Friday, August 28, 2009


I consider it a blessing that in the blogosphere we can be anonymous. It allows us to say what we normally wouldn’t say. It prevents us from making assumptions based on appearance. I try not to make assumptions based on what someone looks like, but it’s hard not to.

Years ago I worked in a large company, in the purchasing department, so I spoke to vendors everyday. Very often it was the same people day after day, because we bought a lot of software from a few select companies. When you talk to somebody that much, you’re bound to get to know them a little bit. I remember there was one woman in particular that I spoke to every day without fail, because I loved talking to her. Even when I had nothing to order from her, I called to chat, or she called me. I grew to not only enjoy our conversations, but I loved her voice. She was a Texan, born and bred, and she had the cutest little drawl. I was enamored by it. I imagined she’d make a great radio personality.

Due to my overactive imagination, at some point I began create a picture of this woman in my mind. Based on her voice, I gave her a particular complexion, features, hair color and body type. You can imagine something long enough that it becomes what you believe.

Then came an opportunity to meet her in person. We had become good friends. The companies we worked for had a good working relationship. She was temporarily transferred to another office near where I happened to be visiting, and I took the chance to stop by and introduce myself. I wanted it to be a surprise. And it was.

I don’t remember exactly how it went—I’d have to consult my journal from that time—but I was woefully disappointed. The physical person connected to this fascinating and beautiful voice that I had fallen in love with was not at all what I imagined her to be. She was not outwardly attractive. I wanted to close my eyes as I sat and talked to her, just so I could hear her voice and conjure up what I envisioned instead of what I was actually seeing.

I may have been more shallow back then. I know I worshipped physical beauty a lot more than I do now. Maybe I just enjoy the mystery of things, but I get a kick out of anonymity. Feel free to now express how self-conscious you feel. :)

Thursday, August 27, 2009

my love is orange

This seemed appropriate for Alex...well, and Rachel. That last bit.

Your Love is Orange

When you love someone, you're willing to put it all on the line. You are bold in your romantic choices.

You find love to be exciting, and you'll take a risk on a dangerous relationship that might not work out.

You are very intelligent, and you are drawn in at first by a mental connection. Brains turn you on.

For you, seduction and dating can be a bit of a game. You always have a clear picture of what's going on and what you need to do to succeed.

Brought to you by Blogthings.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009


Mr D. It’s been many years since I wrote his name in my journal. I had the maddest crush on him in high school. And beyond. And he was always very nice to me, which I give him credit for, because he must have known how much I liked him, and he could have avoided me but he didn’t. When I first saw that he was on Facebook, I didn’t ask for his friendship. I didn’t think there was much point. But he requested mine. How nice, and how very consistent with how he always was. And his pictures…? Well, he’s a guy, so he’s not too much into uploading all kinds of pictures for people to look at, but there is this one of his wife, I assume, because again, like a guy, he doesn’t tag the photos. She’s beautiful. I would have expected nothing less of him. Those D-- boys could always get whatever girl they wanted.

Monday, August 24, 2009

confession booth

Things I learned from Mindi's confession booth:

*Mindi has more male readers than I ever would have thought.
*People are sexual creatures and full of hormones, and as soon as they are given an anonymous outlet, they let loose. This should not have surprised me.
*Because of the previous, I should probably refrain from reading it next time.
*People confess some stinking weird crap that I'd rather not know.
*Many people enjoy commenting on others' confessions, which I admit was sometimes tempting.
*Some people don't know the difference between confessing and starting an argument.
*There are lots of other girls that fantasize about girls, which I find strangely satisfying.
*If you ever wanted to believe that "all people are good, deep down," you'd be wrong.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

craving connection

I feel the need for connection. With a real person. I need a face-to-face conversation that goes beyond the surface of things, and lasts longer than a few minutes. It’s been a while. Last night I was sitting in the yard with my little six month-old niece who’s struggling to crawl. I was watching her inspect the dead leaves in the grass and consider putting them in her mouth, and I was pulling weeds from the flower beds, and I had this desire to go and visit someone. I thought about who would welcome me, who would have time to sit and listen and want to connect as much as I did. And I couldn’t think of anybody. At least nearby. And my sister came and sat in the grass with us and that was okay. But I’m still feeling it today: that need for connection.

The relief society retreat is this weekend. Maybe I’ll discover a kindred spirit among the women in my ward. One can hope.

AT, want to give me a holler after you get done dancing your glitter off in Vegas this weekend? ;)

Picture courtesy of Aaron Blake Evans.

Monday, August 17, 2009

let's stop and chat

I love the way people in vehicles communicate to other drivers. You say things to other drivers while you're in the car that you might never say to their faces. But there are also communications that you do want them to hear. There’s the favored and maybe overused finger, which of course indicates anger or irritation. There’s a simple stare. There’s movement of the body that indicates you’re really enjoying your music. My favorite is the universal two hands up in the air. Everyone has seen this. Many may have done it to someone. It basically means they don’t understand. It means you’re in your car and I am in my car and I do not have any explanation for what you just did that caused me to choke on my breakfast. Sometimes I wish there could just be a universal signal that meant, “Hey, let’s stop and explain.” Then I could tell you that the reason I stayed on the wrong side of the road for so long and swerved over to my own side just before we collided was because I’m familiar enough with this road to know that on my side there is this crater-sized dip that causes whiplash unless I go over it at 2 mph, and I knew that I could get past it in enough time that I could get back to my own side before you got there. Trust me. I’m in control of my vehicle. I’m not a crazy person. And then we could just get back into our cars and continue on to our respective destinations.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

my neighbor

“The next time you go to Ikea, may I come with you?”

That’s what I want to ask her. Every time I’m at her house (which is weekly, since we hold choir practice there), she has a new decoration procured from the stylish Swedish superstore. Her house could easily be the model Ikea house, which to some might seem rather loud and obnoxiously colorful, but she makes no apologies, and this is why I love her. My nieces call it the “mustard house” because it is painted mustard yellow on the outside, coupled with some charcoal-colored siding. She fills the yard with flowers: tulips by the hundreds in the spring, rose bushes, irises, Indian paintbrushes. Inside the house are deep reds, ocean blues, black leather, and more mustard. The floors are dark wood draped with colorful rugs. There are art prints and (her own) photographs on the walls. She is an excellent photographer.

It’s not the way she looks that draws me to her. She’s tall and plump. (She could stand to lose 30 or 40 pounds, but why?) Her teeth are crooked and her blue eyes are small and her nose is big. She hails from the desert state of Wyoming—a fact that is neither romantic nor exotic. She drives a plain, old blue minivan. She adorns herself much like she decorates, with handmade skirts from the whimsical fabric that nobody else would buy. She makes her own purses. There is no pigeonhole where she neatly fits.

I have written before that I have wished to be her child. She has three handsome boys—all well-behaved, all musically-gifted, all charmingly masculine like their father, and all undoubtedly and unabashedly loved. I wonder what it would be like to live there in that house, where no one ever seems to get angry or depressed, where voices are calm and soothing, where meals are prepared together and eaten by candlelight. I realize I wander about in an alternate reality. No family is without their problems and challenges. Okay, maybe I don’t what to live there, exactly. But I want to go with her to Ikea.

Monday, August 10, 2009


So MJ's birthday is this week. I like to acknowledge birthdays. I think it's a nice gesture. Makes the individual feel like you care about them (which I do). But because we're not "best friends" anymore, how do I acknowledge it this year?

Friday, August 07, 2009


Writing the MJ story is not as hard anymore. I don’t know what happened. Something clicked in me. MJ has become, in my perception, kind of a screwed up, unstable kid, for lack of a more comprehensive definition. It’s not that I question why I was ever attracted to her, because there are lots of logical reasons for that. I just don’t want anymore what I used to want. And that feels good.

Wednesday, August 05, 2009

my life according to Keane

(I wanted to play too...) My Life According to...

Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions. Try not to repeat a song title. It's a lot harder than you think! Repost as "my life according to (band name)"

Pick your Artist:

Describe yourself:
Nothing In My Way

How do you feel:
Better Than This

Describe where you currently live:
Somewhere Only We Know

If you could go anywhere, where would you go:

Your favorite form of transportation:
Can't Stop Now

Your best friend:
She Has No Time

You and your best friend are:
We Might As Well Be Strangers

What's the weather like:
Black Burning Heart

Favorite time of day:
Time To Go

If your life was a TV show, what would it be called:
Everybody's Changing

What is life to you:
Playing Along

Your relationship:
Leaving So Soon?

Your fear:
You Don't See Me

What is the best advice you have to give:
Put It Behind You

Thought for the Day:
Pretend That You're Alone

How I would like to die:
Love Is The End

My soul's present condition:
Thin Air

My motto:
Let It Slide

my life according to Alanis

(I was tagged.) My Life According to...

Using only song names from ONE ARTIST, cleverly answer these questions. Try not to repeat a song title. It's a lot harder than you think! Repost as "my life according to (band name)."

Pick your Artist:
Alanis Morissette

Describe yourself:

How do you feel:
You Owe Me Nothing in Return

Describe where you currently live:
So-Called Chaos

If you could go anywhere, where would you go:
Right Through You

Your favorite form of transportation:
Head Over Feet

Your best friend:
Sympathetic Character

You and your best friend are:
Heart of the House

What's the weather like:

Favorite time of day:
Wake Up

If your life was a TV show, what would it be called:
These R the Thoughts

What is life to you:

Your relationship:
21 Things I Want in a Lover

Your fear:

What is the best advice you have to give:
Limbo No More

Thought for the Day:
Doth I Protest Too Much

How I would like to die:
Giggling Again For No Reason

My soul's present condition:
That I Would Be Good

My motto:
8 Easy Steps

Tuesday, August 04, 2009

go dog go!

The formation of this list of annoyances came as a result of being annoyed with the little poodle that lives here where I work, who, for no obvious reason, loves me dearly and would follow me wherever I went and sleep under my desk if the younger residents of the household would let him.

Five Reasons Why I Dislike Dogs

  1. No matter how much you pet them, they still want more.

  2. They jump up on you to get your attention. Especially little dogs, and untrained dogs.

  3. They don’t smell good.

  4. They’re messy, both with their eating and their bathroom duties.

  5. They chew on anything and everything, including electrical cords, plastic flowers, carpet and packing peanuts. After consuming that last item, they throw up. Understandably.