Tuesday, December 31, 2002

week of knowledge

some things that i've learned this past week...
* the definition of segacious: shrewd; logical; rational; everything i am NOT
* a cup of steven's mint truffle hot chocolate has 160 calories.
* all-a-dollar provides all the basic necessities of life.
* my great aunt pauline's kids are adopted. sadly i am not.
* the guy at kinkos thinks that when i was little i looked like the pepsi commercial girl.
* when you order an ebook it is not delivered to your house. it is kept on your computer and accessed with a code.
* the definition of incussiant: nonchalant; carefree. (next week i hope to learn how to spell it.)
* it is in fact possible to despise someone one day and adore them the next... and then despise them again.
* i can eat more mashed potatoes in one sitting than my dad can.
* my friends weren't lying, "lord of the rings" is a good movie.
that's quite a lot to learn all at once if you ask me.

Thursday, December 19, 2002

pack rat

i'm a pack rat. i save EVERYTHING! and it's ridiculous.
i have clothes in my closet that pre-date bananarama but i refuse to throw them away because i might need them in the future. i have so much stuff that i haven't used in years, and yet the minute i try to clean out my closet, i have this unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach that i might need these items in the future. it's like how james bond gets a whole bunch of really specific gadgets at the beginning of the movie and then throughout the film, those gadgets become strangely appropriate. ("phew... it's a good thing i had my shaving cream can that actually contains yellow spray paint, thus allowing me to inflitrate goldfinger's lab by pretending to be a large banana. otherwise i would have been killed.") it's almost though it was planned. hmmm... so as i was saying, can you imagine what would happen if james bond suddenly said, "with all these gadgets, i can't pack my tuxedo. i haven't used this shaving cream/ spray paint for ages, i'll just throw it out." there would be dire consequences!!
this is why i keep old clothes.

Wednesday, December 18, 2002

"death by christmas shopping"

that's what the coroner is going to say when i am found DEAD. it's terrifying to go out in the chaos. i've tried to do most of my shopping online, but you know that sooner or later, you have to change out of your pajamas, and go out. i went to walmart the other day to buy wrapping paper and a candle. let me tell you about the courage that i found hidden deep within me. i think that walmart's aisles get progressively narrower, especially around christmas time. little aisles plus big shopping carts equals a battle to the death. i don't know how i survived. children were being thrown everywhere, old people were moving unnaturally fast, and everyone had this look in their eye. a mixture of extreme desperation and hunger. but i went into the depths of walmart, and fought for the wrapped paper, and came out only slightly mangled. next year i'm not going to buy presents, i'm just going to give cash.

Friday, December 13, 2002


in my psychology classes, i always learn about erik erikson. i know very little about him except that he had a theory that people go through psychosocial stages. the idea is that as you grow up you move from one stage to another and you can't move to a new stage until you've resolved the conflict in the previous one. conflicts like trust vs mistrust, identity vs role confusion, or intimacy vs isolation. i don't know, maybe the way i've described it makes it sound dull, but i'm absolutely intrigued by the idea that everyone has to go through the same stuggles regardless of culture or gender or time period. i appreciate the fact that erikson described each stage of growth in terms of "conflict". i like that personal growth is something that has to happen, and is meant to happen. just like mental progression and personal progression are a natural part of living, so is spiritual progression. spiritual progression is also defined in terms of "conflict". it's a vital part of growing, and inextricably connected to our minds and our personalities.
so...umm...ya...erikson is cool.

Friday, December 06, 2002

krazy kat lady

boycotting society is the happiest move i've ever made. i no longer feel out of control. did you know that i have the power to react how i want to? it's true. i forgot that i could do that. now i have a lust for power. maybe i will boycott other things... like exercise. that's a good one. and finals. yep, definately boycotting finals. and also the 10 o'clock news. i don't know why, i just want to. ha! i don't have to be perfect all the time. i don't even have to keep up the charade of being perfect. do you realize how ridiculous it is that i honestly didn't understand this before? i don't have to be magnanimous. this small, but all important epiphany has made me so incredibly content because i no longer feel under the thumb of everyone around me. i'm no longer obligated to do an elaborate juggling act. when did my attitude of "rely on me" become one of "walk all over me"? and will this new "back off" attitude become one of "look at me and i'll throw something at you"? i doubt it. just because i went to one extreme doesn't mean i'm going to careen towards crazy cat lady status.

Thursday, December 05, 2002


the managers at my apartment complex decided to replace the stairs to my building. i was awakened yesterday by a tumult that i at first assumed to be the apocolypse. turns out it was a handful of some very colorful men with jack hammers and sledge hammers and every other kind of hammer. they completely demolished our stair case, and then sometime around 2pm left.
they haven't come back yet.
we have a hole where our stairs should be. luckily there are orange cones surrounding it to prevent me from falling into the gaping maw 5 feet from my door. thank heavens.

maybe i should steal some of the orange cones and construct a device such that the orange cones will surround me all the time. it could act as some kind of warning to prevent people from falling into the gaping maw of my idiosyncrasies.

Tuesday, December 03, 2002


last night i had a non date with mark. and by that i mean that we were supposed to go to a counting crows concert. but the tickets fell through. so mark watched me play spider solitaire for 3 hours.
three hours.
i was not happy. and subsequently i don't blame myself at all for ditching him. for saying i had things to do and leaving.
of course, i had no place to go. so i went to james'. i'm not smart. i hung out with jake for awhile but the moment james came into the living room i remembered that i don't like him.
which meant that i went to the only other place to go at 1 am in provo. walmart.
eventually i went home (due to a few phone calls from liz) and sat on my couch. until my cell phone rang. it was james. then my other phone rang. it was mark.
james waited patiently (he was really very nice abou it) as i apologized to mark (he was very nice about it too) for being a flake. then james asked me to come over. he was direct. and civil.
i figured something must be wrong. i said i'd be right over.
when i went out to my car i saw that it was covered with chocolate and roses.
i had no idea what was going on. i went to james' and we sat in my car while he pointed out a few things...
  1. he "constantly" thought about me over thanksgiving break,
  2. it hurts him when i talk to other guys,
  3. he doesn't treat me as well as he should (thus the chocolate and flowers)
  4. he has all these "tender feelings" towards me.
i wanted to get out of my car and run away. screaming. and waving my hands in the air.
but i was stuck.
i thought to myself, "james is always going to be around. i deserve this."
which is why i let him kiss me.
but mid kiss i totally had an epiphany. i'd had such a crappy day. and such a crappy past few months and it was so stupid. me, james, dating, my newly acquired flare for drama queening... it's all so idiotic.
as of now i do deserve james. he's told me so many valid things. i am spoiled, manipulative, conceited, insincere, all of it. but i've never been mopey before. i've never had insomnia. i've never been afraid of my friends and my family. i've never been afraid of myself.
i've never been that person. i don't need to be that person.
i'm determined to fix this. do you think i can?


new rules to help me establish my happy apathy place
(in other words, how to become a recluse)...
rule #1: no visiting people, especially if those people are also boys.
rule #2: if someone comes over to visit, do not put down current project to give full attention.
rule #3: say no to all possible dates unless doing so would severely damage ego of fragile young man.
rule #4: do not stay in rec room after ward prayer to socialize.
rule #5: do not write 5 billion love notes to everyone.
rule #6: do not plan/execute toga parties, hot tub clubs, dinners, desert clubs, etc.
rule #7: do not call james. in fact, delete his number from cell phone.

i cherish apathy. i revel in it. it is my refuge from world that refuses to do what i tell it to.
have you ever read the book "you are special" by max lucado? i love it. it's a fantastic book about little puppets who give each other gold stars or gray dots, depending on what they judge to be deserved. at the end the woodcutter, the one who made all the puppets, explains that the stars and dots only stay on if they are believed to matter.
it's amazing how my two sentence summarily butchered such a sweet story.
i bring this book up because in a very strange, twisted way, that's what i'm trying to accomplish with apathy. it's my shortcut to happiness. or at least a compromise.
i don't want people to like me. i don't want them to hate me. i just want them to leave me alone.
let max lucado shudder at his book being applied thus.

Monday, December 02, 2002

last straws

weekend of death. micah and i decided to rally together everyone who was back from thanksgiving break and play with a great spirit of irresponsibility. mid play group, i decided to do a quick sweep of the apartments in my ward to make sure everyone was invited.
ok, that's a partial truth. while walking over to micah's, i ran into james who i guess wanted to grace me with his unshowered presence. i dragged him with me to micah's where he, as always, went and sat quietly in a corner out of pure contrariness. i'd be talking to people and i'd look over and see him staring at me with a look of frustration and confusion.
so i left.
i ended up in apartment talking to an old friend. the same person who i used to consider one of my best friends... until he came back for fall semester and hated me. i hate when that happens.
my frustration with james carried over and exponentially increased my frustration with this guy. i began asking very straightforward questions. it seemed like a very good and mending idea at the time until i realized that very straight forward questions produce very straight forward answers.
so i left.
i went back to the play group and saw that james had left, thus leaving me with the implication of ditching him. my frustration level was again squared, or possibly even cubed. play group was no longer an option for me.
so i left.
i went home, called james and apologized, and looked forward to having some time alone to cool down. i told myself to relax. i think i even used the phrase "take a chill pill". unfortunately, i only had exedrin and a multivitamin. i opted for the vitamin but before i could calm down my roomate came home and there was no way i was going to be able to have a sane conversation.
so i left.
i had this genius idea to take a walk. but turns out it's frigidly cold nowadays, so i got in my car turned it on, put the seat down, turned the heat up full blast, and listened to "rhapsody in blue" (my second all time favorite song ever ("adagio for strings" taking first place)). i felt my frustration leaving me in the same exponential fashion in which it had previously risen -would that mean that my frustration was square rooted?- until there was a knock on the window. it was 3 boys from my ward. i sat for a minute and tried to think of a reason, any reason, i could give them for sleeping in my car without seeming like the complete lunatic i am.
nothing came...
leaving me to mumble something about going to the store, and then taking a nap. two of the guys wisely left me alone, but one was more daring and came into my car to talk. i tried to think of an answer, any answer, to the question, "is something wrong?" it had to be believable. it had to have tinge of normalcy.
nothing came...
and from that point on i have no idea what i said to him. i can't remember. i must have blacked out from panic, because the next thing i remember is this brave little man putting his head sympathetically on my knee. i patted him reassuringly and wondered what i had said.
i looked out my window hoping to find the answer.
instead i saw james staring at me with a look of frustration and confusion.
what's the polite thing to do in a situation like that? how was i to proceed?
my solution: smile and wave.
james went up to my apartment and in an homage to chris farley, i started hitting my head with both hands and yelling, "stupid! stupid! stupid!" my car was obviously not the place to find solace.
so i left.
and went back up to my apartment where i sat for the next couple of hours with an air of resignation.

that was my night of last straws, and if i had a camel i'm sure it's back would be broken in two! i give up! i am hereby a recluse. i don't want to get to know people anymore because i'll have fun with them and start to depend on them at which point they will "straightforwardly" tell me that i am manipulative, and insincere, and immature, and smelly, and i won't be able to tell myself that it's just because they don't know the real me.
i'm so tired of people telling me what's wrong with me. when i was in elementary school i used to combat teasings by yelling at the top of my lungs "STICKS AND STONES MAY BREAK MY BONES BUT WORDS WILL NEVER HURT ME!" and i believed it. now when being bombarded with horrible (yet valid) accusations i just want to say, "if you don't lay off, i'm going to get a big stick and break some bones."
aw... the wisdom that comes with age.
or perhaps rather than going on a neandertholic bone breaking rampage, i'll just cut myself off.

Saturday, November 30, 2002

thanksgiving 2002

some highlights...

grandma: apparently it's very inconvenient to have a family member who is hard of hearing. i read an article about how it can be very trying on a person's patience when they have to repeat everything over and over again.
great aunt: where did you read that article?
grandma: what?

my crazy cousin disappeared into his room and when he emerged, he was wearing a clint eastwood type belt with a pearl handled revolver, a dagger, another gun, and some amo. he paused in the doorway so that we would get the full effect and i swear i saw a tumble weed go by.
crazy cousin: i'm going to go for a walk.
me: (look at my watch) but it's not high noon yet.
crazy cousin: brigham young said that we should arm ourselves.
me:... dude, he was talking about the armor of god.
crazy cousin: i'm going to go back to church.
me: right now?
crazy cousin: i'm tired of being the oldest priest in utah valley.
me: ok.
crazy cousin: ...soooo... how many whores can you keep if you're active in the church?
me: no more than three.
crazy cousin: i see. didn't brigham young have 16 wives?
me: more like 27. and that was for eternity.
crazy cousin: no way.
me: way.

my great aunt: what is thong underwear?
mom: why don't you explain it kathryn...

me: if i was a lesbian would you guys still come to my wedding?
grandma: what?
me: if i was a lesbian, would you still come to my wedding?
mom: kathryn! don't say that.
me: what?
mom: the L word.
me: lesbian?
g-ma: lettuce?
great aunt: cary grant was gay.
me: did diane cannon know that?
g-ma: i want to come to your wedding!!
me: yay!

Wednesday, November 27, 2002

"home is where the heart is."

i've heard that about 50 billion times but i'm not convinced of it's validity as my heart always resides within my ribcage, and thus travels with me where ever i go making me the human equivalent of an rv. someone once told me that "home is where you stuff is". i don't know about that. i have stuff at my apartment, at my parents' house, at my grandma's house, at friend's houses, and -thanks to the "open borrowing" system prevalent in my ward- in almost every apartment in the villa apartment complex. maybe "home is where you sleep". no, because then i would have homes all across the country as well as in mexico and my car. i can't take that kind of pressure. so why is my little 5 room, no space apartment "home"? if it's not because "home is where the cinder block walls and lead based paint are", it has to be because "home is where you can be yourself". i am more myself in my little apartment than i am anywhere else. that must be home.

Tuesday, November 26, 2002

thanksgiving flashback

thanksgiving is notoriously the worst day of my year, and when it's not the worst, it's the weirdest.
here's a snippet of last year's dinner conversation...

carolyn: i re-read "the house of the spirits". it was so dirty. i don't remember it being that dirty in high school.
mom: of course it's dirty. that's why the parents didn't want you reading it at west high.
dad: what book?
carolyn: "the house of the spirits".
mom: that and "grendel"
me: i never read "grendel". i supposed to, but it was boring...
dad: when did you read "the house of the spirits"?
carolyn: at west.
me: "beowolf" was boring too.
mom: it had the scene where he looks up the queen's skirt.
grandma: "beowolf" is an old book.
me: all the classics have "questionable" material.
mom: "the house of the spirits" was so inappropriate.
me: did you ever read it?
mom: no, but i saw part of the movie...
dad: what's west?
carolyn: it's where we went to high school.
me: "grapes of wrath" had language, bludgeoning, and it ended with a woman breast feeding a starving man...
mom: merryl streepe was in it...
me: "scarlet letter" was all about adultery and vengeance...
dad: you went to school with merryl streepe?
carolyn: no.
mom: winona rider was in it...
me: and don't even get me started on "crime and punishment"...
dad: i always liked "1984".
carolyn: except it didn't come true.
mom: jeremy irons was in it...
me: "color purple" had all the lesbian sex...
dad: what?
carolyn: they read "the house of the spirits" at the y.
grandma: did you ever read "lady chatterly's lover" in high school?
me: no.
dad: who?
mom: "lady chatterly's lover". it's an old book.
carolyn: umm...
grandma: the heroine has an affair with a man because her husband has no penis.
-silence. and then hysterical laughter.

Monday, November 18, 2002

no arizona

i'm not going to arizona. i shall stay in provo until i graduate or die, whichever comes first. i know that i'm making the right decision, that arizona is not the right move, but i wish it were. i wish it felt right. it's good to know that you're in the right place doing what you should. there's a confidence that comes with it. but right at this very moment i feel stuck because i'm where i should be, but i'm not happy. i keep on feeling the need to escape, to be anywhere but here, but i know that in the long run i'll be happier if i stay here, but i don't know why. all i can say is the wait had better be worth it, or i'm writing an angry letter.

Saturday, November 16, 2002

swatch watch

i bought a really cool new watch today.
it reminds me of the watch i had in 4th grade. the watch my mom bought for me because i felt i'd matured past my swatch watch.
i was a fickle child.
in 3rd grade i thought my swatch watch was the coolest thing ever. it was a pink miniature volkswagon bug and to see what time it was you would push a little button and the hood would flip up.
it made me what i am today.
yet i was so cavalier about throwing it way. i threw away my pink volkswagon swatch watch without blinking an eye because my new watch had a light making it possible to tell time at night. that was a watch more befitting a 4th grader. wearing that new watch and my neon orange slap bracelet, i held my trapper keeper tightly, and i knew i was grown up.
not just grown up, i was unstoppable.

girl code

i constantly hear boys whining about how complicated girls are. this makes me laugh. a lot.
one of my friends is fully convinced that girls talk in some elaborate code. everytime a girl quotes a movie or refers to an inside joke he doesn't understand, he turns to me and says, "see! that's code."
maybe girls are complicated. let me rephrase... maybe the girls who aren't me are complicated.
i am not hard to win over. i'm completely ready to love my fellow man. all a person has to do is compliment me... and also give me chocolate.
i like people who make me happy. compliments make me happy. chocolate makes me happy.
and no, i'm not speaking in code.

Friday, November 15, 2002

is it any wonder i'm like this?

some glimpses into the people that i love...

my dad...
dad: hello honey.
me: hi daddy.
dad: where have you been?
me: school.
dad: oh. when do you apply for college?
me: i've been in college for over 3 years. i live in provo now.
dad: you do?
me: uh hu.
dad: that's nice.

my grandmother...
g-ma: what have you done to your hair now?
me: ummm... combed it?
g-ma: why do you dye your hair? you had such pretty hair.
me: ok.
g-ma: dye ruins your hair.
me: it's hair.
g-ma: do you want to ruin your hair?
me: i guess so.

my roommates...
me: my dog was the smartest dog ever.
em: what?
liz: you're a freak!
me: no, you are!
em: i wish you weren't such a liar.
me: i can't believe that you hate animals.
liz: i don't, you freak.
em: ya... i just wish you weren't such a liar.

my bestfriend...
kate: i broke up with vince.
me: oh no.
kate: ya... and he didn't even buy me a break up present.
me: ummm... didn't you dump him?
kate: yes. but it was really hard for me. he could've at least sent flowers.

my sister...
carolyn: you're friends with that guy?
me: um... ya.
carolyn: and you talk to him?
me: yep.
carolyn: that's great.
me: ok.
carolyn: it makes me so happy to see my little sister making it here in provo.
me: ... ya... gives me the chills just thinking about it.

my leencohney...
lincoln: hey there.
me: i'm sorry, were you talking? because i wasn't listening.
linco: brat.
me: jerk
linco: shrew.
me: moron.
linco: spinster.
me: lunatic.
linco: ...good times.
me: heehee.

my mom...
me: i broke up with the guy i was dating.
mom: you were dating someone?!
me: yes.
mom: really?!?!
me: yes.
mom: why aren't you dating him anymore?
me: i don't know.
mom: oh.
me: i guess... well... he likes to "humble" me all the time.
mom: humble you? what does that mean?
me: he tells me what's wrong with me.
mom: he can't do that! the next time he tries to, you tell him that it's not his job to humble you.
me: ok.
mom: it's my job.

my pal james...
james: are you emotionally attached to me?
me: hu?...umm...yes?
james: like in that movie with that girl who's in "clueless"?
me: alicia silverstone?
james: yes. in that movie where she's crazy.
me: oh... nope. gotta say, i'm not obsessed with you.
james: oh.
me: sorry... why? are you obsessed with me?
james: no.
me: looks like our relationship is stalker free.
james: yep.
me: yay.

Thursday, November 14, 2002


last night i got a call from a counselor to tell me i've made it into an art college in arizona. mmmm... arizona where it's warm all year through. i might never have to wear shoes again. this whole arizona thing has come together so randomly and perfectly so i don't feel that i can discount it. but i don't want to leave this lovely little comfort zone i've nested myself in.

Wednesday, November 13, 2002


my mom gives great advice. not that i've ever willingly followed it.
it's not that i disagree with her advice. it's that i'll come to her with a problem and without hesitation, she tells me what i should do. it makes me feel stupid for a second because the answer seems so clear to her, and then i get mad because, hey! i'm not stupid, just young and confused. then i storm off and find the right decision on my own. the fact that my right decision and my mom's right decision almost always coincide isn't the point. although i do spend a lot of energy making it seem like i'm not doing what my mom told me to do.
(example: after i got my belly button pierced, i couldn't think of a way to take it out without making it seem like i was doing what my mom had been ordering me to do for the past 18 months. i finally took it out but didn't tell her. i'm still not sure if she knows.)
the great thing is, i give advice just like my mom. whenever people confide in me, i'm 110% certain how they should act and i know that if they would just do what i tell them, all their problems would be solved.
no doubt in my mind.
but people don't confide in you because they want advice, they confide in you because they want a sounding board. everyone is independent and ferociously protective of their decision making abilities. it's crazy. so i try and have this "no advice" rule where i hide my advice very carefully so as to influence them but not force them into a rebellious frenzy.
it's like when i used to hide a pill in my dogs food so she would eat it.
in order to make everyone swallow my advice, i tell anecdotes from my very full past and how i reacted, and that usually prompts them into making the decision they probably would've made anyways, but with a degree more confidence.
sometimes i slip and go on a "you should..." rampage. it never works and i end up having to put even more effort into cleaning up the bloody aftermath.
is it any wonder then, that when i was encouraged to give some direct and down to earth advice to someone, i wanted to say no? how on earth am i supposed to tell someone what they should do without them drop kicking me out of their apartment? i'm really good at giving subtle hints. why couldn't i have been asked to give lot's of subtle hints? or lead by example! i'm awesome at leading by example. but no, i'm supposed to give some caring, honest, and straightforward help.
groan... maybe tomorrow.

Monday, November 11, 2002


i'm weird. i've suspected it for years, but seems like when i turned 21 all semblance of normalcy left. i've noticed that people have started to refer to me as weird, something that never used to happen. i've always been "funny" or "quirky" but apparently now my weirdness is so prevalent and overt that acquaintances don't even try to downplay their reaction. i don't really care about trying to seem stable. some people are good with numbers. some people have good hair. some people are good at singing. i am good at being weird.
deal with it.

watch out for the mogels!!

i don't ski. i've never ever done it. i will most likely never ski because i don't like the cold, i don't like heights, and i really don't like broken bones. but i've had the following conversation with random strangers about 5 billion times...
random stranger: where are you from?
me: utah.
random and very assuming stranger: oh. do you ski?
me: no.
random judgemental stranger: why not?

there is no good and succinct answer to the "why not?" question. no matter what i say, i come off as freakish. so now i take the easy way out and i lie...
random stranger: where are you from?
me: utah.
random, about to be lied to, stranger: do you ski?
me: not well. (i'm sure that if i ever skied, i would not do it well, but to the random stranger it comes off as modesty)
random gullible stranger: do you like skiing or snowboarding better?
me: snowboarding. (not a complete lie since i think snowboarding sounds much cooler than skiing and thus i like it better. besides, i view myself as embracing all that is youthful and edgey, and so my hypothetical winter sport of choice is obviously snowboarding.)

there. i've come clean. i lie about skiing. i lie about it all the time. i lied about it to my ex-quasi-boyfriend when he came home with a new snowboard under his arm. we even ended up talking about my favorite resorts and planned a future excursion. i lied about skiing on my date saturday night. it's just easier that way.
i do the same thing with dating. the dating world is like one huge skiing extravaganza and i have no idea what's going on. my dating history is virtually nonexistent and i always find myself having similar ski-like conversations...
random aquaintence/family member/vagrant: what are you up to nowadayz?
me: school. i'm at byu and i'm majoring in illustration which i...
random horrible person: are you dating anyone?
me: no.
random aggravatingly chatty person: hmmm... well, you're pretty, why not?

again with the "why not?". three years ago, when that conversation first started happening, i tried to answer it seriously. i'd mumble something about commitment issues, or the timing not being right. then i started to see the humor in it and would say something like, "well, ever since my last boyfriend took out that restraining order i've just been a little hesitant..." or "i have syphillis" or just "i'm not normal, ok?" but now i take the easy road. i've learned to say, "not anymore" and my all time favorite, "i still have a hard time talking about it." that way i don't have to expend as much energy and i also don't immediately come off as freakish.
there. i've come clean again. i lie about my lack of dating experience. and again, i lied to my ex-quasi-boyfriend about it. ooo! but i didn't lie about it on my date saturday night, so HA!