My One-hundred-and-eighth Post

List of books I smuggled out of Martin’s apartment during a recent visit:

• The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho)
• Memoirs of a Geisha (Arthur Golden)
• Brave New World (Aldous Huxley)
• Flowers for Algernon (Daniel Keyes)
• The Secret Life of Bees (Sue Monk Kidd)
• The Eight (Katherine Neville)
• The Scarlet Pimpernel (Baroness Orczv)
• 1984 (George Orwell)
• The Chosen (Chaim Potok)
• Ishmael (Daniel Quinn)
• Anthem (Ayn Rand)
• Party of One (Anneli Rufus)
• Raise High The Roof Beam, Carpenters (J. D. Salinger)
• The Joy Luck Club (Amy Tan)

I had to borrow an extra dufflebag just to get them all home. But I'm really happy, now.

My One-hundred-and-seventh Post

Okay, I’ve spent forever creating the most awesome post about my trip this last weekend, but it’s mostly all pictures and quotes, which I doubt any of you would find nearly as funny. Anyway, I guess it’ll all just have to stay on my family’s blog. I will, however grant you a token picture of a bag of M&Ms. Originally, the picture was of Faybe and I making funny faces. We later noticed that Faybe’s massive bag of M&Ms was in the background. I cropped it, but I still think it’s funny that she buckled them in.



Also, I’ve been wearing a sparkly ring on my left ring finger since about last Thursday. My little sister gave it to me. I’m a bit disappointed that nobody really noticed it, though. Actually, Sil saw it during our family dinner last Sunday. But she mostly just raised an eyebrow and asked me if I had anything to share.

My One-hundred-and-sixth Post

It’s 4am right now, and I just got back from a very long road trip. Faybe and I were in the back seat, ignoring all pretenses of personal space as we sprawled all over each other in an attempt to be comfortable. Martin sat in the middle seat throwing up for the last five hours of the trip. (That’s right, Martin, I wrote about that on my blog.) Sweetheart was also in the middle seat, but she pretty much slept most of the time (thankfully). Occasionally, she would wake up and start to fuss a little bit, but I just had to reach over into her car seat and adjust her blanket, and she would calm right down.

Sometimes when you find yourself in the dark, and you think you’re all alone, it’s nice to have somebody reach out a hand and reassure you that it’s all going to be all right; you’re not alone.


More later, but now it's time to sleep.

My One-hundred-and-fifth Post

Once upon a time, during my freshman year, I found myself alone in my room. So I locked the door, turned on some really loud music, and started dancing.

We didn’t really lock our bedroom doors ever, so when one of my roommates gave a quick knock and started to open the door, she was quite surprised to find it locked. I quickly composed myself, turned the music down, and unlocked the door.

She found my behavior a little suspicious, I guess, so she asked me what I had been doing.

Me: “Erm… I was… dancing.”
BonBon: “Really? You were dancing? Why did you have the door locked?”
Me: “Um… because?”

So she turned the music back up, opened the door really wide, and we proceeded to “rock out.”

I’m really gonna miss that girl when she leaves on her mission next month.

My One-hundred-and-fourth Post

Confession time.

Once upon a time, I would do the crossword puzzles in the Daily Universe in the morning. Then I would be annoyed that I couldn’t figure out the answers, so I’d look them up online.

Later, I would pick up a fresh newspaper on my way to work and do the crossword puzzle again. But this time I would already know the answers, see? And my coworkers and everybody would think I was really smart.

I’m thinking of bringing back this tradition. Is that dishonest?

My One-hundred-and-third Post

One Monday evening several years ago, my FHE group was going to play soccer. I was really excited about this, and I was jumping all over the place, literally. Just as we were dividing into teams, I came down on my ankle the wrong way. For those of you who don’t know, breaking my ankle is probably one of my biggest fears. I became instantly terrified by the shooting pains coming from the general direction of my ankle. I knew I hadn’t broken it, because that would have probably killed me right then and there. But I thought I might have sprained it. I spent the entire activity courageously walking/limping around the field in an effort to loosen it up and convince myself that it wasn’t serious. The activity ended, and my roommates helped me get home. We then proceeded to watch a movie while alternately applying hot and cold packs to my ankle, thinking that it would magically fix whatever was wrong. Eventually, I decided to go to bed, hoping that everything would be fine in the morning. Unfortunately, as soon as I found myself alone in a darkened room with nothing to think about but the throbbing pain in my ankle, it suddenly seemed to get much worse. After about half an hour, my roommate came in to find me crying and generally being inconsolable.

She determined that I should get a priesthood blessing, and so she called up a couple of boys from the ward, who scurried over to the apartment. I didn’t think I needed the blessing. My ankle wasn’t really sprained or in any way permanently damaged, but that didn’t keep me from being afraid. I knew that most of my worries were just irrational fears that wouldn’t have any effect on the recovery of my ankle. I didn’t want people to think I was just being silly and making something out of nothing. But my roommate had already made the call, and I figured it couldn’t really hurt.

They came and gave me the blessing. I went to sleep. In the morning I was fine and I was able to get to all of my classes without any trouble at all. I took this as a sign that I didn’t really need the blessing anyway, and that my ankle would have been okay regardless.

Looking back, I realize that the situation was a little bit different than I had interpreted it at that time. The blessing wasn’t really for my ankle, as I had thought, but for my fear for my ankle. It was my fear that was causing me the most difficultly, not the pain in my ankle. The blessing served as a comfort to me to reassure me that things would go according to God’s plan, and that I shouldn’t let my terror overshadow my faith in the Lord.

You’d think from this example, I would have learned to ask for blessings when I need that reassurance, but I haven’t. I don’t want people to think that there is something wrong with me, when it’s really just my fear of something being wrong with me. Asking for blessings tells people that there is something not quite right in my life, and I don’t ever feel like explaining what that is.

My One-hundred-and-second Post

Some tips for you:

• Don’t feel too bad when you get stood up. Unless it’s by your parents.
  
• Stop and smell the roses. Especially if they are on your grandmother’s old-fashioned rose bush.
  
• Don’t let a mysterious object floating in your pool keep you from swimming. Except when it’s really mysterious looking; then let someone else go first.
  
• If you find religious-themed chapstick, give it to krebscout. Bonus points if you get it for free.
  
• Don’t feel guilty for secretly enjoying Donny Osmond’s Love Songs of the '70s. You’re not alone.

My One-hundred-and-first Post

As previously mentioned, I went shopping on Saturday. But it wasn’t all just frivolous spending of money; I also learned a very valuable lesson: read the labels! Just because something looks like what you usually buy does not mean that’s what it actually is. I thought I bought some lotion, which I was very excited about. Turns out, I actually bought body wash. I spent good money on it, so I suppose I’ll get around to using it eventually. I really wish I had the lotion instead, though. I also accidentally bought some conditioner instead of styling cream. The bottles look exactly the same down to every last detail except that at the very top in small writing, one says “Conditioner” and the other says “24/7 Cream.” I guess I’ll use the conditioner—who knows? Maybe I will like it.

But still. Read the labels.

Also, my sister Martin chastised me for not doing anything special for my One-hundredth Post. In an attempt to make amends for this egregious mistake, I suppose I will have to dedicate my One-hundred-and-first Post to the Dalmatians. All 101 of them.

My One-hundredth Post

Drazi and I had an adventure outside of work today. It involved lots of busses, Wal-Mart, the mall, and the dollar theater. It was quite the afternoon.

As much as I like Drazi, I don't like her at all when she's with her roommates or friends. When we're alone she's pretty awesome, but with others she becomes very judgmental. I'm not saying I'm not judgmental, but I would like to think that I'm a bit subtle about it, for the most part.

But it really has been an awesome day.

Also, I like to click the “refresh” button in Google Reader, because, for just an instant, it changes to say “refreshing.” And that greatly amuses me.

My Ninety-ninth Post

Dear Genuine Draft,

I’m sorry I almost killed you tonight for no apparent reason. I realize now that it was very stupid to throw a hefty chunk of metal in the general direction of your head.

Please forgive me? I’ll give you frozen broccoli… and some painkillers… and my first-born child.

&c.,

My Ninety-eighth Post

So... my awesome vacation. Perhaps this will be boring for you to read, but I'm excited about it and feel like writing. It will be six days and five nights of whirlwind activity... except for the times when we plan on being non-active. If you don't understand who the characters are, you should reference the Cast of Characters.

It will start early on Thursday, May 24th. This is my Dad's birthday, and also the day that Faybe will graduate from high school. I will start my grand adventure here in my apartment here in Provo. I will (hopefully find a kind soul who will) drive to the airport (for gas and compensation?) and board a plane headed towards the city where Martin lives. My plane will be inevitably delayed by at least six hours, and I will arrive at my destination to face a very angry sister who will then ignore me during the long drive from the airport to my parent's house in my Hometown, USA. We will then attend Faybe's graduation ceremony, and present her will all sorts of illegal paraphernalia (you know... tortillas, beach balls, hip flasks) that she can sneak in under her gown to entertain her while she sits through 12,000 rounds of Pomp and Circumstance.

On Friday, May 25th, the next phase of the vacation begins. My three sisters (Faybe, Martin, and Mean Mommy) will all pile into Mean Mommy's very lovely minivan (along with Bil and Sweetheart) and we will ROADTRIP! to a very lovely nearby state. We will arrive at our destination in the late afternoon and check into a reasonable priced (aka cheap) hotel. Faybe, Martin, and myself will baby-sit our cute niece Sweetheart while Mean Mommy and Bil go to see an evening performance of Wicked (you know... the musical?). Upon their return, we will then probably get very rambunctious and act like twelve-year-old girls very late into the night. Oh, I can hardly wait.

On Saturday, May 26th, we will enjoy a free continental breakfast (read: free muffins and juice in the lobby) at our leisure before Faybe, Martin, and I brave some form of public transportation to arrive at the theater to take in a matinee performance of Wicked (you know... the musical?). We will then check out of the hotel and drive back home where we will most likely all crash at my parent's house in a drunken... er... sleep-deprived stupor.

[Random aside: If you're wondering why we didn't just all go to the same show, you should stop being silly and realize that a six-month-old baby isn't exactly welcome at a musical performance, no matter how cute she may be. And leaving her at home with her two older siblings would also have been unwise, as she would probably never speak to her mother again... once she learned to speak, that is.]

On Sunday, May 27th, we will probably be awakened quite early by Princess and Little Boy, who will secretly be disappointed that their parents have returned during the night to whisk them away from Nana's indulgent care. We will probably go to church at some point, and then we will have the official celebration of my Dad's birthday.

Monday, May 28th is Memorial Day, but as far as I can tell, it will be a fairly tame day with general family bonding/togetherness activities. Martin and I will probably leave sometime that evening to drive back to her apartment for a Jurassic Park movie marathon... er... I mean, to get some sleep and recuperate from the weekend's activities.

The next morning we will have to get up quite early, as I need to be to the airport by 6am on Tuesday, May 29th for my flight back to good ole Utah. I will then perhaps find a caring soul waiting for me at the airport to drive me back to Provo, thereby officially ending my vacation.

Now, doesn't that just sound awesome?

I thought so.

My Ninety-seventh Post

Miss Uffish Thought was kind enough to loan me Miss Manner's Guide to Excruciatingly Correct Behavior, which I have spent a large portion of my day reading. I don't think I'm really going to change any of my behavior, but it has made me feel guiltier about licking the cream cheese off of my fingers after devouring a slice of warm banana nut bread... WITHOUT A FORK AND KNIFE! *gasp!*

My Ninety-sixth Post

So It seems I have forgotten how to blog, neh? Well, never fear, I shall overcome this temporary weekness!

Except... I can never think of anything fun to blog about lately. I wrote this up about a week ago, but I had changed my mind about posting it. Since I am now at a loss for things to blog about, I’ll use it anyway. It will be very exciting, but first you will need to know...

The Cast of Characters (or, a brief description of family members that may or may not play an essential role in my vacation):

• Mean Mommy: My eldest sister. Pfft. This title is of her own choosing, and it does not reflect my opinions about her parenting skills. Married to Bil (my Brother-In-Law… get it?) with three children, Princess (4 yrs), Little Boy (2 yrs), and Sweetheart (6 mo).
• Menace: Formerly Menace to Society, but since he got married last year, he is now just a Menace to me. Married to Sil. Since none of you know them, I feel no guilt in revealing the fact that they are expecting their own little bundle of joy in about, oh… eight months or so.
• Martin: At one time referred to as Sundevil, the Sundevil Apostate, or the Sundevil Who Refused to Come to BYU For Some Reason that None of Us Can Understand. She has since graduated from college and so instead, she will be referred to as Martin.
• Faybe: I gave my little sister this title when we were kids, and it has lasted throughout the years. Faybe is actually her superhero alter ego. (I believe my superhero name was the Super-Duper Waker-Upper… my power was being able to wake up small children in time to catch the bus to school. Not nearly as cool as Faybe.)
• Char: Char is one of my little brothers, and he and I are buds. Best known for naming our cat after himself.
• Runner: My youngest brother, so titled because he likes to run. A lot.

Aaaand... now I don't feel like telling you about my awesome itenerary for the last week of May. I guess you'll just have to check back later.