"Stories only happen to those who are able to tell them." -- Paul Auster

Is there anything that sounds more ridiculous, when it's supposed to sound serious, than "Hail to the Chief"? I submit there is not.

I'm sitting at the airport on the thin window sill, a handrail in my back, waiting for my flight that leaves in an hour. Directly in front of me is a couple, dressed as if about to climb a mountain and sleep in a tent. They seem nice enough. But any kind thoughts I have for them are clouded by the fact that they have taken a bench of 3 seats and pulled it toward themselves so they not only have a place for their back-sides, but their feet also. Heaven forbid I should want a seat without a rod sticking into my back if that means imposing on the comfort of their feet. Seriously? They look like they could hibernate on a pile of rocks, and yet they need six seats for two people. Nice.
Update: An old man, bless his soul, came over a few minutes after I wrote the above statement and pulled the bench right out from under their feet. He smiled and made an inaudible comment, then he sat down and read his newspaper. He's got the right idea: don't blog about your people-problems. Do something about them. But I have to say, people forgive you a lot easier when you're either very young or very old. They must assume you're incoherent or crazy. I can't wait for those days.


Coming soon: 

"A BYU Greek Tragedy"
Starring Barbie and Ken as Molly Mormon and Peter Priesthood

Critics are raving.


Thanksgiving was awesome. In part because of this little face, and the other one that looks just like it.


Thoughts on a Sunday night:

Do you ever wonder how you can miss someone you've never met? I do.

Why is it that I feel the need to use an expenentially larger amount of exclamation points when writing to females? Especially ones I don't know very well? I could tell you why, because I know why, but it's much too tiring to write.


Sincerity is in my top five favorite attributes. Think about when someone genuinely says, "Have a good night." Not in passing, not in a habitual farewell, but with real caring in their voice, says, "Hey, have a good night." My night is good, because they said it.

Yeah, I really like sincerity.

I used to be afraid that as I grew older, things of my childhood would lose their excitement. Like Christmas and birthdays and getting your favorite food for dinner. In some ways it's true. I can sleep pretty well on Christmas Eve. My birthday isn't as special as it was when I woke up to my mom singing "Happy Birthday" into a wooden spoon. And if I want my favorite food, I go out and buy it myself, whether it's 4 in the afternoon or 4 in the morning. But I think something more awesome has taken the place of my excitement for events. I get excited about the people. When Kelsey came to Provo in September, I couldn't sleep the night before. This week I'm going to Texas for Thanksgiving. I don't like Texas very much and turkey is all well and good, but it's getting to see my mom and dad and Catherine and Ben and Kelsey that is making my stomach do flips. And the thought of Charlie hugs, Rora jokes and Twin giggles. For Christmas I'll get to see Sarah, Devon, Spencer and James, and that's when James will get to see his favorite aunt again! And in December I'm going to New Mexico. I've never been there before, but that's not what I'm counting down the days 'til. It's getting to see Deon and Dillan and their boys, Conner and Scotty, and hear them say "Aunt Dizzy" (or "Dippy," whatever works). This weekend I didn't do much, but I did go to see "New Moon" with Anna. It was the best Friday night I've had in a long time. And yesterday I hung out with Thomas. When he said he was free to go take pictures with me, it, well, it felt good. I can't explain it. I love it when Gabe invites me to play Guitar Hero. We may be 12 years apart, but playing the Wii, we're equals. ;o) Well, until Brianna, Hayden, Tucker and Mason decide I'm the monster and tackle me.

I love my family. Big, loud, sarcastic, hungry, and they're all mine. That's what I get excited for now. Not for presents or Christmas music or chicken enchiladas, but seeing my family and knowing we've got each others' backs and we're together forever. Whether we like it or not. Luckily, I don't like it.

I love it.


See more pictures of my studly brother here.


"Everything makes sense when you're with me." --Relient K, "Savannah"

I've never been to Europe, but when I think about my future, I have this romanticized vision of living in  Europe. Or at least somewhere with a very European feel -- I guess just about anywhere but the cinder block apartment complex I live now. I don't know where this feeling has come from. Maybe too many Jane Austen movies, too many Michael Buble and Jamie Cullum albums, maybe too many years of dreaming and planning and so little doing. In my head there is a daydream playing on repeat, of white-washed walls and yellow dishes. Of corner markets and mom & pop shops. Of a journal full of more answers than of questions. Of not flying solo, but of having someone to share my laughter with, my dessert, my laundry detergent. This doesn't sound very European, does it? But maybe because both things are foreign to me, Europe and my future life, my mind has combined both together. And both are things I'd sure like to have.

So, Europe, I'll get there someday. And you, whoever you are, we're gonna share a really good life. Laundry detergent and all.


Yeah, I should hope it would ship for free.

[Something to ponder:]
"The length of a film should be directly related to the endurance of the human bladder."
  - Alfred Hitchcock


"Every single night for the past month, I wake up ... and I'm reaching out.

For what?

I don't know. 
It's right outside the door, around the corner. 
But it's comin'!"


OK, so I realize most of you don't like the same kind of music as I do, but I'll post this anyway.

A locally based on-line magazine, Rhombus, made a compilation of local musicians and is giving away free downloads of the eclectic sampling of Provo's indie-scene. So, check it out. Hey, it's free. And maybe you'll even like some of them.

I mean, I do.

Click here. Eh?


I was thinking today about going outside and taking pictures with my new camera. Then I thought I'd also like to listen to my new album, the soundtrack from "Away We Go." But, then I realized it'd be kind of a hassle to have ear buds in and the camera strap around my neck and all -- too much going on, you know? Then it occured to me, "I wish I could just have music playing without ear buds. Like, so that I just hear it as I walked around. Like using the speaker phone instead of holding it up to you ear." And then I thought, "Oh yeah. They have that. It's called speakers."

I took the seat next to the power outlet on Tuesday in my religion class. The kid that usually sits there walked in, saw me, and he started to pout. And it was a serious pout. His hands were hanging down, and he raised them slightly just so he could throw them down in a huff. Really, kid? There are other power outlets. I'd hate to see him when someone does something actually bad to him, like takes the last cookie from mommy's cookie jar. What a hard life he must lead.

So, my new camera came in the mail yesterday. I've been waiting a couple years to be able to afford it, so it's kind of a big deal. I pulled it out of the box, then out of the mesh wrapping, then out of the bubble wrap. I set it on my lap and just stared. "It's mine," I thought. "All mine. I get to keep it." It was like I'd given birth to it or something. So, future kids, just imagine how much more I'll love YOU. I mean, if I reverence a camera like it's the Holy Grail, my kids are gonna suffocate with all the love I have for them.

Today I took a test. After studying for over an hour (which, p.s., is a big deal. Usually I study for about 20 minutes for tests and come away with a 90% or better). And guess what I got on said test? A 78%. You'd think I'd cry or at least be fuming with a fiery fury (you like that alliteration?). But no. I just stared, a blank stare actually. I couldn't quite process the number. Really? A 78? Really? I think there's been a mistake. Or I'll make you make a mistake ... that didn't make sense.


ten things that make me happy.
[forgive me if i've said some of these before. my memory is failing me, as it usually does.]

1) the thought of being home in 12 days.
2) wind and autumn leaves and my hair all mixed together.
3) when my phone vibrates just when i was feeling all alone in the world.
4) flowers, bows and feathers for my hair.
5) fake mustaches.
6) spelling a hard word on the computer and no jagged, red line appearing underneath it.
7) sweatshirts. the kind with hoods.
8) mail. the good kind, not the junk kind.
9) watching 'Robin Hood' with my roommates.
10) the thought of 2010. i have a feeling i'm going to love that year.

11) playing board games via skype with my family.

[screen shot taken by ben of me playing the harmonica for them in between rounds of trivial pursuit]

[catherine was stumped apparently. crazy canadians.]


Today is the 40th anniversary of Sesame Street. These are two of my favorite videos. Which ones do you remember the most?

[i still sing this song in my head when anyone ever says "12." ;o)]


Once upon a time I went for a scooter ride. While driving through an intersection, a car attempted to turn left in front of me--as in, he was facing me, yielding on green, but decided he'd had enough yielding. Well, good thing my brakes work, or else I would've T-boned him and ended up looking like ground beef.

Then, later that day, I was out-and-about on my scooter and it was dark outside ... because it was nighttime. I noticed out of the corner of my eye a large object moving across the street toward me--as in, larger than a bread box. It was a biker trying to cross the street in front of me, maybe trying to make a left turn onto the side street. As I swerved around his idiocy, I yelled out, "Sorry!" and made a horrifically horrified face. "Wait a second," I thought, "I shouldn't be apologizing." He should be thanking me for showing him (without a fatality) what can happen to bikers who think they rule the road. Even a lowly scooter like mine could turn him into oatmeal.

I'm hungry.

words i dispise:
hubby (for "husband")
bestie (for "best friend")
pissed (ugly word)
aunt (said like "ont")
chick (for "a girl")

You know what's good? Knock-off brand Oreos and Creamery skim milk. It's so good, I had a dream about it last night.

Seriously, I'm so hungry.

p.s. 30 days until my birthday.


i discovered a sign on my forehead today. i've had a feeling it was there before, but today it was confirmed. it says, "boys: tell me your girl problems."

i don't mind it too awfully much, but you wouldn't think so many would heed a sign on a girl's forehead, a girl they hardly know. but they do. and they talk. and i listen. and we walk. and i wonder, how can i get rid of this sign and get another that says, "boys: ask me out. i'm awesome."



I was contemplating doing this to a pair of my jeans ... not sure what i was thinking. My hips don't need that kind of accentuating. ;o)

I think I've fallen in love. With Jimmy Smith. From "Thoroughly Modern Millie." By-jingo.

(Catherine! Remember when we used to speed up the record player and listen to this song? "Franks-Franks!" Ba ha ha ha!)

And I just discovered he also plays Mr. Salt (Veruka's father) in "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory." Ha ha. Well, I still think he's adorable in his younger days.