is deliberately trying to ruin my day.

I attempt to use the seat-cover in airports (rarity in Sarah’s life), and it’s a literal race to squat before the dang toilet takes the initiative to flush for me. I’m all, “Gimme a SECOND.” There’s nothing that boils my blood more than the premature toilet flush. The noise, the splash. All of it.

In fact, I hate auto-flushes so much, I’d be willing to endure one swirly if I had the guarantee of never having to encounter another auto-flush again.

Thought #2:

Who else’s favorite thing is going to the Lou with a carry-on suitcase? I swear the stalls are smaller in airports. My favorite is when they decide to make the doors swing inwards, so getting from inside the stall with a suitcase to the other side to wash your hands is a bigger challenge than trying to figure out Minesweeper without any instruction.

Thought #3:

Every time I flush the toilet on the airplane I feel like I’m being punished. I brace myself, but it’s like when you hear the thumping drums and screeching violins in a horror movie building the scene, and you know the bad guy is going to pop out of no where, but there isn’t any possible way you can prepare yourself enough. In fact, the anticipation makes it ten times worse.

Airplane flushes are my second biggest fear. 1. Clowns.

Thought #4:

No really, the speaker needs to be louder in airport terminals. Airport speakers are capable more than anything to cause you to forget any train of thought.

“Right, so then we were walking hand-in-hand, when all the sudden he abruptly stops, gets down on one knee, is telling me how much he loves me, and I’m freaking ou—“

“FLIGHT #5772 DEPARTURE TO SAN FRANSISCO IS NOW BOARDING SECTIONS A & B…”

“Uh…. And then….”

“FLIGHT #5772 DEPARTURE TO SAN FRANSISCO IS NOW BOARDING SECTIONS A & B…”

“So I uh…”

“FLIGHT #5772 DEPARTURE TO SAN FRANSISCO IS NOW BOARDING SECTIONS A & B…”

“…Yeah. I have no idea what I was talking about.”

You won’t be able to think about flight #5772 departure to San Francisco and Steven Holst that needs to go to the front desk about his seat change for the rest of the week.

Thought #5:

I’m amazed at the amount of power that can go to one head by one badge.

And I know this to be true, because after my first day of work, I came home from work with an iPhone 5s, new MacBook Pro and sprinted through the doors to show my roommates the piece of plastic that scanned me in and out of the doors in the Triad Building.

So, you know, I get it. I get the power of a badge.

But what I don’t understand is when you receive such badge, and it will in one instant make you ruler of all that you see. Which happens to be Terminal B, in this case.

“What are yo—take your laptop out. Does that water bottle have one drop of liquid in there? Are you deranged?”

There are now lines where you don’t have to take off your shoes, belt, or take the laptop out of your bag. You can just walk through. It’s beautiful. I was so happy, I cried myself to sleep.

However, I can relate to the rest of the world that can’t wrap their heads around not having to take off their shoes before boarding a plane.

“LEAVE YOUR SHOES ON! HOLY @#$%^ ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL US ALL?!”

Woah, OK sorry, but in this situation, I feel like you’re yelling at a dog that you have trained his entire life to not lie on the couch.

So you can imagine the dog’s confusion when you give him the privilege of lounging on the sofa. He probably thinks it’s too good to be true.

So please, badge-wearers, give us a break when we’re newbs to this newfound freedom.

The most anticipated post death conversations

8:47 AM

We all have conversations we can’t wait to have when we die, right? In the words of Joey, “I’m curious as… George.” (FRIENDS episode. Sup.)

1. The person that invented Whoppers. “Thanks for the chocolate covered, sawdust, bro. Really, though. Stoked about it.”

2. The first person that “booed.” I would like to politely tell her (I’m going to say it’s the hag on “The Princess Bride,”) that she has created a generation of idiots at any sporting event. Other than liquor, nothing but sports has the ability to turn a decent man into someone I don’t know anymore. I blame booing.

3. The person that created the phrase “nourish and strengthen our bodies” when blessing food. Other than “Gangnam Style,” nothing has been more successfully viral. I would ask how he did it, and if he had any tips for my blog.

4. Anyone that chooses Luigi in Mario Kart. I just want to know what’s going through their head. I want to understand.

5. The guy that blows his nose SUPER loud at work. He’s not dead, but I’ll wait till we cross to the other side before we have that conversation. I’m genuinely curious as to:

a) How I too can blow my nose that loud.

b) What is condition is.

c) Why it is always only twice? “Rahhhsdafj. (Pause) Rahhhhsdafj.” Done. I will explain to him that it’s frustrating because I never have time to grab my phone and record it, because no one believes that it’s THAT loud. It’s just kind of selfish, really. Shrug.

6. The person that invented the Baja Chicken Chalupa at TB. That wouldn’t so much be a conversation, so much as me kissing him/ her? Fingers crossed it’s a “him,” and he isn’t married.

7. The people that wrote the songs, “99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall,” and “It’s a Small World After All.” These would be emotionally draining conversations, but they have to happen. I just don’t know why someone could hate people that much.

8. The person that invented the joke, “How’s the weather down there?” Really. Did you really think it’s hilarious to insinuate that six inches in height will make the difference between snow and sunshine? Also, how did one bad joke get so many followers? I’m appalled.

9. Joseph of Egypt. Talk about a standing ovation.

10. Anyone that chooses 7UP under any circumstances.

11. Whoever thought it was a good idea to put rat poison into something people inhale. Not that cigarettes are a great idea in the first place, but really. Rat poison? Huge thumbs up to that kid.

12. I’d like a discussion with Walt Disney about what I can only assume is massive disappointment with the character results of Mickey Mouse Club members. We could talk about what went wrong, how this happened, why something so innocent has guaranteed rehab by age 16, all while spinning inside a teacup.

I bet Audrey had bad days too 2

I bet Audrey Hepburn had bad days too

An ode to my favorite worst date

Those reoccurring airport thoughts

The most anticipated post death conversations

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