can i just tell you

that i only had one diet coke today?

i’m totally serious. now, there are quite a few days when i only have one diet coke, but usually that’s because the one diet coke i had was, oh, i don’t know, a super big gulp (hi, mukesh!).

but today it was just one can. i cracked that baby open about 11am and at 3:30, i was still working on it. by that time of course, it was straight up room temperature. but i didn’t mind, not one iota.

don’t you love it when people use the word “iota?” i think you should use it in a sentence today. i already did.

what does this mean (only having one diet coke, not the word “iota”)? am i losing my taste for the bubbly? has this happened to you before?

byob

or should i say byodc? meaning of course, bring your own diet coke.

i've mentioned that one of the many reasons i love my job is the coke fridge in the break room that is typically stocked with dc.

we ran out today.

it was hard on us all. i even drank a coke zero (i know, i know). usually, nothing can take diet coke's place. when you want one, you want one. you know? reminds me of a time i was out to eat with a friend who feels similarly at a place that only has pepsi products (how could we not have known?). when my friend asked for a diet coke, we were told that the closest thing they had was diet pepsi. looking up solemnly, he replied,

"just this once."

i was shocked at his defection but it did give me the strength to venture out and order one as well.

i just read this post. i think i have what some members of the medical community may call a "problem."

if so, someone call dr. drew. i might be having some crazy withdrawal side effects tomorrow.

warning:

***this post may or may not contain strong opinions. the city of provo may tar and feather me for voicing these feelings. read at your own risk. if i were really skinny enterprises not responsible for any crying/hurt feelings that may result from reading this post.***

today i made the mistake of leaving the house. i'll be more succinct: i made the mistake of driving within a 2 mile radius of edwards stadium at byu. which by the way is basically impossible not to do if you're trying to get anywhere that matters in utah valley.

if you live in provo/orem, you know exactly what i'm talking about. during the fall on saturdays, you must remain a prisoner in your own home if you wish to escape the byu football fans and the subsequent concentration of redonkulously terrible utah drivers.

they are rabid. they will kill you.

i could not care less about byu football if my heart were surgically removed.

mind you, i respect byu. being mormon my whole life and now living in utah for the past 2 1/2 years, i run into quite a few byu students and graduates. i have to say, i tolerate the majority of them quite well, and am actually rather fond of quite a few of them (most of my current coworkers as well as lots of my friends and even a few relatives). all my byu friends: i like you. i'll keep you.

but byu sports, you and i will never be friends. and you avid byu fans - probably don't bring up football. if you keep this rule, we should be fine.

that's what you get...

...when you try to make a buck.

i added ads to my blog in hopes of an extra penny or two, and they were all for eating disorder treatment centers.

talk about judging a book by its cover. just because the title of my blog is "if i were really skinny..." suddenly all my readers have eating disorders? dig deeper, google. look beyond the facade.

it's like i told someone the other day:

i just wish free stuff i got on the internet would work properly.

am i being punk'd?

somewhat accurate transcript of a customer support call i put in today:

customer service: how may i help you?
me: yeah, i was just calling to confirm that participants to my audio conference will be able to use the toll number you've provided, even if they call from europe. on the confirmation it just lists the us and canada.
customer service: yes; that number works for anywhere in the world, as long as you use the correct country code.
me: ok great, thanks for your help.
customer service: can you give me your meeting url please?
me: ummm sure...where would i find that?
customer service: the url. a url is like a website address. (no, really? go on. your knowledge excites me!)
me: right. i see several urls here on my confirmation.
customer service: well what website did you go to to schedule your conference?
me: ummm....your company website? is this a trick question?
customer service: and what url did you go to before that?
me: i don't know...jcrew.com? facebook? spatula-city.com? are you high?
cusotmer service: and just to confirm your meeting, can i please have the last four digits of the sandwich you ate for lunch?
me: wait...am i high? ashton?

going green.

last night i got two calls from a landline in salt lake that i didn’t recognize. no message. i was intrigued so i called back.

it was a very nice, elderly-sounding man from the salt lake trib/des news wondering if i’d like to take the paper again.

sidenote: of all the companies of which i’ve been a customer, the sl trib is second only to nissan in phone spam. just an fyi.

anyhooha, he had all kinds of configurations and options for me, mostly costing about six dollahs a month.

my heart went out to the sweet man, earnestly peddling his newspapers, because it reminded me of newsies, which automatically made me think of my boyfriend christian bale singing longingly of santa fe.

but seriously, all the paper amounts to for someone like me is a lot of wasted paper, where i’m so plugged into the www all the time to get my news. unless i decide to start doing a whole lotta paper mache…and a LOT of paper mache that would be…etsy shop of my own, here we come…

the dear man told me to keep his phone number, just in case i was ever interested.
surely will, friend.
surely will.