Yesterday was my third Thanksgiving away from home. My first two were spent in Argentina. Yesterday I spent with my future in-laws. And let me just say that it’s such a blessing to have family on both sides who cook excellently. Not only can my mother-in-law-to-be cook an excellent Thanksgiving feast, but she can cook said feast for 12 people. It was a full table, and full stomaches afterward. Which led Sav and I to take a wonderful nap afterward. Thanksgiving naps rock.

While that was in fact the highlight of the day, there was one thing that I wanted to post about more than any other:

The Twilight Saga: New Moon

Oh, yes. I love my fiancée very much. I was willing to sit through Twilight 2 months ago with her. One of the top 5 worst movies I’ve ever seen. New Moon probably only made it to the top 10 worst movies though. This was because it was definitely a best-effort.

Addendum: Sav wanted me to make it clear that we saw both movies in order to make fun of them.

Best-effort because it was as good as you’re going to get when you’re given a screenplay taken from a book written by Stephanie Meyer. The dialog was laughably awful (and laugh we did). However, the dreadful puns made me want to bash my head in. Ok, we get it–werewolves are like big dogs, but that’s no reason to have crappy dialog. No reason.

Not quite as bad as the material from which this movie sprang from, but trying hard to reach that pit of awfulness, was the acting. My favorite actor was obviously Dakota Fanning as she was awesome. Too bad she only had 3 lines. (Ok, maybe it was more, but it wasn’t more than I can count on my two hands, maybe just one.) Second favorite actor?  Anna Kendrick. She plays Jessica. She’s hotter than Kristen Stewart. She can deliver a line without blinking 37 times. And Jessica is just plain cooler than Bella. I kinda think the third movie should take a page from Buffy the Vampire Slayer and have Jessica realize that the Cullens are vampires and go on a killing spree. Jacob could help her (more on that guy later). Of course, Jessica would have to kill Bella. Because Bella wants to be a vampire.

Now as disgusting as I thought it was that the producers would have 17-year-old Taylor Lautner taking steroids, or even just looking as if he had, out of the big three in this movie, he was the star. He was able to say his craptastic lines without blinking like an idiot (sorry Kristen and Robert–you cannot). Still, however star he was in the invariable cast of bad acting, was it completely necessary to have his shirt constantly off? Hearing adult women ogling him makes cringe. He’s a mere 17 years old ladies. In most states, that’s still illegal.  That all said, I still think they could save this whole miss by having Jacob and Jessica kill everyone. Bella: dead. Edward: dead. Books: dead. Movies: saved.

However, that isn’t going to happen. Why? Because Bella wants to be a vampire. And nothing will stop the awfulness until she is a vampire. We’re powerless to watch Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson deliver bad lines badly. How hard is it to say 5 words without blinking?  Then again, maybe I haven’t caught the vision. Maybe the director told them, “You know, your characters really suck. I think they would be better played if you blinked once before each word. Yes, that’s better. And again after each word, so that’s twice between words. Yes, that makes your characters look more true to form. But we’re not quite there. Now see how many times you can blink while saying the words themselves.” The director was thrilled. “Kristen, you’re a master. You managed to blink 109 times in that 20 second scene. How do you do it?”  ”It’s easy, Chris. I just try remembering my lines, and my head starts hurting, and I just blink.” “Amazing. Just amazing. But 109 times?” “Well, I sometimes it helps when I think about Robert’s left nipple, how it’s got that weird ring around it, and how it’s lower than the right one. Also how his treasure trail really looks good after the special effects crew adds the glistening effect to his chest.” “That’s true Kristen, but please don’t mention Pattison’s chest. I just had lunch, and I’d like to keep it down. I’ve been having nightmares for weeks now because of that scene.” R.P.: “Hey, has anyone seen my nipple cream?” (Blinks 35 times.) “Oh, and Taylor says that he needs more steroids.” Chris Weitz vomits.

I’m bored talking about New Moon.  I am glad I saw it so that I can fairly say that it sucks.  Good effort, but if Twilight will ever be more than crap, it’s going to need a new cast, and scrapping the books as screen play material.

A more fitting book cover.

P.S. the soundtrack sucks.

Learn more about how Bella wants to be a vampire.

Currently listening to: “Supermassive Black Hole” by Muse

We like to chat. We chat online a lot – mostly to randoms on Gaydire. It keeps us entertained. Sometimes we make things up… like our occupation. “We train midgets how to fire-eat” we sagely replied once. Adding “They’re small, so they’re less flammable.” We were put on ‘ignore’. Some people are no fun.

We have also decided that most men who lurk in our ‘local’ chat-room are either thick, boring, or a combination of the both. We decided to venture further afield in search of richer-pickings. We ended up talking to a German guy a while ago. We decided he was nice. Grammar was a tad off, but hey, our Deutsch is mostly based on a badly-taught GSCE syllabus circa 1994. We can ask for directions to the town hall and not a lot else.

He told us a few weeks ago he was coming to London in December. Before we could say “Wie komme ich am besten zum Rathaus”, we had him booking train tickets North. We had had some wine.

Our Neue Freund arrives in town next weekend. We find ourself playing tour-guide. We told a friend of ours of his impending trip. She enquired “Is he expecting a shag?” She is a lesbian. They are not renowned for their tact. It is a fair comment however… we wouldn’t say no.

We have decided to embrace our new found cross-border explorations and hope that our attempt at playing host does not put our visitor off England for life. We have warned our friends that comedy German accents are banned and are stocking up on Becks.

We will keep you posted… und so weiter.

The only camera I had back then was a phone camera (what a l0s3r), so I missed out on capturing the best 4 years of my life. Thank god for friends like Megansimsy, Sheena the camwhore, Yihao the gadget boy, Nonya Wong, Eileen etc and of course Facebook who took down those Kodak moments for me.

I like Felicia’s dress!!

Simsy says:

“Fml @smellyarmpits just texted me to say he saw me in nettings. Nettings……. /wrist”

“Sorry 4 the spam but ‘Lol lol you look like you’re going to club with the lucky plaza mates.’ z.”

We had dinner at SushiDon and almost everyone else ordered Ramen. I swore never to eat Ramen excpet Ajisen’s cause most of them just taste like maggie mee. I had pan-fried udon which… sucked still.

Everyone else had to leave so Megan, Jy and I went to Clarke Quay. Love the scenery!! Will get my future boyfriend to take me there xx

I told you not to laugh at Megan alr. Now she’s angry…

Simsy & I went back to Funan and had Shaker fries (YES IT’S BACK) with Sheena after that. I had a ball of time bitching with them, laughing till I cried and watching Sheena point her middle fingers at Megan like it was a machine gun!!

Dad went for OP today and he’s fine now. His office transferred him to Class A ward and he told the nurses “I’m moving to a Singaporean ward, with Singaporean nurses!” haha! There was even a personal computer/TV in the ward!! He was more interested in the gadgets than what the nurse had to say about his wound. His Safra insurance pays him $50/day when he’s in hospital while his office covers the bill, so he wants to stay for a day more

Anyway, I received an email abt “potential top students” but they highlighted issues like “This ‘top list’ is harder to draw up, all the more because some of you have excellent grades, but ‘average’ (or worse, ’poor’) CCA involvement or civics tutors’ feedback. ” Now, that’s a wake up call

na tumalon/Sa bintana/ng bahay ko/At sa pagtalon ko/Bali-bali buto… (sing to the tune of I Have a Dream from Mamma Mia!) ~”Remixed” lyrics by my friend the Elephant. ;P

No, that’s not what I’m going to talk about. xD

I felt quite abused this morning. I was waiting for Akiko-senpai to arrive because I had something to show her, so I dumped my things on the benches(? They’re not really benches) in front of the fourth-year’s building, along with all my other friends’ things. After a while I got a message from her, telling me to come to the library foyer (the entrance she usually uses) after ten minutes and help immediately, accompanied by several exclamation points. I thought, What? What does she need help for? It must be something really very important! As I had read the message right when the ten minutes were up, I ran the whole the entire stretch between the fourth-years’ building and the library foyer, which was most definitely not a short distance to cover.

When I arrived, she, her sister and a batchmate had just stepped in. She definitely didn’t look like she was in trouble, however, I found out why she called for me in just a few seconds. After she got her things through the guard (everyone’s stuff gets examined before being allowed to enter the school), she gave me a huge smile and held out the heavy-looking plastic bags she was carrying to me. I blinked twice before I registered her intentions. Her friend, Yuri-senpai, was smiling in amusement and her sister just said, “I didn’t think you’d actually appear!”

***. She’s making me carry her things for her again. No, I’m not saying that she’s fooled me twice (I’m not that stupid!). The last time I carried her stuff for her was when… Shoot. That was also when she had her FIT program. >_>

I feel so abused. I allow my senpais to bully me (because they are senpais, after all), but there is only so much that I can tolerate. @_@

On the other hand, 90% of today’s missions were accomplished. *happy, but not quite* I must achieve 100% tomorrow.

The Mirriam-Webster online dictionary defines ‘escapades’ as

“a usually adventurous action that runs counter to approved or conventional conduct”.

That seems appropriate.

It always starts the same way…

…before Thanksgiving break, which means that I’m only 9 days away from being able to listen to Christmas music.  I love Christmas.  More than my own birthday.  And along with loving Christmas, I love Christmas music.  I probably only have about 5 CDs on my iPod, but I will listen to them tirelessly until New Years.  (I love Christmas music so much, I usually break down around June or July and listen to some to tide me over.  It’s probably taboo, but I don’t care.)

Along with being allowed to listen to Christmas music, Thanksgiving will bring trip #2 to Sav’s family.  Last time I met them (trip #1, obviously), I asked her dad for his daughter’s hand in marriage.  And he hardly knew me, so I guess I am thinking of this Thanksgiving break as an opportunity to get to know them better, and a chance for them to get to know me.  I’m sure it’s strange to think that your oldest daughter or sister is going to marry some guy that you’ve really only met once and spent only a few hours getting to know him.  So hopefully they can get to know me as I get to know them.  And hopefully they still like me.

Last, and probably still least, next week brings the BYU vs. Utah game.  The first that I will attend in my 4 years at BYU.  This includes a year that I had a ticket to the game.  Hopefully BYU can hold their home ground, since they’ve already failed to do that twice this year.

Well, it’s going to be a good vacation, as long as I can get everything done in school before the break.  Why my teacher thought it would be nice to assign a paper due right before vacation, I don’t know.

Currently listening to: “1 Nephi 4″ by Nephi

This last weekend was so much fun.  I’ve heard and read that you should marry your best friend.  Well, I’ve got that one covered.  Everything is more fun with Sav around.

We went up to Idaho this weekend to see my family.  My mom and sisters wanted to throw Savitrii a bridal shower, so Saturday my dad, grandpa, and bro-in-law headed to the indoor shooting range for some paper killing.  Good guy stuff while Sav got to know some of the women in my family.  I put a lot of lead through the head of my target.  My grandpa out-shot all of us.  Everything he shot was in a nice little group in the middle of the chest.  Being a life-long hunter and ex-police officer, it’s not a surprise, but I was still mad impressed.

Once we got back, Sav showed me all the loot we got.  I’m not sure how much if any of my family reads this, but if so, THANKS!  The closer we get to the big day (47 days), the more I realize that all those gifts are life-savers, because getting married and being married costs money, and all those gifts help tons.

This weekend was highlighted by my first trip of the year, and Sav’s first trip ever, to Lava Hot Springs.  There is nothing more relaxing than sitting in those hot pools.  That was a lot of fun too because my sister Roxy and her husband Spenz went with us and gave us some advice….

The weekend was awesome.  I wish everyone could marry their best friend.  I can’t wait to marry mine.  47 days.  November is half over.  In a little over a month, Sav and I will be done with classes and just have to get through the holidays.  Christmas is going to rock this year.

Today I was thinking about how the closer we get to our date, the more and more 1 day seems to make a difference.  I’ll probably make a post with the table I had in mind.

Currently listening to: “The Christmas Song” by Owl City

Itinakwil ako ng aking mga kasapi sa chamber ensemble. (if you don’t understand this, it’s all right)

This morning I texted Akiko-senpai to ask if we (the unofficial school chamber ensemble) were really going to play along with the Liturgical choir today. We weren’t able to do so last month, apparently because traffic was really very bad. I didn’t quite want to get no as an answer because I’m counting my participation with the choir in with my project in Religion class, which is community service. I said, “If we’re not going to play today, then I’m going to go back to sleep.” Suddenly I got three messages at once, two from Akiko-senpai and one from her sister Chishi, telling me to wake up and pack my music things because we’d be playing today. I left the house pretty late, but was able to get to the church ahead of time because most people were staying home to watch the Pacquiao-Cotto fight. *sigh* The Filipino people are truly devout disciples of Pacquiao Boxing. When I got to the church, I happened to see a few unread messages on my phone. What is it this time? I thought. The messages said that both Akiko-senpai and Chishi wouldn’t be able to make it because Chishi had… some problems. (>_>) By then I had already tuned my flute to the electric piano. What the heck is going on? Don’t tell me even the teacher isn’t coming to save me!

As you may be able to guess by the title, no, my teacher did not arrive. The choir’s pianist was kind enough to allow me to play along, since I’d taken the trouble to show up and all. It was actually pretty funny, because even the choir wasn’t complete. I know quite a few people who are members, but most of them didn’t show up. I suppose it was all right, because I wasn’t a complete failure and I was actually audible, for once. I just hope I don’t get stood up again.

My ex-colleague just sent me a list of coolio hotel rooms in Taiwan. – C, this is for your reference! (: 

Largely for girls who want to stay in a castle.

For the soccer fans – Man-U fans and anti Man-U fans (idea: you can vandalise that place).

For pple who love Pirates of the Caribbean. HAHA – Bern!

For my sister whose favorite Disney Princess is Ariel.

For C – you and your hedonistic gambling past time! 

There is a jackpot machine! C, can see anot?! HAHA

For girls who want to live happily ever after – ME! (: But the bed inside the carriage looks small and uncomfortable!

As you can see, I am terribly bored. Time to mug. :/

Jiemeis had Teppanyaki at Eileen’s again yesterday, happy happy. There was sashimi this time and Royce truffles!! Eileen fed my one this morning and I devoured it in one mouth. What a waste. Halfway through dinner last night, Ly, Brenda and I decided to sleepover and have a HTHT session. Elissa, Eileen and I ended up dozing off at 12 plus, the earliest I’ve slept in days. Ly the power woman stayed up to watch Sister’s Keeper and did not cry at all! Of course, guess who woke up the latest this morning?!?

Those are Elissa’s by the way!!

My self-timing photography skills suck.

Wtf is Eileen doing?!? HUM SUP.

Guess who??

Our very generous host who gave us sashimi, prawns, mangoes, Royce chocolates and so on!

As we all know, Elissa the Sasa Panty has her own line of lingerie.

This is what she calls Tri-action!

Oh, here’s my boss Elissa Nonya Wong.

Leeying ah, told you to practice abstinence!

My boss caught in one of those unglamorous moment. No worries boss, you are still the best.

Biscuit from Japan!!

Virgin Mary. I mean Virgin Elissa.

We stole her blanket & blew the fan at her but she wouldn’t wake up.

BOSS.

40 years from now will we be sitting down and having breakfast like this?

Anyway, Megan and I went for a swim on Monday, just like the old times! Unfortunately it started raining and we were laughing to each other from across the road HAHA. Ended up walking at Tamp1 and I ate a macaron for the first time ever!! ZEELICIOUS. It stopped raining later so we did 24 laps but ended up having black crystal milk tea and meesua when we met Felicia and Sheena for dinner. Oops

To round it up, I had the best 3 days of my life in 2 weeks. Next week will be such a bummer. 3 band pracs + 1 tune in that would eat up my entire day. How a-w-e-s-o-m-e. Winwin the great SL will make sections f-u-n right, winwin??

Luke could tell right away what sort of mood these men were in. It was a solemn gathering of somber faces. Grave and thoughtful looks were thrown in Luke’s direction. Restrained and quiet greetings were exchanged with subdued handshakes. They were still in a state of shock. Their postures betrayed the show of feelings they willfully withheld, and revealed a composed distress. None of the men were displaying the signs of anger. Some of the men had good reason to be remorseful. They’d refrained from helping to build the church, and it was too late to mend things aright. A silence fell over the group. They were all gazing at Luke. No one knew what to say, or how to start. Matthew, from Bedlam, wasn’t taking this as hard as the rest of the men. He was the man out of place at the moment, even though he was fairly well acquainted with Luke. Matthew had the nerve to take the lead and break the ice. “It’s good to know you’re okay, Luke, after all that you’ve been through. We are all deeply saddened by the news. ” Luke kept his peace and let him talk. ” Could you do us a favor? We’ve so many questions. If you could spare the time, would you tell us what happened last night? We’ve only heard bits and pieces regarding your escapades so far, and it’s just hearsay. We’d like to hear the story straight from the horses mouth, so to speak. We don’t wish to detain you, if you have to be somewhere soon. Do tell us, if you would. We’re dying to hear you speak. Are you busy?”

*

Thus it was that Luke began the second telling of his story. This was the meeting that was first mentioned in our short, but hopefully poignant introduction. After all was said and done, Matthew was the one who picked up this story and set it on it’s legs. He is the one we have to be thankful to for this tale. Much of the information contained in the remainder of our story was supplied by Matt, as we shall call him from here on out. He’d known Luke for a year or so, and they were both 28 years of age. Good friends they would become one day, a little further on down the road. Matt was the kind of man who couldn’t help but to stretch the factual truth whenever the opportunity presented itself. We may say in all likelyhood, that he did so in this instance as well. He was a socialite and a gossip, and no doubt the story grew exponentially each and every time he spoke of it. After he relayed this to my great-grandfather, we may assume this growth was continued, and took on mythical aspects as it came on down from Gramps, who handed it over to me, Uncle Tree. As we are well aware, legends have a tendency to take on a life of their own, and life in it’s turn tends to unwind the real.

*

Luke goes on to tell the men a shortened version of his adventurous night, minus his terrible secret. He was tired and hungry, and wanted to get on home. They quizzed him here and there, in order to confirm, or reject, certain aspects of the story that they’d already heard from unreliable sources. Word gets around fast in small towns, and some of the information they’d received was therefore skewed, and exaggerated, as are all rumors. They also wanted to know about the meeting from which he’d just left. They’d seen Sam and his men ride into town, and wondered what they were up to over at the deputy’s office. Luke refrained from telling them the whole truth of the matter. He said, “They are thinking about forming a posse, and going after that foreigner.” They tried to get him to expand on that quick statement, but Luke replied, “That’s all I know. Nothing was settled when I left.” Luke turned to Matt, “That stranger is our only suspect. He took off to the south, and headed for Bedlam. Was there any trouble there last night, or did you happen to notice anything strange?”

Matt replied, “Not that I’m aware of, Luke. I’m ready to head back now. I’ll get out and ask around, just in case. You know, there’s only a few of us left down there. It shouldn’t take me very long. I’ll definitely keep an eye out, though. A posse, eh? Well, someone needs to go after him. It’s a good thing your new boss has the time for such things. Maybe, I’ll see them ride through later on today. I’m sure glad you’re not joining them, whatever the case. You’ve done enough, if you ask me. You did more than anyone could’ve asked of you. Those two kids owe you their life! Thank God, you were able to save them at least. You should be grateful for that. We all should be.”

Now that Luke had recaptured the whole bloody scene for Matt and the group, he was once again able free himself from the grips of all those painful memories. Everyone thoughtfully parted, and Luke went on home to eat. He was starving for some grub, and didn’t really care what his wife put on the table, as long as it was ‘people food’. As it turned out, they had leftovers consisting of cold fried chicken and warmed up grits. Luke told her of his thoughts concerning an adoption. She said it was a high-minded gesture on his part. When Luke heard that, he was puzzled, and gave her a questioning look. She immediately changed her tune, and said it was a good idea. She agreed wholeheartedly, or so it seemed to Luke. After lunch with the two boys, they all sat down and talked it out. The boys were a bit taken back by the proposal, but that’s the way kids are, always wanting to be the center of attention. They soon warmed up to the idea, but frowned at the arrangements. Shortly after their little discussion, both Luke and his wife heard the distinct sound of horses galloping towards their place. They pulled up, and stopped the stampede right in their backyard. They were both startled at first, and then Luke said, “It’s probably Sam and his men. Don’t worry. I promise you, I will not go along with them. Let me go see what they want. Stay here.”

In the meanwhile, Matt got on his horse and headed back to Bedlam. He fell to daydreaming on the slow ride home. His memory and imagination together conspired to show him a scene in his mind. He saw that old hanging tree back home with the graveyard close behind. But that’s not all he visualized. He also saw a black stallion grazing around the rustic tombstones. No one was in the saddle. That woke Matt right up. He yelled at his horse, “Giddyup! Giddyup! C’mon, let’s go! Get a move on!”

I’m back from the dentist. She basically just sheared off some of my gums. There was quite an amount of blood. Right now I’m trying to avoid thinking about it. I trust my dentist; I’ve been her patient since I was a little kid and nothing she’s done has ever hurt much, except what’s expected of newly tightened braces.

Lots of strange things have happened to me at the dentist’s office. I’ve had several teeth pulled out. No, not permanent teeth. For some reason, my teeth never dropped off of their own accord like the other kids’ teeth. No matter what kind of torture I inflicted on myself, they refused to come off, so I always had to be brought to the dentist to have them taken out. I think the only tooth that came off outside the dental clinic was the one that… uh, well, I think I’ll save that story for some other time. It deserves an entry of its own.

Let’s see. In order, I’ve had expanders (they’re a kind of retainers, but help move teeth periodically),  braces, and soon, retainers. Wait, I still have my braces. I don’t even know when they’ll be taken off. I’ve had them for four years now. Everyone I know who’s had them don’t have them anymore. This is sad.

I must persevere.

No fa pas gaire, tot buscant un lloc concret al mig de l’Oceà Pacífic que ara mateix no vé al cas, em vaig trobar amb un arxipèlag que fins ara no havia sentit anomenar mai : les illes Pitcairn.
Trobo molt curiós el que n’he vist per internet : resulta que és un conjunt de 4 illes, de les que només una és habitada… i és habitada per una població estimada de 50 persones (any 2008)!. A més, en ser tant petit, no hi ha aeroport i en ser tant lluny de tot arreu, no hi ha possibilitat d’arribar-hi amb helicòpter. Es veu que la única manera d’anar-hi és o bé en iot particular (que pot ser una aventura bastant considerable) o bé amb vaixells de transport que facin la ruta entre Nova Zelanda i Xile (generalment) que accepten passatge i aturen el vaixell quan passen a prop de la illa, des d’on van a buscar als passatgers amb barcasses (es que tampoc no hi ha un port on atracar).
Al web de Wikitravel, ho consideren un dels llocs més complicats del món per a visitar, degut a aquestes dificultats que acabo d’esmentar i al fet que, un cop allà, tampoc no hi ha pas gaire lloc on dormir ni gran cosa per fer (econòmicament parlant).
Si teniu curiositat, doneu un cop d’ull a aquest parell d’enllaços:
Wikipedia, Pitcairn Islands
Wikitravel, Pitcairn Islands
i també és imprescindible la vista al web oficial del país (no sé si és correcte, anomenar-ho ‘país’):
Government of Pitcairn Islands
Aquestes illes pertanyen a la corona anglesa i he trobat curiós el fet que les dependències governamentals es troben situades a Nova Zelanda, més de 5000km lluny!!
Sobretot, si algú s’anima a visitar-ho (sens dubte, ha de ser preciós i una experiència absolutament exclusiva i única), que avisi, però que recordi la recomanació que fan : només haurien de visitar l’arxipèlag persones absolutament sanes, ja que una urgència mèdica pot trigar mesos en ser atesa en un centre mèdic que tingui tot l’equipament necessari.

El cap de setmana de la diada amb el cotxe del Sordi (que està una mica atrotinat però sempre diu que va molt bé…) vam anar Cadaqués, un poble que m’agrada un munt… i que està ple de gent que hi viu i de gent que hi passa i també hi ha gent que té molts quartos i hi va una estoneta i prou.. o potser s’hi queden però ara és igual això.

Vam viatjar amb una amiga que m’agrada. Ja ens coneixíem perquè algun cop havia vingut a casa i sempre s’havia portat molt bé amb mi. A més té molt bon gust musical (segons el meu criteri) i quan a algú li agraden els mateixos grups que a mi sempre té uns quants punts guanyats…

Cadaqués és el poble del senyor Dalí que té un mon que m’agrada molt i que tothom el voldria (això que he escrit és un joc de paraules que a mi m’agraden molt) i també es una mica el poble dels Ix! que són un grup de música que a mi i a ella i a la seva amiga ens agraden molt i a més són molt simpàtics (o almenys ho semblen).

I els dies del pont de l’onze de setembre van passar molt ràpid perquè quan t’ho passes bé les hores passen volant!
I després ja vam tornar cap a casa que també ens agrada.

Com a informació complementaria al meu post de Cadaqués poso una comparació entre el senyor Dalí i jo.

1. El senyor Dalí va néixer l’any 1904 el dia 11 de maig. Això vol dir que era Taure. Jo vaig néixer un dia que no sé però em vam adoptar (i jo vaig adoptar la data com la del meu naixement) el dia 20 del mes de desembre de l’any 2007. Això significa que jo sóc Sagitari.

2. El senyor Dalí abans de néixer a casa seva hi va haver una desgràcia perquè es va morir un germà seu que es deia Salvador i després, va néixer ell i també li van dir Salvador. Jo no tinc germans i tampoc conec a ningú més que es digui Fringo.

3. El senyor Dalí es diu dalí que fa riure i jo em dic Macaskill com el Danny Macaskill que va amb bici molt bé i fa uns vídeos molt xulos.

4. El senyor Dalí pintava quadros i feia escultures i moltes coses artístiques… Jo d’això casi res però a vegades faig fotos.

I ja està la comparació.

So it’s day 18 of being engaged, but only day 4 of having planned to get married 4 months earlier.  My brain is mush.  I’m somehow getting my assignments done.  I don’t know how, because I’m incapable of paying attention in class and I never do any reading.

Of all the things I have to do, here are some of the more important:

• Apply for graduation — oh yeah, I found out this week I can actually graduate in April.  Crazy.
• Get into a senior project class — I was in one, until they canceled it when the others were already full.  Can you say craptastic?  (This is kinda important as graduation depends on this class.)
• Sell my apartment contract — I really think there should be a clause in all BYU housing contracts that if you prove you get married, you’re released from you contract and your deposit must be returned.
• Find a place to live post-marriage — kind of really important.  My car is nice, but it’s no love nest.
• All the while balancing visits between families and helping Sav with plans in any way I can (aka when she tells me).

I’m just grateful that Sav is like a super awesome planner and just wants to get things done.  We already have so much done: registered, gathering addresses, already looking at apartments, honeymoon booked.  We’ve got 65 days to ’til, but we’ll (and be that I mean she’ll) get everything taken care of.  I love that woman.

Yesterday we looked at an apartment.  We called at 7 something in the evening.  The owners were way nice, but they’d showed it to 5 other peeps/couples already that day.  They’d posted the listing on craigslist only that day.  It was small but nice, and we’re really hoping we get it.

Oh, yesterday was also a witness to the greatness that is Cafe Rio.  Sav had a busy, stressful day.  It was a perfect day for Cafe Rio.  It can never go wrong.  It warms the soul, lifts the spirits, and is pretty much the most delicious food I’ve ever eaten.

To my faithful readers out there (Sav and … …), I appologize for the scattered post.  As I said in the beginning, my brain is a soft, wet, pulpy mass.  I should recover eventually.

Currently listening to: “Clocks” by Coldplay

How funny is it that two weeks into our engagement, Sav and I find ourselves thinking “2 weeks down, another 27 will kill us”? Waiting six months more to marry the love of my life just wasn’t going to do, so knowing that 2 was less than 6, we started thinking we should move up our wedding date. Well, I started thinking that. Talk ensued. Prayer took place. And talking to parents was necessary.

After much talk, the best of which took place between Sav and her mother, we decided to go ahead with a new date. I believe her mom told her something to the extent that she had been expecting it the whole time and was just waiting. That was a relief.

So now we will be getting married on the 2nd of January instead of the 1st of May. Much closer.

Lesson learned: long engagements sound great and look good on paper but are no fun in practice.

We should know better. Arranging a date on a ’school’ night is probably not the best of ideas. Even with the sincerest of intentions to cart ourself off homeward at a sensible hour. 

The date in question was a change of scenery for us. Our potential lives in a neighbouring town. A student no-less. We admit that this is perhaps a little on the young-side, but we decided to give it a go. So with a day-saver return ticket in our back-pocket we merrily set on our way. Upon arrival, we remembered why we do not visit our neighbouring town much: It’s shit. Casting aside our misgivings about our alien surroundings, we set of in search of a suitable pub with mister man. Initial indications seemed good. Nice-looking, not camp, sexy accent. We liked.

Beer and banter flowed freely. We moved on. To an establishment where we discovered beer on sale for prices that would have been cheap for the 1980s. In retrospect, this was the beginning of our undoing. We got talking to two local girls disenchanted with the heterosexual male race. We sympathised – with a hint of mischief. We advised her to send her cheating boyfriend a text telling him exactly what she thought of him. We reviewed her attempt and declared it feeble. Our date and I dictated a torrent of profanity which she happily tapped into her phone. Satisfied with our efforts we said ’send’. She did. We suspect there may be repercussions and it’s all our fault.

By now, our last Metro home had long-since trundled out of the station. We ended up in a club. Our date went to the bar. We went along too. We spotted the barman opening a bottle of expensive champagne. Our jaw agape and our liver already quivering, we realised it was heading in our direction. We declared our date ‘mental’. He put it on his credit card. We are still somewhat baffled by this surreal event. We will be checking our statements incase we were somehow ‘Derren-Browned.’

With the Dom Perignon polished off, both of us were a tad merry to say the least. We ended up heading in the direction of student halls. Hammered. And armed with a kebab. By now, we had suspected that a night of passion was not on the cards in our mutual states of drunken-ness. However what we were not expecting was a food fight. It began with light-hearted bickering and descended into a doner-meat hurling fest. We awoke a few hours later, our arms around mister man amidst a salad-strewn room. We realised at this point it was Tuesday and we had to go to work. 15 miles away. Observing a slice of tomato stuck to the wall, reality hit.

We gently woke our diminuitive scotsman. “We have to go to work” we said. “No no no no no no no, no you’re not.” came a gruff reply. Despite attempts to get us to pull a sicky and spend the day in student-land, we emphatically declared our need to get to our desk, no matter how unappealing the thought was. We retrieved our shirt from the bedroom floor. It was covered in chilli sauce. “Fuck” we muttered. Nervously glancing at our watch we pulled ourself together. We nicked his hoody and made a hurried exit.

We arrived at work a mere five minutes late, but wearing a top that was clearly not ours and looking somewhat dishevilled. Our mischevious workmate, armed with the foreknowledge of our date declared loudly as we made an attempt to skulk in inconspicuously “Your not wearing anything under that hoody are you? And it’s not yours, is it?” grinning delightedly at our misfortune.

We awaited the inevitable. Sure enough, as we settled at our desk with a triple-strength coffee, the telling-off email arrived: “Getting drunk and waking up in a stranger’s bed is no excuse for being late.”

We have decided we are our own worst enemy.

I caught 500 days of Summer with Sheena and Megan yesterday. Uh-uh, far too abstruse for me. I’m a chick flick girl and brainless entertainment makes me happy. I’ve been so hooked on chick flick books about teenage girls, their college lives and summer flings. Am I being shallow? We had frozen yogurt before that, and I swear that it’s the new chocolate. Everyone’s jumping on the frozen yogurt bandwagon and oh, the beauty of monopolistic competition! We consumers will soon enjoy lower prices and a higher surplus. We had dou jiang you tiao at some Rochor shop after the show, my first time! You dip the fried dough into soy bean milk, and the milk OOZES out when you bite it. Gawwwwd, it was fantastic. Maybe 2d could go there for supper someday instead of Simpang.

School was a total flop today I found out that GP lessons were cancelled the moment I reach school. Honestly, what the hell! I could have slept in a little while more. Ms Tan told Titus that I was late for school again, oops. There hasn’t been any big issue with punctuality and attendance here at VJ, so I’m safe for the moment. I had a job interview (more life briefing) after that, and I think I’m giving it up if they want me to grill beef patties, deep fry fries and clean tables at Ion. I’d rather work at Renaldo at Eastwood, which is wayyyyyyyyyy nearer to home and doesn’t require me to clean tables to deep fry anything. Instead, I get to make strudel and pastries, now how cool is that?!

Anyway, school ends at 12.20 tomorrow and I have no CCA after that. Awesomeeeeeeee!

Apparently many a person has been asking Sav how we met, started dating, and subsequently became the cutest engaged couple ever.  Well, it’s a tale to tell.  And I’ll tell it to you.

For me, it started a little over a year ago.  I’m not going into details, but let’s just say that last year I went though a bit of depression.  I was pretty closed off, to everyone, including coworkers.  And it just so happened that during last winter semester (I couldn’t tell you the exact date), my boss hired Olivia.  I was friendly with her, but not really friends with her until about May, when I started coming out of “my funk”.  Well, once I stopped being all depressed and started being fun again, Olivia and I became friends.  Long story, but very important.

At the same time, I had a crush on Apple (nickname, not a real name).  Well, Apple never had a thing for me, but I crushed on her for months, until finally I accepted the fact that it just wasn’t gonna happen.  That day was a good one, because I made a good friend, and it opened up my mind to other possibilities.

Now we’re in July.  Olivia, I, and another co-worker decided to go to Up!.  I picked her up at her apartment, and I quickly met her roommate, Savitrii.  I’m going to be honest, I don’t remember much of this.  (I was very excited about Up!).  And as I believe, it was after I saw Up! (and also briefly met Sav) that I got over my crush on Apple.  Well, it was toward the end of July that I started hanging out a little with Olivia at her apartment.  Her roommates were all cool girls.  Well, as I start hanging out with them, I talk to Apple, and she says, “Olivia wanted to set you up with one of her roommates.”  So my curiosity was peeked.  I start thinking about Olivia’s roommates.  There was Savitrii, Midori, and Hartley.  Well, Hartley is a hottie, but too tall for me, so I ruled her out.  Midori: also a hottie, but I couldn’t see myself dating her (although she’s one of my best friends now).  That left Sav, who I got along with great, who made me laugh, and who was also a smoking hottie.  But where Olivia had never actually attempted to set me up with anyone, I didn’t act on it, I just let it roll around in my brain for a while.

August happened next.  I started hanging out more and more at Sav’s apartment.  I think it started out at like 2-3 times a week, I would just drop by.  I really liked them all–they were the coolest girls–but Sav was easily my favorite.  I wasn’t afraid to be myself around her.  She had my same sense of humor, and we just plain got along.  I started coming around more and more.  It was around the 7th or 8th of August that I started having a real thing for Sav.  Being me, of course, I didn’t know if she had a thing for me.  But we quickly became great friends.  We started posting on each other’s Facebook walls, and then chatting on Gmail while we were both at work.  I started reading her blog.  The more I learned about her, the more I liked her.  But I still didn’t know if she liked me, and I didn’t want to ruin a good friendship by trying to make it something more.  So I just kept coming around.

Around this time, about the 3rd week of August, I started being a little stand-off-ish toward Sav.  I guess I didn’t want her to know I liked her before I knew if she liked me.  This is just more proof that people are so funny!  Well, things took a better turn when Olivia moved out of the apartment, but I still kept visiting.

The weekend of the 30th of August, I went home, but got a call from Midori inviting me to a Sunday dinner.  I drove back early just for that.  That’s what I knew I really did like her.  I still didn’t know if she liked me, but I hoped.  Well, that week progressed, and I’m pretty sure I came over every day.  And it wasn’t just because I was bored.  But still no clue if she like me more than a friend, and I wasn’t going to really make a move until I knew.  (Though Olivia says that it was so obvious–which is probably true–I was never good at playing the dating game.)

The day before the BYU vs. Oklahoma game (Sept. 4), I spontaneously asked Sav to Chili’s.  It’s funny, because I wasn’t officially trying to date her yet… I guess I just wanted to eat out at Chili’s and wanted her to come… just her.  So yeah, I took her on our first date.

Then there was the BYU vs. Oklahoma game.  I remember Sav invited me after going to Chili’s to come and watch at a friend’s house.  I got there late though, and when I walked in, saw Sav on a couch next to another guy.  I had no reason to be jealous, but I got jealous anyway.  Then she pretty much ignored me.  So I was in a pretty foul mood during most of the game.  Only when we were about to win did my spirits cheer at all.  After the game, I announced that Midori and I were going for ice cream and a Redbox, and asked if anyone wanted to come.  Sav quickly said she was coming and was right there.  I was more than a little confused, but so happy that she was paying me attention again that I didn’t even care.  More proof that people are just funny.  But a very fun night.

The next week, everything just kinda came together.  There was a night that we watched a movie together on the LoveSac, a night we stayed up night together, and a night we kissed.  I’m pretty sure that those, were Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday, respectively.  It wasn’t until after cuddling on the LoveSac and holding hands, plus an all-night stay-up, that I was sure she liked me too.  The plan was to date her and not kiss her for a few weeks… but after a night of something (I don’t remember what else we did that night), I walked her to her door, and she gave me a look that said, “You should kiss me right now.”  So I did.  And it was a kiss that blew away all other kisses.  That was very good night.

The next day, I came over (again, I know), and we had our first DTR.  Well, we decided we were dating, that I was her boyfriend, she my girlfriend, and that my lips were hers.  It was a good DTR.  And things just kinda progressed from there.  We saw each other every day.  Time together just wasn’t long enough.  And it wasn’t long before I knew I loved her.  It wasn’t very long before I told her either–luckily she didn’t freak out and run away.  Within the first 2-3 weeks, I would walk away from her apartment after saying goodnight thinking, “I just love that girl” and by the time I would be walking up to my apartment I was thinking, “I’m going to marry that girl if it’s the last thing I do.”  (Though hopefully it’s not.)  And the whole time I kept thinking, “Is this too fast?  It should feel like it, but instead it just feels right.  Wow.”

And after dating for 3-4 weeks (4 weeks from our first date, 3 from our first kiss), I took her up to Idaho to meet my family.  We were taking family pictures, but I just wanted her to meet my fam.  She was a good sport, especially when my dad calls her over and has her in some of the pictures.  I was embarrassed, but Sav was so good.  Well, during all of this, I start saying, “Well, at least this will make a good story to tell our…” and I stop just before I finish.  Of course, Sav, being the smart cookie that she is, doesn’t miss this.  She makes me finish.  “…tell our kids.”  So yeah–the cat was out of the bag.  CK is thinking kids.  Well, the rest of the evening was fun.  And not until about midnight to we have any time to just be alone and talk (time so important).  I don’t remember what brought it out, but I remember Sav was the first to say it: marriage.  Come to find out, we’d both been thinking about it for about a week, but thinking it was so fast and not wanting to scare the other, but both thinking it just felt so right.  So that night we decided we were going to get married.  WOW!  I remember grinning the whole way up to my room after saying goodnight.  I was even happier the next morning when she hadn’t taken the bus back to Provo.  (I told her where it stopped and what company it was, just in case she needed to escape.)  The drive home was pretty sweet, just talking about the future.  And the best part was that something I always thought would be such a nerve-racking experience was easy.  When you know it’s right, the only thing you can do is proceed I guess.  There has never been a doubt in my mind.

So now we were a dating couple agreed that we wanted to get married.  So we made a mental checklist: I needed to meet her family, we needed to go shopping for rings, and I would have to propose.  Well, we didn’t do much on the list until the next Saturday, all the while keeping our little secret except for a very few people.  Saturday, we go ring shopping, and wouldn’t you know that the first place we go, we find the most beautiful ring?  The crazy part?  The sales rep comes back after talking to the jeweler and says, “He can have it ready for you today if you’d like.”  Well, OK.  So that’s one check off the list.  We decided then and there that we couldn’t wait–I’ve got to talk to her father.  We call up her mom and tell them that we want to come down.  After some talk, it’s decided that we can come down that night. So we drive down late and get there late.  And I loved her family!  I already knew that I would, but meeting them, I loved them even more than I expected.  They’re amazing.  I couldn’t ask for better in-laws.  I couldn’t find better in-laws.

Well, it’s Sunday, and we’re with Sav’s family, only her dad is sick.  He goes to take a quick nap, but sleeps through most of the afternoon.  Sav and I started getting antsy.  We had decided before that if it didn’t feel right, we would just wait to talk to him.  Well, we felt like we still wanted to talk to him, so we woke him up; we drove to the mountains outside of town; and we started walking.  Wonder Woman (Sav’s mom), senses the moment, and says, “We’re walking this way,” leaving me and Superman (Sav’s dad) to speak in private.  I’d never done this kind of thing before–I’ll admit that I was more than nervous.  But I mustered all the courage I could and just started talking.  Told him I loved his daughter and that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her–that we wanted to get married.  Superman knew this was why we drove down.  He asked me all about myself.  I really wish I could have written it all down, because I’m going to have to use the same questions someday, and they were all the right questions: our plans, my major/career goals, my family life, etc.  Well, after a great talk, he asked me, “Have you already proposed?”  I told him, “No.”  He was a little surprised, I think, but simply said, “Well, when you do, make it memorable.”

Shortly after, we returned to the car.  Sav and Wonder Woman walked toward us.  Superman says, “He says that he loves her.  He says wants to marry her.”  Wonder Woman responds, “She says the same.”

So that’s two items off our checklist.  I’ve only one thing to do: propose.  I’m eager to be engaged.  She’s eager to be engaged.  It felt like we’d been holding in the most amazing secret for a week, and we just wanted to be able to tell the word that we were in love and that we were going to get married.  So the next day, October 12, 2009, Columbus Day by coincidence, I left work early to get the ring appraisal, to buy a camera, and get ready.  My parents had just left to Mexico to vacation on Saturday, and I didn’t have a number for the resort.  They didn’t know I was going to propose.  Luckily, my uncle just happened to check his Blackberry while down there, and I had sent him an email asking him to have my dad call me.  So I was able to tell my parents the great news just an hour before I picked up Sav.

I picked her up at five.  I took her to P. F. Chang’s.  This was for two reasons: first, I always wanted to go there, and second, because I had told her roommates once that I really wanted to take a girl to P. F. Chang’s but it would have to be a girl that I was engaged to or very serious with.  Sav’s roommate Smash had even asked me the week before (after we knew we were gonna get married) if I was going to take Sav to P. F. Chang’s.  She was really asking if I was going to marry her.

So I took her to a delicious dinner, and then I drove us up Provo Canyon.  I am not that familiar with the canyon, so we just went to the first park there and started walking up a dirt road, up the hills.  After walking for a while, we found a pretty spot and talked for a bit, I pulled out the ring, got down on one knee, and asked Sav to marry me.  And she said yes!  And it was perfect.

We took some pictures (with the new camera), and walked back to the car while also floating on Cloud 9.  On the drive back, Sav starts calling her family and telling them the good news.  Once we got parked near her apartment, I called my grandparents, she called more family, and we texted as many people as we could think of.  Then we headed to her apartment so that we could break the news to her roommates.

I think that part of the story is best told by Sav herself.

And now we’re engaged to be married, and couldn’t be happier.  I hate the saying, but it’s true: “When you know, you know.”

I know.

Bats, Bugs and Drunks

Miss Rita, the middle-aged woman at the desk next to mine, is asking personal questions. That’s something she does every night. I’m 22 years old and this is my first serious job since being discharged from the U. S. Army, two years ago. The inquiring Miss Rita and I are clerks in the Social Security Administration — I’m a new hire and she’s my trainer. We are working the 4:00 P. M. to 12:30 A. M. shift on the seventh floor of the Falconer Building at 414 Water Street in downtown Baltimore, two blocks from the harbor. The year is 1959, deep summer, and I’ve made a new friend.

The windows are open, three huge floor fans blowing at full power. If the temperature in the Falconer Building rises above 90 degrees, we’ll be sent home. This happens often during the day shift, less so after the sun goes down. Miss Rita and I sit in the cross-ventilation and flip SS-5 cards and scribble name and date-of-birth changes into huge metal-covered ledgers, delighted with each other’s company. (This photo of an actual Form SS-5 shows a Miss Apgar requesting that her name be changed to Mrs. Lake. Click images for larger views.)

The evening passes to the rhythm of turning pages: flip, flip, scribble, flip, flip, scribble, scribble, flip. Against the background of dirty brick walls scores of other clerks’ bend to the identical task. The oily aroma of Baltimore harbor wafts in the windows and, when the wind shifts, more pungent odors come from the nearby wholesale fish market. The whirring fans cool our necks and blow the occasional card from desk to floor — or out a window. The strange sound of bat wings flutter in one window and out another. There is a gentle rustling noise as rat’s forage for sandwich crumbs in waste baskets, and the buzzing of blood-sucking insects foraging for us.

At the moment, Miss Rita’s job is to introduce me to the mysteries of entry-level clerking in the Numerical Register Section of SSA — and, it seems, to trade work information for personal tidbits. With anyone else her intimate prying might be offensive, but, somehow — I guess because of her odd sense of humor — it’s just harmless fun. Miss Rita’s constant stream of chatter, spiced with sexy double meanings, makes the long evenings of repetitive work bearable. In fact, they are downright entertaining. Anyway, there is not much of a private life to expose — I ‘m still in the process of trying to develop one. Somehow I manage to keep Miss Rita interested by making up outrageous but plausible tales about my exploits. She seems to especially enjoy the lies (these days we might call them “creative non-fictions”) that I tell about the erotic adventures of my mother, a born-again Christian, who would have been shocked if she knew that her son used her straight-arrow life for creative inspiration. Perhaps Miss Rita identifies with my fictions because she and my mother are about the same age.

On my first night in the Falconer Building — one of several rental properties which comprise the original SSA headquarters — Miss Rita gives me the grand tour. She points out the freight elevator which, she says, I can use at peak load times during shift changes, when the passenger elevator is often overwhelmed. She shows me the stairs and mentions in passing that they are handy because the freight elevator only goes to the 5th floor. She doesn’t comment on the empty booze bottles in the stairwell, nor does she explain the sleeping drunk. Our “cafeteria” is located by the elevator door on the 4th floor, Miss Rita says. That is, at 9 o’clock each evening an old man gets off the elevator and stands there selling cold sandwiches out of a large cardboard box. Finally, Miss Rita gives me a booklet explaining what is expected in terms of production and conduct. The publication also has a small map showing the location of the men’s room and fire exits. I can use the restroom anytime, Miss Rita says, provided it isn’t too often. “Two often” and it will reflect in my “rating,” whatever that is.

The Falconer Building is clean, at least compared to the steel mill in which I had worked prior to this job, and there is even a bit of external entertainment. As we young male clerks arrive early for the evening shift, we often gather to watch strippers sunbathing on the low roof of the nearby Gayety Show Bar, the keystone of Baltimore’s infamous “Block” of sleazy nightclubs clustered nearby. When the women are up there relaxing between shows we all go a little crazy. The younger clerks in the Numerical Register Section — male and female — are friendly, and I am quickly drawn into a sort of loose-knit social club. After our shift finishes at 12:30 A. M., few of us want to go home to bed — we’re still too primed with youthful energy — so most nights a meeting is called for a party or card game at someone’s home or apartment. Or we go out on a sort of group date, which usually involves bar-hopping, the only form of entertainment available at that hour. Some nights we simply cruise the city and talk until dawn at an all night diner. Often, I drop into bed at first light or later, sleep until two in the afternoon, then get up to start the work/play cycle again. Some of my new friends have been living this way for several years, but the fun will last only a few months for me. I have “EOD’d” (Entered On Duty) at the end of an era. The whole of SSA’s scattered downtown headquarters is scheduled to consolidate in a modern complex in the western suburbs of Baltimore in January of 1960, only a few months hence.

Well before we leave the city, though, it comes to pass that my social life is greatly enriched as a direct result of information provided by Miss Rita. She tells me that a particular young lady, another Numerical Register clerk, is interested in me beyond mere friendship, and before long I am involved in my first “adult” relationship. I reward Miss Rita by continuing my stories, now more fact than fiction, and much more titillating than ever. I even expand the scope of the tales to include many of my young and ever-horny (at least in my telling) coworkers. And I notice that Miss Rita’s interest in our escapades become more intense the closer I stick to real life, which I take as a literary lesson. So as I become a better clerk, I also sharpen my narratives. Miss Rita especially likes to hear my juiced-up versions of our nocturnal forays to various “hillbilly” bars and other hotspots around town, and the house parties that follow into the wee hours, many of them ending in sleep overs. These stories require scant embellishment.

All of this happened a half century ago, late summer until the end of 1959. I spent 29 years with the Social Security Administration, taking an early retirement in 1988. Not long after the SSA headquarters moved to the suburbs, I realized that I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life flipping pages and scribbling in ledgers, so I took advantage of the Korean G. I. Bill and enrolled in evening art classes. That led to a temporary job in SSA’s drafting department, which in turn got me through what I called “the back door” of their large art department —where my first assignment was to help produce the original Medicare Handbook. Living and working in the suburbs was O. K., but I never again had an experience quite so rich in character or characters, or that made such an intense impression on me, as those early nights in downtown Baltimore, flipping SS-5 cards and trading punch lines with Miss Rita.

Copyright © 2009 Jim Sizemore.

A much longer version of this personal essay was published in the October, 1978 issue of OASIS, a magazine distributed monthly to Social Security Administration employees nationwide.