When I grow up I want to be an Atomic Bomb.

Perfect Disguise

So, I have been a bit under the weather the last two weeks.
I even went as far as going to the Urgent Care to find out what the deal was.
They put me on an antibiotics pack, which I later found out that apparently antibiotics make me very light headed. Like I take one and it pretty much walking up some stairs will almost make me pass out.
I know this, because I work on the second floor.

Anyways, one thing I have noticed having this infection and consistently not feeling well is that for one I do not take any illness I have seriously.
I have mentioned this a couple of times before, so I will not go into it again.
The second thing I have noticed is how much people rely on your looks to determine the validity of whether you are sick/afflicted or not. Especially with the men in my life currently.
They were completely thrown.

I realized that it is my make up that throws people off.
I honestly think that I do my make up pretty well and so it really is difficult for people to see in my face that I am not feeling very well.
To illustrate this, I went ahead and took a picture of myself on the day that I was feeling my worst:


You win germs.

So, everyone is upset about the clowns.
They are all over the freaking place, scaring people and threatening people. One of these people who are dressing up as clowns is eventually going to get shot and then that will be a whole huge deal as well.
Mass hysteria is so easy now that we have social media.

But I just want to point out that these clowns terrorizing people is not a new situation.
(By the way, does anyone remember the post I did where I analyzed why people are afraid of clowns? I do.)
Does anyone remember Wasco in 2014?

I do, because this was around the time that I was starting a new branch for a company I was working for.
They moved me out to Provo, UT to a new building park and we were the only ones in the building that we were in.
Since this was a new branch, my partner and I were the only ones who were in this building in the early morning. Since it was winter, that meant that it did not get light out until about 8 am.
We had to be in at 7 and often times I would get there between 6:30 to 6:45 am, when it was really dark.
I was in this empty building by myself most mornings for about 30 minutes when they were having reports of clowns walking around random places.
Often times there would be banging in the ceiling and I was convinced they were coming to get me. We found out later that we had a bat problem, but we did not know about this in the beginning.
So, I would usually end up going outside and sitting on the bench in front of the building waiting for my partner to get there instead of trying to brave out this scary situation.

Now, I don’t remember hearing anything about clowns last Halloween. At all.
But now two years later, I am working for a company where once again I start at 7 am and I am by myself for an hour before anyone else shows up.
In an empty building.
And what is happening again?
Clown reports.
Because the universe hates me.

So, if any of you think that we are getting clown reports because people are messed up and teenagers are dumb, you are mistaken.
We are actually getting clown reports, because I am at my most vulnerable in the early dark mornings.
And this building seems to be making noises as well in the mornings.
Is it all in my head?
I don’t think so.
When I was a little girl and I couldn’t sleep, I would hear things in the house too. My mother would then later on tell me

“Corrie, houses make noises. It’s just settling.”

Settling what?
Not my fears, that’s for dang sure.

Anyways, I am just saying the whole clown thing is not helping me have a good morning each day.


So, over the last year and a half or so my goal has been to get out of debt.
I have also been wanting to be better financially, so I worked on different savings/investment account and even started balancing my checkbook as well as doing a budget.

Now, there is occasionally when I am doing all of this, it seems like I am really on top of things.
Like that huge mountain of debt (not that huge, but still more than I could pay off in a year) is going to actually be attacked.
But then there are days like today when I am making my budget for my 5th paycheck and I realize that making a budget just shows me exactly why I am broke.
It isn’t really helping me to be smarter with my money, it’s really just showing me exactly why I am broke.

For example, random unexpected charges.
Like my gym’s annual fee which is 2x my monthly fee, meaning I am going to be paying my gym payment 3 times this month.
Or Amazon randomly charging me for something that I did not buy, thus over drafting my account.
They did issue a refund, but now I have a nice $35 fee slapped onto me.

I don’t really spend a lot on excess. I really try to be frugal, especially now that I see where all of my money goes.
But in a lot of ways I wish I didn’t know.
Like I wish I could just throw up my hands like “I don’t know where all my money goes!”
Instead I know exactly where it goes and that there is simply a lack of funds currently in my life.

Budgeting is just one of those things that will get better once you do it more and as I slowly pay off my debts, there will be more money.
However, right now I feel like every few weeks I should just create a budget and write “YOU’RE POOR” across it and call it good.
Except once you get in a habit, you cannot stop.



This gallery contains 6 photos.

So, today marks the 63rd wedding anniversary of Rue (my grandfather I live with) to his wife. Anytime I bring up my grandmother, people are always shocked to hear that she is still alive since I don’t talk about her as much and since Rue and I live alone together. She is actually in a […]

Blissfully Aware

I have mentioned on here a couple of times that I take part in the very “fun” practice of online dating.
Or app dating, which I feel is in the same category.
Which many may roll their eyes at, but it is really not as bad as online dating used to be and almost is necessary nowadays.
But I will save the for another post.

One thing I made sure to do when I am on these sites is put on my profile that I am LDS.
I do this, because being religious (outside of Utah at least) is not such a common thing anymore.
By putting it on my profile, I am hoping that I am letting people know about a huge part of my life upfront and saving some time with certain questions that might be asked.
A big one is the hooking up question or grabbing a drink.
It doesn’t save this time though.
In fact, to date, one of my favorite first messages I have gotten on one of those sites was:

“What does ‘LDS’ mean? Likes dirty sex?”

Super close.

Anyways, this past week I got a message from a man who in the first couple of messages let me know that he used to be LDS until he had an “awakening” and realized that all religions are wrong and to just do the best with the time that he had here.
My response was just “Oh, well that’s nice.”
Cause really, what was he expecting me to say to that?

“What?! You’re so right! I’m going to change my entire life right now!”

That was said with sarcasm, in case you cannot tell.
But not meant to sound rude, just to illustrate that there was really nothing else I could say in that moment.

He then said “If you found out today that I was right, would you keep living your life the way you are now?”
Continuing with my simplistic approach, I just responded with “Yes.”
He then said:

“Really? You wouldn’t try all of the things you haven’t been doing because they are ‘bad’ or ‘sinful’?”

Okay, it’s in moments like these where I get this huge smile on my face.
Because when these moments happen, and not just with religion, where someone is trying to apply a stereotype or social stigma to me and I can’t help but smile and think in my head “Oh, you’ve got the wrong person.”

I responded back letting him know that I had left my church for a while and did a lot of those things that, in his words, were ‘seen by my church as bad or sinful’ and that they did not make me happy. That my church was what made me happy and even if I found out that it wasn’t true, I would still do the concepts in the church because it’s how I am happiest.
I ended by saying that I would want him to continue to do the things that make him happy.

…he blocked me after that.
Which is why I couldn’t take screenshots of this conversation for this post.
But keep in mind that this conversation happened over the course of 10 minutes and was only about 6 messages back and forth.

Now, maybe I am sounding like a jerk here in this post in how I responded to him, but I used to try to do something similar when I was not in my church.
I cannot say how he was feeling, but when I left I felt like I had been repressed and that everyone who is in that religion is ignorant and repressed and secretly wanting to do all the things that they “aren’t supposed” to do.
So, I would try to get them to admit it, because for me when I used to do that (I cannot speak for this man) it was a way for me to justify myself and what I was doing.
It was that small moment of condescension and “HA!” of proving that they were wrong and I was right.

I would be lying if I said that living a religion isn’t hard. It’s not popular right now and it is definitely not cool.
And there are a lot of people who do feel repressed in religious settings. I know a lot of people who wish they were out partying or doing some of the things that they would do without our religion.
I know a lot of people that follow my church just because that’s what they’ve always done and that’s what their parents did, so stick with what you know, right?

But that’s not everyone and that’s definitely not me.
I go to church every 3 hours every week, because I choose to. When I am faced with a situation that is, again in his words, ‘seen by my church as bad or sinful’, I actively choose to not be a part of it.
Well, I would be lying if I said it was easier or that if I said I have no desire to partake in some of those things.
But I choose to, because I know that I will be happier in the long run when I do follow the concepts in my religion.

I feel like I am probably rambling at this point and that relating this story is not as impactful as it was for me when it happened.
So, I will just finish by saying that I am a huge believer that people should conscious choose what they believe. Whether it is religion or lack of.
That in order to truly devote yourself to any belief, as you should or is often required when choosing a belief, that you should do so actively.
If someone is having doubts or feeling repressed, they need to work through those feelings until they can find what makes them happy.
That is something that I have done in my life and has made all the difference. It has made it to where when I am faced with a situation like I had with this man, I can easily tell them that I know that my church is true and that even if it wasn’t, I still would be doing the same things I am doing today.
And that either way, I am doing so with every bit of awareness of what my options are.

Rue and the Arcade

For some reason this never made it to my blog, which is a damn shame.
This is a video I made a few weeks ago of when I brought Rue to the arcade with me.

(Video Link Here)

No matter how he may look the whole time, he loves all the crazy places I take him.


I may have talked about this before on my blog and forgot about it, but it’s okay to talk about things more than once.
I will probably post about it again at some point too.

Anyway, I am sick.
There has been something that has been going around lately. The girl whose desk is right next to mine has been coughing up a storm.
Well, I didn’t end up with a cough, but a really sore throat, light headedness, heavy weights on my chest, and body aches.
It started during Monday night when I was trying to sleep. I kept waking up all achey and finally at 4 am I was woken up enough by it to go and get some pain reliever.
Then when it was time for me to get up for reals, I have a fever breaking.

Well, since then it has just been a little bit of that sickness unhappiness.
But coming from a household with six kids, it’s always hard to admit that I am sick.
I can usually admit that I am not feeling well, but actually saying that I am sick is a little difficult.
When you live in a house with 6 kids, there is not a lot of time for one child to be sick, but also, since children are by default jealous of any other kid getting more attention than them, you get called a faker a lot.

Even as an adult you get called a faker sometimes.
This comes in the form of the following phrase:

Are you sure it’s not all just in your head/psychological?

Such comments, no matter how innocent they are, over time lead to an adult like myself.
When I begin to feel sick, I immediately think that I am faking it.
Or that it is all just in my head.
I have to check my temperature or look up my symptoms for justification of my not feeling good.
Or wanting to go to bed early.

And then the logical part of me jumps in and just thinks “Why?”
I mean, why would I fake not feeling well.
I still go to work each day and I don’t sit and tell people I am not feeling well except Rue and one person at work.
I still do any errands I need to, make any calls, and basically keep functioning except I will go to bed earlier and most likely take a nap as well.
But what’s the point of faking sick when you aren’t really getting out of anything?

I mean, I even do my make up still, because I will wake up in the morning and see my pale face, bloodshot eyes, purple under eyes, and sweaty forehead and think:

You’re looking pretty scary, Corz.

So, I do my make up to cover that up.
And I must be pretty good at it, because when I tell someone I am feeling sick, they will say “You don’t look sick.”


Yeah, that’s a picture of me today.
I did my make up to cover up the sickness.
Totally working.

The point is, when I feel sick, I doubt myself and I am the first to think I am a faker.
And then even after I have verified that I am in fact sick, I will still be sitting here thinking “Oh, it went away.”
But then I will stand up too fast or walk up a flight of stairs and drain myself completely.



It is still silliness though, because the only thing that really stops when I am sick is me going to the gym.
Which is a choice that is actually smart considering I can barely walk up a flight of stairs without passing out right now.
But despite this, I got this lovely message from a guy last night on an online dating platform:

Don’t be lazy. Get to the gym and sweat out this sickness.

…I’m out.

Rue says No.

One of the “great” things that my grandpa, Rue, has gotten to experience since I moved in with him is all of my so-called dates that I go on.
I may have mentioned before, or at least thought about mentioning it, that any date I go on is either ridiculously bad or just okay.
There is never a good date and there is never really a second date.
And after each experience with a male, I come home or I come to Rue and tell him about what has happened, because we are best friends. (Whether he wants to admit it or not.)
These experiences usually get the same sort of response from Rue:

Man, times have sure changed since I was younger.

Now, maybe it’s social pressure, but I feel it’s important to point out when discussing dating and someone advocating for me in the dating scene that Rue does not think I am terribly physically attractive.
In fact, no one in my family thinks I’m crazy physically attractive except for me.
I can’t stop taking selfies of myself.


But since the bulk of what it seems men look for in a woman is physical appearance, I feel it important to mention that my advocates are not advocating for me in that area.

One thing about Rue’s feelings towards my dating experience is that I am too nice.
He always is suggesting things that I should have done or said instead of what I actually did, because I am way too nice when on a date and take a longer time than he would to call someone out on the things they are doing.

Anyways, last night I had one of those moments with Rue and men that just made me smile to no end.
This was the extent of the conversation:

Me: So I wrote him a letter trying to be cute and he said ‘It was nice, but I was expecting it to be a joke.’
Rue: Did you say to him YOU’RE A JOKE!?

I was dying.
Not only because it was funny, but also because it’s just awesome to have such an advocate for me.
Also, I would call someone a joke when they bug me in any other situation other than a dating one, because I am trying to be nice.
(You can’t see me roll my eyes at myself)

But I wanted to write about this, because I want a record later on of the “advocation” and support I got from my grandfather.
And also how sassy and funny he was.

I have been reading a book on the history of Modern Psychology and the most recent chapter is about the anatomy of the human brain.
It started by discussing this painting.

Extracting the Stone of Madness by Hieronymus Bosch, ca. 1690

Extracting the Stone of Madness by Hieronymus Bosch, ca. 1690

The reason I like this picture is that there is so much going on that is completely relatable.
I mean, let’s start off with the hat that looks like the hats you wear to prevent aliens from reading your thoughts.
Or maybe this isn’t a hat so aliens can’t interfere with this process, maybe it’s one of his tools for all the things about to happen with this lobotomy.
Either way, any doctor I have ever been to was never this prepared and now I am curious what medical school they went to.

Second, there is the priest that is clearly trying to backseat drive this lobotomy.
Come on, man!
Look at the surety in the man performing the lobotomy’s face. This obviously isn’t his first rodeo and he does not need some Catholic dude telling him how this goes.

Also, since they have not actually penetrated the guys’ head yet, the look on his face tells me that they probably got him drunk before actually stating this process.
But not the fun kind of drunk, but drunk enough that he hates himself and doesn’t want to move.
That’s obvious from his face.

Finally, we have the nun that is looking on and obviously so bored with this process that she feels she needs to work on her posture while this whole situation is happening.

You want me to watch you drill into another guy’s head? Greaaaaat.
You don’t mind if I put this book here, right?

Good help is so damn hard to find.

Dear Utah

Okay, this is my second time living in Utah, which the place I live are usually a bit of a theme on my blog.
Well, I experienced this the last time I was living in Utah and didn’t really say anything, but now my second time around I am a little over it.
I have been here 3 months and I would just like to announce something to all the people collectively in Utah.

Dear People of Utah,

I do not want to go hiking. Really ever.
I hiked when I was at camp each summer of my teenage years. It was the worse.
One time I slipped down a mini mud slide and had to hold on to a branch so I didn’t fall off a cliff. That was ridiculous and I would never recommend it.
Another time they took a rope and tied it around all of us hiking to help us feel unity while we hiked.

I’m going to pass on commenting.
Utah has beautiful scenery, do not get me wrong. The Mountains here are ridiculous. That’s why they put National Parks here in Utah.
But the point is, I am living in St. George and it is a minimum of 105 degrees out almost everyday. I don’t even want to walk from a building to my car, let alone wander around in the wilderness.
But the main reason that I don’t want to go hiking is that I hate being hot and I hate being sweaty. For a lot of people, hiking brings enough benefits to where they are willing to ignore those aspects.
The return on investment (the investment being sweat and physical effort) is there for almost everyone in Utah.
It is not for me.

But I know what you are thinking, people of Utah, if I don’t like hiking, you have an alternative.
To quote a man’s dating profile that I saw this morning:

“Please like climbing. Please Please Please!”

Now, it’s not just men on online dating sites that are into climbing.
People from around the world apparently come to this area of Utah just to go climbing. I have met a few recently that traveled here just to climb and hike. (Again, the scenery is amazing.)
But if I were to make a list of things I don’t want to do ever or even consistently, climbing would be a few spots higher than hiking.
I tried repelling once and I cried the entire way down.
I can’t imagine going the other direction being any better, especially since I have absolutely no upper body strength.
I’m willing to work on the upper body strength, but not through climbing.
These all sound the worst to me.

I went ahead and looked up #Utah on Instagram and just to illustrate my point, this is what I got:

Quit trying to force your outdoor activities on me!
Also, do not look up this Hash Tag, you will get a lot of porn too.
But seriously, almost every photo was of the mountains or doing something outdoors or porn. And I am not into porn at all either. I felt guilty for even looking up the completely innocent hashtag I did after seeing that.
Any guy online or people you meet in person, what do they want to do? Go on a hike.
Go for a climb.
Murder me through the proxy of Nature.
How is that fair? Is there no one in this freaking state that wants to eat ice cream with me on a couch with a fan blowing on us?
We don’t even have to have ice cream.

Anyways, my letter to the People of Utah at this point in time is just to collectively let them know the following:

I don’t want to hike with you.
I don’t want to climb with you.
I am willing to camp or fish or even appreciate/stand in nature with you every once in a while, but not if we have to hike to get to the spot.
I just have no interest whatsoever in the hobbies the majority of you care about.
As I mentioned in the picture I made at the beginning of this post: Please understand that it’s not you, it’s definitely me…But I feel like I am right.
We are just different people and it has everything to do with my upbringing.

Anyways, obviously you aren’t very understanding of this, but I just wanted to make my position clear and announce it to all of you at once.

You can’t see me shrug.

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