"I don't know why this is, but the cutest child stars end up being the freakiest-looking twenty-somethings."

I have to confess something. I didn't finish NaNoWriMo. Please don't shun me, even though I told you to at the beginning of the month. But the experience was still very enlightening. I learned lots about how I write, why I write, and I have a whole new level of respect of authors. Seriously, novel writing is hard business and you don't realize just how challenging it is until you try it yourself. I still plan on working on my story, but there are other stories that I need to write, too. If you did finish NaNo, you rock so hard! Some year I'm sure I'll join you in the winner's circle.

HOWEVER. I finished NaBloPoMo! And that's a feat I can be proud of. Did you like the alphabet thing? I'll get back to my normal schedule this week, but I thought it was a nice change of pace. I had a wonderful November and I'm totally positive that December is going to be even more awesome.

P.S. The title quote comes courtesy of the Lil' Bro who just popped in Home Alone. Take that, Macaulay Culkin!

Z is for Zorro

One of my defining personality traits is that I don't do anything unless I want to do it. This makes it really easy for me to resist peer pressure, but it also means that I could occasionally be a difficult child. (Sorry, Mom.) We were visiting my grandparents and the adults were all going to see The Mask of Zorro. I was young-ish enough to not really appreciate Antonio Banderas and I didn't want to go. They weren't going to leave me at home by myself, so they reluctantly bought me a ticket. Even though I was in the theater, I kept my eyes closed for the whole two hours. I prefer to think of it as "sticking to my guns" when some people might refer to it as "stubborn."

Y is for Young, Brigham

I grew up imagining that I would go to BYU for college. It's a great school and I knew I'd have no problem getting in. I applied to three schools (BYU among them) and got accepted with scholarships to each. It kind of took me by surprise when I realized that not only would I rather go to my now-alma mater, but it was also where I felt like I should go. Idaho isn't exactly my favorite state, but I had a great college experience. Better yet, I finished in three years with no debt. Awesome.


Behind-the-scenes Update: My word, I love Thanksgiving. I made apple-pecan pie and let me tell you, it rocked the party. Better yet, there are still three days left of my vacation. Woooo!

X is for X

The setting was band tour during junior year at Magic Mountain. My newfound band geek friends stood in line for two and a half hours to ride X: The Ride. Instead of hanging with them, I could be found sitting on a bench where I alternately people-watched and read my David Eddings book. Seriously, who brings a book to Magic Mountain? Um, that would be me. My intense dislike of roller coasters referenced yesterday was not exaggerated.


Behind-the-scenes Update: Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! I'm grateful for my parents, the Lil' Bro, freedom to speak and worship and vote, warm houses, books that beg to be read, and a pre-Christmas release of Dr. Horrible on DVD.

W is for Wicked

You should know that I don't ride roller coasters. Ever. Well, at least not until this summer, when I decided to grit my teeth and get that rite of passage over with. I had already conquered one roller coaster that day, but in for a penny, in for a pound, right? This was the big one. It cost ten million dollars to construct and had the capacity to rotate through 900 people an hour. With one face-down vertical drop and two cork screws, the ride would last for one minute and forty-five seconds. Quick and painless, or so they said.

All jitters, I sat down next to the BFF and sincerely regretted ever getting in line. The nine-year-old girl on my other side heard me freak out. Her response was, "It's okay. My friends have all done it a ton and they said it's really fun and you don't even feel it." Not helping, little girl! You should also know that I don't scream very often, but I sure as heck did during the vertical plunge. About three-fourths of the way through, I accidentally opened my eyes. This shocked me so much that I blurted out, "Hey, my eyes are open!" I stepped out of the car with shaky legs and I had to confess that it was worth every terrifying second.


Behind-the-scenes Update: Today is my blogiversary! Back then, I had a very different vision for my blog, but I love what it's become. Thank you so much for reading, commenting, and being such a dear circle of friends to me. Here's to many more years of the same!

V is for Valentine

Back in the days when Valentine's Day was uncomplicated, I got a kick out of the holiday. Candy and cards are pretty much my two favorite things in the world. And really, when you up the ante to Star Wars cards and chocolate, I am so there. Decorating the shoebox was always my favorite part. The best year was when we jerry-rigged the shoebox to look like a cash register. The whole thing was covered in tin foil and had conversation hearts for buttons.


Behind-the-scenes Update: John Green, one of my writing heroes, wrote a post about why we read and how teens can handle hard books and interconnectedness and Octavian Nothing. I'm not doing it justice, because it's AMAZING. Just take my word for it and read every critical word.  

U is for Umbrella-less

My first year in Utah was a very rainy year. Most days I'd get a ride home from school with the neighbors, but on the afternoons where there was a light drizzle, I'd walk home by myself, face turned up to the rain. Everything was more settled on those days, with sounds and lights muted. Also, it was a fitting backdrop for my embarrassing emo phase.

T is for Taffy

Barrels of salt-water taffy lined the boardwalk at Virginia Beach. While I never liked the sensation of eating taffy, I loved the flavors (like caramel apple and Neapolitan) and the colors (pastel pinks and bright oranges).  Even though I know that I still don't actually like taffy, I continue to eat it because it reminds me of those days at the beach. 

Behind-the-scenes Update: Did you guys see Twilight this weekend? I did! I'm hoping to write up a review later today, because I miss reviewing stuff. Spoiler alert: I swear the camera man only learned two different shots in camera school--super-up-close and pan-out-as-far-as-possible.

S is for Soda Pop

I don't think I've ever seen my mom more angry than the day when my little brother at age three decided he was going to pour his cup of Sprite all by himself. He carried the bottle to the table, dropping it once or twice in the process. Carbonated pressure caused the bottle to literally pop! upon opening. My mom was none too happy to clean soda from the cupboards on the opposite side of the room, but she was livid about the sticky vaulted ceilings.

Office Recap, "Frame Toby"

Maybe I was just in a mood because ABC canceled Pushing Daisies, but both 30 Rock and The Office were lackluster tonight. Actually, no. Even without ABC's huge mistake, they were laaaaaaame. There, I said it.

Basically, Michael is shocked, SHOCKED to find out that Toby is back in the office even though he's been there for a week. David Wallace calls Mike back after his urgent text---911 CALL ME--which is always effective. They can't fire Toby, unless he physically hurts or sexually harasses someone. Dwight's been taking lessons from The Shield and they decide to frame Toby. Sure, it's illegal, but it's also Toby. Worth it! An unwilling Pam and a disturbingly willing Dwight don't help out much in the sexual harassment department and Michael can't convince Toby to hit him. Mike scores some weed from the Vance Refrigeration guy, which actually makes sense because they're the ones that left the joint in the parking lot in "Drug Testing." Leaving a baggie filled with Caprese Salad in someone's desk is not a crime, so Michael gets off the hook.

B-story! Someone left a mess in the microwave and Pam is not going to be the one to clean it up. Really, Pam? A passive-aggressive note? I once had a roommate leave a note for our apartment that insisted that we would not be able to find husbands if we didn't learn to clean up after ourselves AND she meant every word. Yeah, I don't miss that. There's no resolution to the storyline, although the first deleted scene does elaborate on the sitch.

Elsewhere in the office...
-Creed really shouldn't be around cops. Ever.
-Jim did end up buying his parents' house for him and Pam. It's terribly romantic, leading to a perfect moment of "I love the house, Jim." Aw, huggy hugs!
-More importantly, we got a great glimpse of Jim's arms when he was trying to remove the creepy-a clown painting.
-Ryan is going to Thailand with some high school students. I'm gonna miss that guy, even if he'd just make the microwave mess worse.
-The Vance Refrigeration boys are played by Lee Eisenberg and Gene Stupnitsky, two of the show's best writers.
-Dwight's ideal crime is eerily similar to his perfect date. This is my favorite deleted scene of all the deleted scenes.



There were some very funny parts, but as a whole, the episode didn't mesh for me. The plot lines had potential, but simply were not carried out especially well. The episode was written by Mindy Kaling, my future bff, but her past few episodes haven't been up to snuff. She wrote some of the best Season Two eps, like "The Dundies," "The Injury," and "Take Your Daughter To Work Day," but then she wrote "Benjamin Franklin" and "Frame Toby." She is incredibly talented and I just hope that she remembers to pack her a-game next time around, because she keeps forgetting it at home. Oh snap!

I think the biggest part of why I didn't like this one is because I feel the same way about Toby that Michael does. Seriously, why is he the way that he is? I hate so much about what he chooses to be. Perv ball. Convicted rapist. That guy needs to stick a letter opener in his skull. Also, I feel like the Michael-Toby storyline has been worn thin. Couldn't he get another job elsewhere? Why would he choose to come back to Dunder Mifflin Scranton? I realize Holly barely just left, but I think we need a new character.

Please tell me I'm not alone in my assessment. Or was there some redeeming factor I didn't catch?

R is for Rollerskating

One of the unfortunate side effects of having zero a) coordination  and b) depth perception is the I can't rollerblade or ice skate or do anything that involves my feet more than half an inch off the ground. (High heels elude me to this day.) That sure didn't keep me from trying to keep up with my classmates at the monthly rollerpark activities. I'd start out in the kiddie section and grip the edge and be surpassed by far more talented toddlers. Eventually I'd brave the big rink, but I was never confident enough to try gliding any further than my skates would allow with both of them still touching the floor.

An Important Message From Ned, Chuck, Emerson, & Olive

Listen up, you guys! Pushing Daisies is the best show on tv today. I take my television very seriously, so that's saying a lot. And it's on the brink of cancellation, which breaks my heart. There is a new episode tonight on ABC at 8/7 Central and I am imploring you all to watch it. Daisies is original, witty, visually stunning, and just plain awesome. Lest you think the show is too cute for your taste, the fairy tale charm is balanced with a heavy dose of snark.

Even the tiniest bit of support is going to help the show at this point. There are lots of things wrong with Hollywood, but if you value all that is right with the entertainment industry, PLEASE watch tonight. For more information on how to save Pushing Daisies, check out this guide.

Tonight's Episode: "Oh Oh Oh...It's Magic"
Ned reluctantly agrees to help “The Great Herrmann” (guest star Fred Willard), a famed magician whose animal assistants are being mysteriously killed off. The magician has been a surrogate dad to Ned’s half-brothers Maurice and Ralston (Alex Miller, Graham Miller) ever since their father walked out on them. Meanwhile, Dwight Dixon (guest star Stephen Root) insinuates himself into the Aunts’ lives, but Lily is instantly suspicious of his motives.

The Pushing Daisies Starter Kit Video

Q is for Quirky

One of the sincerest compliments I've ever received was when my boss at the toy store told me I was quirky and she liked that. I should mention that my boss was an older woman who permed and dyed her hair into tight red curls. She wore embellished jeans, Vans sneakers, and cat sweatshirts. Her paycheck was spent entirely on Playmobil for her grandkids and veterinary care for her perpetually sick five dogs. My boss was the epitome of quirky, so...yeah. I felt pretty good about accepting that compliment.

P is for Pastrami

Being the devious older sister, I would all-too-frequently use the Lil' Bro's gullibility against him. For instance, when we'd order sandwiches from sub shops, I'd wheedle him out of his pastrami. "Oh no! That piece of meat looks dirty! You don't want to eat that, so you better just give it to me." It may have been faulty logic, but it was also effective and delicious.

O is for Owl

The Nineties were so awesome. Or rather, the Nineties were all that and a bag of chips. Pogs, Tamagotchis, Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers, and the best thing of all? Beanie Babies. Hoot the Owl was my very first, spawning an addiction to everything Ty. What started out as a simple need for cute six-dollar stuffed animals turned into never removing the tags turned into creating a spreadsheet so I could keep a chronological list of when I acquired one, where I acquired one, and who enabled me that week. (What? I was a weird kid.) This one time at a beanie baby party at a Barnes & Noble, I won a prize for my ability to name the ten newest teanie beanie babies from McDonald's in under ten seconds. I KNOW. Young Gretchen is probably flipping out at Present Gretchen for storing the seventy-some-odd toys in a box in her closet. "You were supposed to becme rich off of those things!" she yells. "Ha ha! Silly girl," I tell her. But then I pause and wonder how much my Princess Di Bear will sell for in thirty years.

N is for Nutcracker

Putting on a full production of The Nutcracker with lyrics set to Tchaikovsky's score with the third grade class was quite the undertaking, so I have the utmost respect for my teachers that year. Our class represented the Arabian princes and princesses and you simply can't imagine how adorable we were, what with our I Dream of Jeannie costumes and heavily applied blush. The spotlights on the chorus were so bright that there were tears in my eyes the whole time, but I'll be darned if that night wasn't one of my prouder elementary school memories.


Behind-the-scenes update: So I was driving home on Friday night when the engine started to sputter and smoke poured out from under the hood. Poor, poor Spinelli is dead. Also, you know what's not cool? One car and four drivers. (This could easily be the premise for a reality tv show. IT'S THAT INTENSE.)

M is for Magic

My grandma came to visit for my brother's baptism and like any grandma, she had gifts in tow. I got a pretty ring that I would wear for years and my little brother received Harry Potter and the Sorceror's Stone. There was enough hype that I was familiar with the title, but I didn't know what to expect. I remember starting to read it and not budging for the next three or four hours until I was finished. Chamber of Secrets and Prisoner of Azakaban had already been released, so I devoured those, too. Then the interminable waits between books started and along with the waiting came the insufferable fangirl period. I can't say that J.K. Rowling got me reading; I've always been a reader. But I can say that she got me writing, so for that I'll forever be indebted to her.

L is for Luminarios

Hundreds of paper sacks filled with sand and tea lights would guide the way for spirit of the Christ child to enter your home. Every Christmas Eve we'd eat copious amounts of Mexican food with my mom's side of the family. Tamales, summer-roasted green chile rellanos, deep-fried chips, and flaky biscochitos made up the spread on those warm-on-the-inside, cold-on-the-outside winter nights.
 Inevitably, someone would always bring up that time that my dad taught me my first joke. I think I was five... Anyhow, the plan was to debut it at a family dinner and so my dad sat me down in front of the relatives.
"What time is it when the elephant sits on the fence?" I asked.
"We don't know! What time is it?" they chorused.
"Five o'clock!" I blurted.
Everyone just about lost it. The correct answer, carefully rehearsed with my dad, was "Time to get a new fence!" but somewhere along the line, I must have decided that my answer was funnier.


Behind-the-scenes update: Dudes, I am so far behind. I'd rather not talk about it.
But in brighter news, I went to the Hotel Cafe Tour (Female Edition) last night and it kicked some serious trash! I was eager to see Rachael Yamagata, Lenka, and Meiko. I hadn't heard of Thao Nguyen, Kate Havenik, and Emily Wells, but they all delivered a great show. They each played two sets of two songs each and worked together on a number of the songs. Emily Wells is so my new girl crush.

K is for Kerouac

One of my roommates had a theory that sometimes it was okay to meet a boy and have a "moment" with him. You had no history with him and wretchedly, no future either due to unforeseeable obstacles. But in that fleeting interaction, you could find someone who understood you. One of my moments came at the end of my last winter semester during a church potluck. I sat down at a table already occupied by this cute boy. He had Dylan-esque blond hair and his arms were smudged up and down with ink.

By some bizarre linking of subjects, we ended up discussing the connections between biology and art. He was taking a screenprinting class and I asked if I could see some of his work. One of his pieces was inspired by "On The Road" and when I murmured my approval, he asked if I ever read it. I had to confess that I had not but that it was very, very high on my list of to-reads and he seemed impressed that I even knew what he was talking about. He was moving away for the summer and I was graduating, so nothing came of it. I have to admit that the encounter was perfect as is.

(Apparently the middle of the alphabet is where all my good guy stories take place.)


Behind-the-scenes update: So you know what's really distracting/awesome? The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. It lives up to the buzz, combining the tactical suspense from Ender's Game with the emotional complexity of The Book Thief, which is high praise indeed.

Office Recap, "Business Trip"

Back in Scranton and it feels so good! More on that later, though.
First, a few tips from advice about international business customs.
In Japan, if you humiliate yourself, you must commit suicide. If you're Meredith in Abu Dabi, you should cover your face with a coat. (Her "Helloooo!" absolutely killed me.) If you ever go to Italy, remember that it's polite to wash your hands after you go to the bathroom.
But what about when you're in Canada, eh hoser? Okay, I'll leave the Canada jokes to How I Met Your Mother.

Jim's got a spring in his step and a song in his heart. Pam returns in 6.5 days! Everyone seems to be more involved with the relationship than ever before and it's a little disconcerting. Especially Creed's shoulder rub and Stanley's "Heh heh." shudder

And then it all falls apart. With a waver in her voice, Pam calls Jim because she's failing her supposedly 12-week program. Didn't she go in June? Yeah, it's now mid-November, but the writers seemed to have overlooked that. Anyhow, the professors switched to Acrobat when she was just getting the hang of Quark and she has to re-take the program. Jim's a good sport about it, but you can tell he's crushed. Pam can barely hold in her tears so she fakes that her battery is dying. Raise your hand if you've been there!

Ever since Holly got transferred, Michael's been feeling a little down. David Wallace decides to send him to Winnipeg for a sales call as some sort of weird consolation. This episode brings together the combination of Michael, Andy, and Oscar, which I don't believe we've ever seen before. Andy comes because of his Ivy League French classes and Oscar tags along for the numbers. It's a short trip up to Canada, but Andy and Oscar are prepared with a personal dvd player (where would we be without those for vacations?) and egg salad sandwiches. I agree with Michael--gross. "Do you also have a bag of baby poop?" It disturbed me that Michael referred to his sleep mask as a blindfold. Jan Levinson really took a toll on this guy.

They are staying in some fancy schmancy hotel with a concierge. Ooh la la! Marie is the name of the Canadian Geisha and if my sources are correct, she was also in Reno 911. Later that night, the boys practically stalk her at her after-work joint, where Michael grills her about holiday dry cleaning. Oddly enough, this works for Marie and they make out. That is good for Michael, who needs a rebound. Remember his last rebound, the Japanese waitresses that he couldn't tell apart? Good times...

We've seen a number of the Office characters when they're soundly soused, but Drunk Andy and Drunk Oscar take home the Dundie for being the funniest drunks. Oscar can't see what Andy sees in Angela. Underneath that ice queen exterior, there's a tiny bit of jelly. If that weren't such a weird description, it'd actually be sweet. Since I've never been drunk, I can't explain the logic behind calling your exes or significant others, but Oscar convinces Andy to give Ang a ring and I do mean on the phone, Santa Baby. What I like about Oscar is that he cuts straight to the chase. "Why won't you do Andy?" Andy says they will discuss it later...naked. Maybe it was completely inappropriate, but I laughed hardest at that scene more than any of the other scenes this season.

Andy and Oscar come to an understanding the next morning. The phone call, by the way, was totally not a dream. Poor guy--he's now back to first base. Oscar gets that it's different with his fellow accountant, so he asks what constitutes first base with Angela. A kiss on the forehead, which begs the question of what the other bases are. Try not to think about it too much. Also, how adorable is Ed Helms? Wikipedia tells me that he's still single and an accomplished banjoist. Seriously, I would date him in real life. Call me, Ed!

In the category of "still funny but losing my interest unless they keep eating each other's faces" are Ryan and Kelly. Now that they're both sequestered back in the annex once more, how can Kelly resist? As it turns out, she can't resist the push-ups and Ryan's still got a thing for a little junk in the trunk. Ryan composes a very well-written text message to Darryl for Kelly and they push "send" together. Those two are precious, aren't they? It's all cool with Darryl, who proceeds to strut out to his truck. Ryan is slowly beginning to fall back to his old ways/lack of enthusiasm and Kelly couldn't be happier! These situations are sad when it happens to your friends, but kind of awesome in tv land.

Since he really is a great salesman, Michael lands a two-year sale with the Canadian clients. He's dissatified with David Wallace, however, and spills out all of his anger about the Holly situation. It really was a sucky thing to do. Or, if you're Jennifer Aniston, it was very uncool of Angelina David Wallace to do that.

In Office lore, the parking lot has special meaning and not just because Pam portrayed it incorrectly in her painting. No, the parking lot has been the home of confessions, broken dreams, and failed proposals. So when Jim walks out and sees Ms. Beesly waiting for him, it is almost enough to make up for all the heartache. (Almost.) Regardless, the scene is perfect. The background is bathed in light--a stark contrast from the darkness of the other scenes. Pam explains that she doesn't even like graphic design and that she missed Scranton and that she didn't come back solely for Jim. Jim walks straight to her with a ridiculously happy grin on his face and he kisses his newly returned petit fiancee. Everyone, say it with me. Squee!


Oh, and Dwight would like those five copies first thing in the morning.

J is for Jedi

He was the Jordan Catalano to my Angela Chase, except I never had a Rayanne to help push us together. Also, he was so much smarter than Jordan and much better looking than Jared Leto. Seriously, he was more attractive than Jared Leto. Read that sentence again. He was also a year older and the president of our religion class and had lived for a year in Taiwan. Cultured, spiritual, and did I mention unbelievably hot? For Halloween, he dressed up as a Jedi and that was the moment when my fifteen-year-old heart broke from unrequited love.



Fun Fact: Today is Corduroy Appreciation Day, as honored by the Corduroy Appreciation Club. This is because 11|11 is the day which most closely resembles corduroy. The raised portion of corduroy is called the "wale" and their motto is "Hail the Wale." (The water-dwelling mammal, the whale, is their mascot.) And yes, I am wearing my cords in honor of this momentous occasion. Also, I get to use the only corduroy joke I know.
Q. Did you hear about the new corduroy pillow?
A. It's making headlines everywhere!

I is for Impeach

For a few years, we had a tradition of mixing our own drinks (Mormon-style, natch) on New Year's Eve. We would invite the neighbors over and eat brie on thin crackers. My dad nicknamed it The Parade of Beverages. That inaugural year, I concocted a drink called "Impeachment." It was a peach smoothie made at the height of the Clinton/Lewinsky fiasco and also at the beginning of my burgeoning love of puns. (I totally won first place that year, too.)


Behind-the-scenes update: Paste Magazine did a short feature on me for their Paste Magazine Dot Com Blogging National Blog Post Month Month (PaMaDoCoBloPoMoMo), which is super exhilerating. You can read it here.

H is for Hot-Air Balloon

Maybe inviting a boy to go hot air ballooning with my family for our second date wasn't my brightest idea, but it sounded like fun at the time, okay? We ended up in a balloon with my little brother and a cranky renowned ballooning genius. Wicker, nylon, and propane separated us from absolute nothingness. The ascent made me lightheaded, but the laws of gravity (and maybe a dash of fate) caused us to eventually tumble back to the ground.



Behind-the-scenes update: It was a good weekend for catching up with NaNoWriMo but I'm still not up to par. sigh!
In other news, the BFF was in town this weekend and it was so much fun. We went out to dinner with a few friends, planned our future weddings (I'm going to have customized Jones Soda at mine), and watched Made of Honor. Related: Patrick Dempsey's hair is a national treasure.

G is for Gym Class

In what surely qualifies as the three most hellacious weeks of my life, I took a summer gym class with my best friends so we wouldn't have to suffer through a whole semester. For a skinny fourteen-year-old with asthma who never played outside because books were much more interesting, this was some form of cruel and unusual torture. My mom consoled me by saying that anyone could live through anything for three weeks--a sentiment she would revise to any given amount of time, such as "anyone could live through a flu shot for ten seconds" and "anyone could live through three years of middle school"--I decided to stick through it. About halfway through, my parents sprung the news that we would be moving back to Utah that autumn. I struggled with how to tell each of my best friends. Charlotte was the first. We ran through the morning's laps and on lap thirty-six or something equally horrific, I wheezed out, "I'm moving." "Yeah, you are moving!" You're running, Gretchen, of course you're moving! Objects in motion and all that! "No, I mean I'm moving. To Utah." "Oh. When?" "November?" "That sucks." "Yeah."

Office Recap, "Customer Survey"

I don't know about you guys, but I always respond to break-ups by telling my friends and family that I'm engaged. The office buys the story, heck, Kelly even buys a bridesmaid dress (white, a callback to Phyllis' Wedding) but Michael's mom isn't so sure. Psych! Holly Flax, we knew ye well.

Kelly Kapoor is in charge of customer service for Dunder Mifflin. She loves people because she assumes that people love her, which makes her perfect for the job. (Sidebar: She's played by Mindy Kaling,  who is one of my favorite writers on the show. Mindy has a new short series on Strike TV called House Poor and it's so funny.) She conducts the surveys for the salespeople, which determines their bonuses. This is a lot of responsibility for a girl who once listed "Beyonce, pink the color, Pink the person, hot dogs, basically anything that's awesome" as her favorite things and whose favorite drink is a seven and seven with eight maraschino cherries, sugar on the rim, blended if you can. (Honestly, I mentioned those because I happened to have her favorite things and drink memorized and I wanted to show off. Impressive, right?)

I'm gonna go out on a limb here and admit that Jim/Dwight is my favorite relationship on The Office. Yes, even more than Jim and Pam. I can't really explain it, but it is. There's something about the competition and extreme differences in personality and the gradual understanding that I can't ever get enough of. Since both Dwight and Jim received horrendous customer reviews, they have to form an alliance to figure out what's behind it. We know they're both superb salesmen, but the reviews aren't entirely wrong. Dwight is highly abrasive with people that he thinks less of. While Jim isn't really arrogant, it is reasonable for other people to view him as "smudge."

Dwight thinks that it might be the mob or NASA or Kelly or money laundering. (There may be some evidence of the last.) Putting his detective skills to the test, Jim pieces together that Dwight was actually correct. Kelly, indeed! Andy nearly flipped his lid when Jim used his personalized coffee cup. Talking to Ryan (who's still a gigantic jerk), Jim realizes that he missed Kelly's America's Got Talent party a few months ago. In a sequence of awesome camera shots, it is revealed that everyone in the office has a personalized mug except for him and Dwight. Eureka!

 (Buy the set of ten mugs at The Office Store.)

Dwight wants swift retribution ("Let's get her!"), but Michael prefers to deal with Kelly alone. The scene that followed was so amazing. Kelly only partially confesses and then tries to get out of it by saying that she was raped. Michael is all, "You can't use that excuse. Not again." and explains that he understands when people don't come to parties because then you're left eating tons of leftover guacamole by yourself. He tries to get her to produce fake tears. It's almost convincing until Kelly collapses into giggles and Michael joins her. It was absurd and dark and sweet all at once.

In what had to have been the most Jim and Pam interaction since the premiere, Pam found the world's tiniest bluetooth phones in the village. I just want one because they're cute. I can't remember the official name--you'll have to ask Dwight. They use them for their eight-hour personal calls. It might come across as annoying/ridiculous, but Jim and Pam of course kick every other couple's trash when it comes to cute gestures. Jim knows exactly what Pam likes in her coffee and Pam knows to ask what color of mustard Dwight's shirt is. The phone situation set them up for a ton of jokes also, like Pam's response to Kelly's "Dwight, get out of my nook!"

Meanwhile, back at the Dwandela ranch, Andy's found the perfect tentist for their wedding. It's two stories, gray, and heated, so nothing too elaborate. Angela agrees on one condition--it has to be in a hand-plowed field within a 5-8 miles radius. Also, a farm house that has slats in the roof and antique tools when you rollover would be nice. Schrute Farms to the rescue! This is when it hit me that Angie has no qualms about marrying Andy and continuing on with Dwight. I love Dwight and Angela, but they deserve better than their current arrangement.

Mad Men's Rich Sommer made his second appearance as Pam's classmate Alex. He invites her to an art show and then asks for a moment alone. Jim, thankfully, is still on the line. Alex explains that if Pam really wants to be an artist, she needs to stay in New York. And it's pretty bluntly implied that he's totally into her. You have to trust me when I say that he is no threat to Jim and Pam. His words about her future hit close to home. Combined with last week's "prank," this will be the catalyst for Jim and Pam to decide exactly what they want from their respective careers, as well as their future together. I don't love the way that the writers set it up, but not only is it necessary, I think it will be really good for our beloved couple.

Geez, what a jam-packed episode. (Pun.) I didn't even talk about the Bill Buttlicker scene or Jim buying his parent's house or the Excaliber Package! Kids, this is how you do November Sweeps.

F is for Fruit Roll-up

I never thought that having a security guard at Job #2 was really that necessary. But while I'd wait for my mom to come and pick me up, I'd ask him how his day was going because I'm a nice person and I do things like that. So sue me. By the time I had my own car to drive, the young guard's glassy-eyed stare had become unnervingly friendly. "Have a nice night," I'd say as I walk out the doors, but would keep my sight straight ahead.
I left work after a particularly rough eight-hour shift and just wanted to fall asleep. I passed the security desk and I dug through my purse for my keys when he suddenly leaned over and thrust something in front of me. He held out a raspberry fruit leather and said, "Have you ever tried this before?" I was completely taken aback and I stuttered, "Umm, no... Are they any good?" He replied in the affirmative and I dashed back to my car, wondering where he got the notion that fruit roll-ups equal flirtation.

E is for Europe

Every little detail was meticulously planned out for me to go on the religious humanities tour of Europe. Eight countries, twenty-four days, a dream come true. I was telling my favorite professor about it and he casually responded with, "Oh, then I guess you can't help us with the Brain Imaging Lab." Wait...what? It was a brand-new three semester research opportunity, which was exactly the amount of time I had left at school. It was one or the other. I prayed, asked literally everyone for advice, and in true Rory Gilmore fashion, made a pros and cons list for each choice. I don't really regret not going to Europe, as there were countless fortunes that came from both the lab experience and staying in Idaho. But what if I had gone? When the thought crosses my mind, I just have to remind myself that even though I wasn't able to go as an undergrad, I will  go someday.


Behind-the-scenes update: Okay, so I'm very much not on schedule with my word count, due to the election. I feel incredibly lucky to live in a country where I was able to vote and make my voice be heard. I can't wait to tell my kids about November 4th, 2008. (Oh, and I also may have discovered Jake and Amir, which is dangerously hilarious.)

D is for Denver, John

Winding through the Black Hills to reach my grandparent's cabin in Arizona, the road trip music was the same every time. I will always associate Enya, Gordon Lightfoot, and John Denver with vast stretches of road. John Denver (may he rest in peace) was a particular favorite. Phil and I would belt out "Annie's Song" and knew right when to hit the falsetto on "Rocky Mountain High."

C is for Cathedral

I took three years of french in high school with Mme. P. She would change her teaching methods every two weeks and not in the good "Oh, let's challenge you" way, but in the "I'm so fed up with high school students and giving them stickers as rewards didn't seem to work, so maybe I'll try forcing them to do math in French" way. The french club would meet every month to essentially eat crepes and nutella, but one December we decided to be ambitious and visit the Cathedral de Madeleine in downtown SLC. Madame told us to wait for her on the lightrail train and when the tram started moving without her, there wasn't a whole lot we could do. I ended taking charge and getting directions from some missionaries. It took us forever to walk there and it was bitter cold and what chance did six teenage girls with limited French abilities have against the big, bad downtown? Madame showed up roughly twenty minutes later, completely unrepentant. In retrospect, we were lucky because she did the same thing to the group she took to France.


(Behind-the-scenes update: I'm right on track with 3205 words as of yesterday. But man, this writing a novel stuff is hard business!)

B is for Breakfast

My dad and I would discuss future plans and issues over hot chocolate and pancakes. I don't recall when the tradition started, but we always tried to go out to breakfast while on family trips, just the two of us. I don't know if he realizes how much that daddy-daughter time meant to me. One memorable location was this fantastic little bakery on Turtle Bay on Oahu. They made coconut half-moon pies like you wouldn't believe and if anyone appreciates a good pastry, it's my dad and myself.

The Joy of Blogging

I'm popping in for a moment to mention two things.

1. You can find my crazy self signed up for NaBloPoMo here. Be my friend, otherwise I'm going to feel like Buzz Lightyear when he flips his lid. I don't want to be like Ms. Nesbitt, friendless and sucking down Darjeeling with Marie Antoinette and her little sister.

2. The lovely Just Lizabell blogged recently about a unique opportunity to get blogs noticed. Chuck Westbrook is starting a project to get unknown bloggers brought to the surface of the blogosphere. Find more details here, but check out his more recent posts for updates on the subject. This is a great idea for all bloggers to consider. While I'm not exactly running my usual operation during the month of November, I like to think that my blog has the potential to be bigger than it is, so it's worth a shot, right?

A is for America

On a whim, we took a trip to Juarez, Mexico with relatively few arrangements beforehand. Phillip had fallen asleep against the car door, but Mom, Dad, and I were still awake and looking for a hotel. We drove through customs and turned right back around, thinking we'd try El Paso for the night. As we crossed the border back into southern Texas, the fuzzy radio station began to play Neil Diamond's "America."


(Behind-the scenes update: Most of these "alphabet series" posts are brief and unedited and a great look into why I've become who I am. A number of them feature food, somewhat unsurprisingly. Today is the SLC NaNoWriMo kickoff at The Pie Pizzeria. Here we go!)