Girls Night Out

So tonight I went to a sports grill with my sister and another friend. We ate our nachos and drank our Sprites and lemonades and enjoyed the extremely raucous birthday party going on in the corner. Around 10, the dj duo started setting up for karaoke, and the slightly tipsy patrons became considerably more drunk as they took turns watching and enjoying each other sing off-key country, hip-hop, and R&B songs. It was a lot of fun to observe the women in the short, tight skirts start to sway on their plastic heels, screeching to Fergie and Beyonce, while the men fell into tables and chairs as they tried to catch up to the Eminem lyrics flying across the screen.

Then we each took our turns singing our own songs, which was sort of fun, but I much preferred when the three of us closed out the night with the last two songs by Evanescence and Linkin Park. We had all those sloshed patrons dancing, leaning into our mikes to sing with us, and shouting and cheering by the end of the songs. What a fun way to end the night.

And we're going back tomorrow.

Ebit0r Neaded

I was reading through my resume this morning, trying to make it more up to date and all that, when I started finding little errors here and there. The spacing was wrong for those two lines, that hyphen should have been an en dash, the tense in that sentence wasn't parallel... It would be fine and all if this were my first resume and I were applying for a position at the circus. But it isn't, and I'm not. No, I'm applying for an editorial position at a college, where my copyediting skills and ability to produce cohesive speech would be paramount to my deserving the job, and my resume will be picked over by a perceptive, sharp-eyed editor trained in catching even the smallest typographical errors.

But despite my cringing and wincing after every error I fixed, I couldn't help but smile too, because really, it's okay that I can't write anything perfectly on the first attempt. I mean, that's what editing is for, right? So cleaning up my original mistakes just proves my ability to do the job.

In fact, for a moment there I considered presenting a before/after sampling of my resume -- just to give the editor who will be reading it a chance to view my abilities first-hand. Then I saw my name at the top: Cami;la Parshall.

One resume should be just fine, I think.

What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas...Forever!

People are always asking me what my dad does for work. The truth is, I'll never really understand it. He works to make his bosses look good when they have to present information to their bosses. So he does lots of analyses, ratios, statistics, and most importantly, spreadsheets. And the range for these information compilations is phenomenal. But that's not what interests me most.

What I like best about his job is the fact that he works for McCarran International Airport in the Department of Aviation. Because he gets to push around a huge, coffin-sized cart with "MIA/DOA" stenciled on the side. No wonder people ask what he does.

I'd be curious too.

Mid-morning Musings

So Taco Bell has those five-layer burritos for 89 cents that they've been advertising lately. I love the commercials, so I tried one. They're not that great. Still, though...only 89 cents.

My niece Sophia likes my computer. The first time she saw it, I put on Yo Gabba Gabba and we watched a few short videos from their website together. Now whenever she sees the computer, she asks, "Gabba?" and waits for me to turn on the videos again. I've got to keep hiding my poor computer so she doesn't try to turn it on herself.

It's nice in Phoenix. Not "go tanning and become a beautiful bronze goddess" nice, but sunny and sometimes a little too hot. I think I could always live somewhere nice and warm. Dry, desert warmth is my favorite, but I like the beach too. Except the ocean. I do not like the ocean. I just like to stare at it and hear the waves' crashing roar before it creeps me out too much and I have to stop looking. Then I turn to the sun. It's amazing what the sun can do: it burns too fiery hot from billions of miles away and then it pushes its heat and light down on us so that we get just the right amount of comfort and power from its radiance. No wonder we look to the sun as a representation of the Son of God.

I've decided that cherry pie is my favorite kind of pie. But I still love almost all pies. Except pumpkin. I've never tried pecan before, but it looks so gross that I don't think I will unless someone swears that it's delicious on a stick. That's not likely to happen since it looks so ick. Something I've learned: always judge a book by its cover when it comes to food. Gross-looking food is gross-tasting too. And if it has a gross name, it's probably sick too, like chorizo. Gross.

Well, those are my musings for the morning. Hope the rest of the day brings more contemplations. I love not having to work or think on Mondays.

Concerning Burning

We're an odd family.

Tonight we had our annual Christmas Tree Burning, so we convoyed out to the sand dunes and set fire to half a dozen dried-out Christmas trees and roasted hot dogs and marshmallows over the flames. Is it awful that I love burning the trees after the fact more than I love picking them out or decorating them for the holiday?

I did something new this year and wore a hat. I know that quite a large percentage of my body heat gets released through my head, but I've always hated wearing one because of how it messes up my hair and makes it all static-y. But some very awesome people in Utah taught me the usefulness of wearing hats when it's cold out, and that kept me really warm tonight. Plus I sat really close to the fire.

All in all, a fun night.