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!