Good... And Good for You

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 c

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

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

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.

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.

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.

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. h

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.

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 confid

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.

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. beside