Poetry and musings of a zany Mormon girl who is very proud of her Erda roots.

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Wake Me Up When September Ends

I guess September ends tonight.

So many things have to end. Sometimes it feels premature at the time, but after a while, it's easy to see why endings are crucial. They make way for beginnings of a different sort.

Green Day
Wake Me Up When September Ends
Summer has come and passed
The innocent can never last
wake me up when September ends

like my father's come to pass
seven years has gone so fastwake me up when September ends

here comes the rain again
falling from the stars
drenched in my pain again
becoming who we are
as my memory rests
but never forgets what I lostwake me up when September ends

summer has come and passed
the innocent can never last
wake me up when September ends

ring out the bells again
like we did when spring began
wake me up when September ends

here comes the rain again
falling from the stars
drenched in my pain again
becoming who we are

as my memory rests
but never forgets what I lost
wake me up when September ends

Summer has come and passed
The innocent can never last
wake me up when September ends

like my father's come to pass
twenty years has gone so fast
wake me up when September ends
wake me up when September ends
wake me up when September ends

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Georgy Girl

This song was my favorite when I was about five years old. Which basically means that I would get ridiculously excited when it came on the radio (we usually listened to Oldies or NPR, so the chances of hearing it were good) and refuse to allow anyone to change the station.

(Words by Jim Dale and Music by Tom Springfield)

Hey there, Georgy girl
Swingin' down the street so fancy-free
Nobody you meet could ever see the loneliness there - inside you
Hey there, Georgy girl
Why do all the boys just pass you by?
Could it be you just don't try or is it the clothes you wear?

You're always window shopping but never stopping to buy
So shed those dowdy feathers and fly - a little bit

Hey there, Georgy girl
There's another Georgy deep inside
Bring out all the love you hide and, oh, what a change there'd be
The world would see a new Georgy girl

[Instrumental Interlude]

Hey there, Georgy girl
Dreamin'; of the someone you could be
Life is a reality, you can't always run away
Don't be so scared of changing and rearranging yourself
It's time for jumping down from the shelf - a little bit

Hey there, Georgy girl
There's another Georgy deep inside
Bring out all the love you hide and, oh, what a change there'd be
The world would see a new Georgy girl

(Hey there, Georgy girl)
Wake up, Georgy girl
(Hey there, Georgy girl)
Come on, Georgy girl


(Hey there, Georgy girl)
Wake up, Georgy girl

I liked the whistling.

As I got older, the song became more meaningful. I was a Georgy girl. I needed to do some vast rearranging, let go of my loneliness, and let the world see how much love I have to offer.


A few years ago I was doing one of my crazy "I must learn everything I possibly can about my latest obsession!!" phases and Georgy Girl was up to bat. After listening to the Seekers a billion and a half times I began my hunt for the film version of the story.

That weekend I went home to visit my family. My mother must have some pretty mad telepathy skills, let me tell you! When I arrived at home, she said, "You know that Georgy Girl song? You used to like it when you were little. Well, I ordered the film online and it just came today."


We all watched the film as a family and discussed the moral and social impact of choices. It is not a feel-good movie, despite the chipper main tune, but I think I'll keep it on my shelf.

Georgy Girl
Film Version

(Words by Jim Dale and Music by Tom Springfield)

Hey there, Georgy girl
Swingin' down the street so fancy-free
Nobody you meet could ever see the loneliness there - inside you
Hey there, Georgy girl
Look at all the boyfriends you don't get Why do all the boys just pass you by?
Never had a real one yet, just look at the clothes you wear

You're always window shopping but never stopping to buy
Just shed those dowdy feathers and fly - a little bit

Hey there, Georgy girl
Give yourself a treat, like most girls do

Get another hairstyle too and, oh, what a change there'd be
The world would see a new Georgy girl

[Instrumental Interlude]

Hey there, Georgy girl
Dreamin'; of the someone you could be
Life is a reality, you can't always run away
Don't be so scared of changing and rearranging yourself
It's time for jumping down from the shelf - a little bit

Hey there, Georgy girl
Give yourself a chance and you will see

Confidence is all you need, and, oh, what a change there'd be
The world would see a new Georgy girl

(Hey there, Georgy girl)
Wake up, Georgy girl
(Hey there, Georgy girl)
Come on, Georgy girl


(Hey there, Georgy girl)
Wake up, Georgy girl

So, guess what I did? I chopped most of my hair off so I couldn't hide anymore, bought some new clothes and accessories, and gained a ton of confidence by doing difficult things and living through the most stressful time of my life to date.

I thought I was ready to jump down from the shelf. Yet, I'm not so sure any more. Someday it will be time. I just don't think I'm quite there now.

Any other Georgy girls/guys out there? How did you know when it was time to jump?

Monday, September 27, 2010

Sloth Love

My second/third grade teacher, Mrs. K., was an amazing woman. She loved coffee, children, and the rain forest. Under her tutelage I learned about American Indians, how to survive a bear attack (play dead and let it eat you a little until it gets bored; do NOT climb up a tree because bears can climb too), and multiplication tables.

She was an amazing teacher who remains one of my very favorites. Probably because I was so often her "special helper" during my second year in her classroom. The school had wanted to move me into the Gifted program during third grade but I had so much anxiety over the prospect that I was granted special permission to remain with Mrs. K. because she taught combined grades.

In any case, Mrs. K. taught a section on the rain forest when I was in the second grade. She had been to the Amazon several times and was an expert! We learned about the Emergent Layer, Canopy, Under Storey, Shrub Layer, and Forest Floor. We also learned about the animals that occupy each unique layer and how they influence each other. Each child was assigned to choose an animal to research and share with the class. I wanted to study tree frogs because they are cute, but I got sloths instead.

And thus began my long-distance love affair with the sloth!

Years later, if ever the topic of sloths came up in conversation I would declare, "Oh, I just love sloths!" and leave it at that.

In fact, sloths remained my "favorite" exotic animal until the Giant Galapagos Tortoise came into the picture when I first studied Darwin and Evolution in School.

Oh, I just love Giant Galapagos Tortoises!

Last week I looked up sloths online.

They are freaky and weird.

Sloths are mammals with very slow metabolisms. It can take weeks for a sloth to digest a belly-full of leaves, which constitutes their main dietary food group. Mmmm, leaves. Essentially, they rely on gut flora to digest for them, so their stomachs are just compost bags attached on the inside. Everything about a sloth's anatomy and  physiology relates to their slow metabolism and therefore low energy stores.

Their main defense against predators is to not move at all. The sloth is aided in this attempt by the vast amounts of moss and other crud that grows onto their shaggy fur as natural camouflage. They are the antithesis of the adage: A rolling stone gathers no moss.

Constant lack of energy --> No movement --> Gathers vast amounts of moss, bugs, and whatever else that does not want a ride.

Apparently, baby sloths can die when they loose hold of mommy -- probably because they are too lazy to hold on -- and she is too lazy to go down to ground level to retrieve her young.


I still just love them!

Image from here.


This picture just about made me wet myself. Enjoy!

Sunday, September 26, 2010

Circa 2000

                                                          Life can really stink
                                         Like a hunk of mouldy cheese
                                                                                       When you think
                           You are on the brink
                                                       Of receiving something grand
But then you don't

 This poem comes to mind quite often. There's no real way to remember what the original thoughts behind this composition were. Somehow, it works.

Occationally hopes for how things "ought" to be are simply poorly thought out. For instance: I figured getting a job at the end of the summer would be a cake walk. As it turns out I am not unique in this hope. There are many with more need and better qualifications competing for the same positions.

If ever I needed patience and endurance; this is a great place to begin learning.

Saturday, September 25, 2010


Babies are awesome!

No, really. They make me go, "Awwwww!"

Hee hee!

Two of my best friends recently gave birth within a week of eachother. A little boy and a little girl. Both just as adorable as can be -- but what do you expect when both sets of parents are remarkably attractive people? Mark my words: those babies are going to grow up to be gorgeous adults. (And now, since this is the internet and therefore very easily catalogued, we are going to let this comment marinate for about 20 years and pull it up again at the appropriate time only to discover how true I am. Yay!)

I got to hold both of them this weekend! There is nothing quite as sweet as a very tiny baby falling asleep in your arms. I love being used as baby furniture: recliner, seat, swing, and bouncy chair. My body is the correct shape to accomodate babies in my arms, on my shoulders, and in my lap. They simply fit.

Ever since I was small, babies have adored me. It's true. In the grocery store I smile at infants and toddlers alike and they always smile back. It gets a little weird when the parents notice their kid staring at me and I have to try and look the other way really fast for fear that said parents will think I am a kidnapper or creep. I am not a creep. Or a kidnapper. I just love children and they love me back.

Early this year I was asked to be Nursery teacher at church. I worked with two other ladies to take care of all of the 18 months -- 3 year olds. It was a lot of fun and I love, love, loved working there every week. Unfortunately, I had to leave all summer so my position was filled by someone else. I recently substituted for one of the teachers and was surprised that most of the kids still remembered me.

One little girl came up to me, sat right down in my lap and said, "I like you!"

It was all I could do to keep my heart in place as it melted out of my chest!

"I like you, too!!" I replied, with the biggest smile on my face.

When it comes to small children I have a huge reserve of patience that has yet to be tapped. I'm sure that one day it will be spent, but for now, I choose to keep storing my odds and ends for them. How sweet are the little ones.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

ET's Mom and The Giddy Human Vampire Head-Nuzzler

I apologize for my terrible grammar and run-on sentances in this post. The poor writing will stand as a testament to how freaking weird this event was for me.


Last night I had a really . . . um . . . interesting dream.

It involved my dream-self waking up in bed while being prodded in the back by ET's mom's glowing finger. She's talking to me telepathically via glowing finger and needs a connection. That connection is my spine. Apparently ET was too young to connect with people telepathically via the glowing finger.

But his mom wasn't!

So, anyway, she's all chatty and keeps going on and on about how she's going to decorate or something and I'm like, "What is going on here?!" and she tells me about how the aliens have been communicating with the dolphin-penguins to decide if Earth would be a good place to cohabitate with the indigenous life forms. She looks really happy with her decision to make Earth he new home and oblivious to the fact that people live here too and people are a whole lot more crazy than dolphin-penguins. When I alert ET's mom to this fact she looks really confused; I was the first person she met. How she ended up waking me in my room to begin the conversation in the first place, I will never know.

That's when I start freaking out and telling her about war and how terrible people are to one another and how Earth is the least-friendly place in the galaxy and they should never, ever consider staying here because they would most certainly end up dead! I like the ET family, I don't want them floating in gigantic mason jars filled with formaldehyde fated to tour the USA in a side show run out of 1930's ford trucks behind a giant yellow circus tent!

Then her heart starts glowing and she puts her arms up and run/waddles out to the space ship. "Eeeeeeeeeeee!"

We never see the ET family again but I feel confident that I have protected the aliens from a terrible, terrible fate.

I miss ET's mom and wonder if maybe it would have been ok to let her be my neighbor. She was nice.

Next thing I know, I'm in a motor home trading the contents of my change purse and two new novels I had recently purchased at Barnes and Noble and could validate their origin in exchange for tickets to some event Noel really wanted to attend at the high school auditorium. A human Edward Cullen, who happened to be the high school quarterback, is behind the cash register. He gives me a good deal on a deluxe ticket which turns out to be the seat next to him. Edward nuzzles the back of my head and messes up my hair. Apparently this means that we are officially dating, even though I'm really not too jazzed by the prospect.  He squeals with delight because he gets to be my boyfriend and proceeds to parade me in front of the entire school.

I try to let Noel know that I can't sit with her as formerly planned. She is angry with me because she doesn't know anyone else in the auditorium and is all alone. I can't even talk to her about it because I'm being dragged up to the popular kid's section of the auditorium with the cushy seats by an overly-affectionate Edward.

I woke up very confused with a stomachache.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

First Day of Fall

Tonight is the Autumn Equinox!

As a nod to Fall I made butternut squash soup for dinner tonight. Somehow my family really liked it, so we may have it again -- only with bacon! or clams! or corn! It's quite a good substitute for potato based soups.

Mmmm, potatos butternut squash!

It feels like Fall. The mountains are changing colors, there's a bite to the air, the days are getting shorter, and Halloween candy is everywhere. Yay!
The old couplet: "Fall is for falling in love; Spring is for springing out" comes to mind during this season. Every year I look forward to something/someone new to fall for. I haven't quite decided what it ought to be this year. Perhaps I'll try a new approach and stop looking.

This is a season of celebration. Harvests are over; there is plenty to do in preparation for the future without looking for more work.

There is so much to be said for being happy with what has already been accomplished and learned.

Contentment without complacency.

I love this time of year because of the mild weather and festivities. I also love it because it is a time for both new beginnings and rest. School, sports seasons, television programming, and social events begin again in full force. They don't let up until Spring.

The earth takes a break and reclaims all the things that were fresh in the Spring to recycle for next year. Lessons and changes have the opportunity to settle in the Fall. A chance to seep into the ground, into our bones, into our souls. We won't really see these changes until they are challenged by the hot sun to test how deeply they hold.

Fall is for preparing, Winter for waiting, Spring for planting, Summer for determining.

The Iris
In the fall I planted you. It wasn’t so much that I did anything, really. The hole was already there, left vacant from something that had died. You simply fell in and the earth closed around you so I let you stay.

All winter I try to forget you. But, as soon as I succeed in pushing you from my mind and stop staring at the place where you rest – safe and protected from the gales I blow around myself – you’d disturb the ground and cause me to notice your existence once more.

The only thing I have left is to wait. I wait patiently for the spring to show me if you ever intended to live.

I would dearly love to see an iris in full bloom.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

A Trip Down Memory Lane: BYU

Things I miss about going to school at BYU:
1. Talking or doing Sudoku through the forums.
2. Meeting up with friends for lunch.
3. Meeting up with friends in between classes.
4. Meeting up with friends to go to the MOA.
5. Meeting up with friends between classes to go to lunch at the MOA!
6. Randomly finding people I know on campus and stopping to chat.
7. Organizing study parties.
8. Walking around like I own the place.
9. Listening to/watching performances on the steps of the Wilk.
10. Watching the looks on people's faces when I say something very loudly that I probably should have kept to myself because it may or may not cause offense to the tender-minded out there.

I got to do all of these things today! Well, except for that one...

A trip further down Memory Lane. Pay attention, children, there might be a quiz at the end!

1. Every Tuesday at 11.

2. Pretty much every day. Ashley, Noel, Holly, Robert, and I had a standing lunch date freshman year. Our lunches would typically include "studying" and last for hours on end. Mmm, butterscotch brownies!

3. Hahahaha! We called them study sessions, but you know what? I'm not convinced that anything was actually happening except that we were all falling in friend with each other. Hard core!

4. Hey, Amy, remember that time we were supposed to go to the MOA to see the Beholding Salvation exhibit but then I was certain that we were supposed to go to the library achieves and they didn't know what we were talking about but we got to see a real-live Rembrandt print of Christ teaching in the temple as a boy? Up close! With white gloves, velvet, and everything! That was so cool! Best mistake, ever!

5. Every Friday! Just be careful during the week to accrue a nice balance on the old Dining Plus card and viola! A lovely lunch at the MOA! Harvest turkey croissant? Yes, please!

6. I sort of felt guilty when my students would stop me and I could never remember their names...

7. Hahahaha! "Study" parties! Hahahahahaha!

8. Hey, Noel, Holly, Ashley, Suzanne, Valerie -- remember how we would run to 8am Inorganic Chem every morning? Yep, that was cool. We didn't look like freshmen at all.

9. Acoustic Explosion, Vocal Point, Noteworthy. . . Good stuff!

10. So this one time all of us girls were going to make dinner for the boys and then they were going to make dinner for us as a big group "date" that wasn't really a date because no one was actually paired up.

We girls couldn't decide on what to make. Someone suggested chicken marsala, but it contains wine and we didn't know where we would be able to cook chicken marsala -- for fear of being kicked out of BYU for a) having wine on campus and b) having wine on campus as 18 year old kids.

The fear was strong.

Plus, I hate wine in food! Blech!

Discussing the problems with this particular suggestion on campus was probably a no-no, but doing so while walking by the JSB right after a ton of religion classes were excused and shouting very loudly, "But where are we going to get the wine!!" is probably a very big no-no.

People actually stopped walking to stare at me.

I felt their judgment.

The judgment was strong.

So, I did the most logical thing I could think of in the moment: I ducked and ran.

What I wish I had done: Very loudly pronounce myself a lush and proceed to beg for change and a ride to the nearest State Liquor Store to purchase more vino. Because *that* would have gone over well.

This whole post was really just me wanting to share that last story.


I've said so many things on campus that made people look at me funny. Mostly about reproductive physiology, actually. I can't help that repro phys is awesome! Come on, people, let's grow some adult brains and accept that the human body is not inherently evil! Really!!

I apologize if this offends you, my dear non-reading public-who-probably-won't-care-even-if-you-are-in-fact-real-and-not-just-a-figment-of-my-arrogant-imagination.

In short: I had a great time tromping around campus with my friends.

I love my people in Provo!

Monday, September 20, 2010

Yep, Today IS a Monday!

1. My eyeballs are tired. You know, when the lids get all heavy and the orbs feel like dry corn cob nubs? Yeah, those are my eyes. Right. Now.

2. This is my 75th post! Huzzah!

3. I have a crazy Booh-bah staring at me from across the room. It makes farty noises when you activate its sensors.

Heh, heh.


4. I've accomplished about 75% of what I wanted today. Not bad. Good job, self!

5. The love child of Iron Man and Superman would be awesome. Nuf said.

6. Three legged pigs are lucky. Wait, what?

7. In Bali, babies are considered gods until they turn six months old. At which time, they are accepted into the human race via an elaborate ceremony. If a babe dies before that age, it's no big deal -- they were simply accepted back into the spirit world with the rest of the gods.

The baby is all like, "Yeah, thanks for the world tour and all, but I think I'll just sneak back..." *death!*

I like this veiw better than assuming that the baby is damned if it can't hack this cruel, cruel world. Poor baby!

8. No chickens disturbed me today.

9. I have had a picture frame for nearly years and have yet to manage printing off photosen to inhabit it's many portals of veiwing pleasure.

10. I've taken to saying the plural of "photo" as "photosen" in my head. It sounds more organic and biological and scientific. And just sort of weird, but that's just me.

Sunday, September 19, 2010

Don't Worry About It

I love those four words today. Don't worry about it. It's such a grounding statement.

It means “Don't think past this moment because the next moment will happen as it ought to happen and you cannot dictate it's coming to be any faster or slower than it will be.”

And, “Stop thinking of the past and the future – in fact, stop thinking all together, you are taken care of and you are in good hands.”

And, “Just focus on the fun stuff.”

And, “Live right now, where and when you are without stressing over things that you cannot control.”

Today was a good day.

I was happy and peaceful and overcome by gratitude at how awesome my life is -- today, in the here and now. I don't know what is going to happen tomorrow. I have a rough outline of what I would like to accomplish, but I really can't predict the future (that should be evident by now) so I'm satisfied with what I have planned.

Right now is a good right now.

Friday, September 17, 2010

Always A Woman

Billy, you just know how to say it and say it well! This is what I have aspired to for years. Have I managed to become this kind of woman? I can't say.

She can kill with a smile
She can wound with her eyes
She can ruin your faith with her casual lies
And she only reveals what she wants you to see
She hides like a child,
But she's always a woman to me

She can lead you to love
She can take you or leave you
She can ask for the truth
But she'll never believe you
And she'll take what you give her, as long as it's free
Yeah, she steals like a thief
But she's always a woman to me

Oh--she takes care of herself
She can wait if she wants
She's ahead of her time
Oh--and she never gives out
And she never gives in
She just changes her mind

And she'll promise you more
Than the Garden of Eden
Then she'll carelessly cut you
And laugh while you're bleedin'
But she'll bring out the best
And the worst you can be
Blame it all on yourself
Cause she's always a woman to me


Oh--she takes care of herself
She can wait if she wants
She's ahead of her time
Oh--and she never gives out
And she never gives in
She just changes her mind

She is frequently kind
And she's suddenly cruel
She can do as she pleases
She's nobody's fool
And she can't be convicted
She's earned her degree
And the most she will do
Is throw shadows at you
But she's always a woman to me


1997 was a big year in my life. One of those defining years; after which, no one can be the same.

Suffice it to say, during my tenth year I became emotionally withdrawn. I forgot how to smile. I forgot to acknowledge emotion much less communicate effectively what I was feeling. I didn't make much headway with this until I was 18 and didn't really figure it out until I was 22.

Because of this, I am a very tactless person. I simply can't see why someone else would be offended when I do or say something that ought to be obvious.

I've been working on that character flaw, but I fear my no-nonsense personality and divide-and-conquer approach to life's little circumstances doesn't leave much room for pussy-footing around issues.

I can remember one time when I was in grade school two of my friends had a crush on the same boy. He was in our class and this little rift between my friends was quite distracting. So, I took it into my own hands to fix the situation. I told the boy about how my friends were fighting over him and could he please talk to them both. The girls were mortified. They united for the first time in weeks in ostracizing me. I had betrayed them and was punished with the silent treatment. I cried a lot. I knew that I have behaved inappropriately. The thing is, the boy they were fighting over actually did talk to the girls and the little love triangle was resolved rather quickly. I felt as though my actions were, ultimately, correct; I had simply executed without finesse.

Another instance: this one took place when I was much older. One of my friends had been seeing a boy. After several dates and the exchange of personal favors, he told her that he actually wasn't interested in dating her. My close-knit group of friends and I discussed the situation and we were livid on behalf of our friend -- thinking that she had been wrongfully used. Many grand statements were made about what would happen to the boy if he chose to come within spitting distance. As it happened, we all saw him very soon after these fiery vows were made. I approached and delivered the rehearsed speech and turned receive support from my friends, only to discover that they had abandoned me during my passionate rant. When I spoke with the friend who had been "wronged" and found that she had parted amicably with the boy. She told me that she appreciated my sturdy friendship but would I, please, never interfere in that manner again. I was very embarrassed and promised to keep my mouth closed. I apologized to the boy the next time I saw him but was still supremely embarrassed for years after.

Then I think of an instance, recently, when I did things correctly. Working at EFY this summer we had a boy who soon became very well acquainted with the health counselors. Every day he had another complaint and his pain or discomfort could never really be qualified. By Thursday I was at my wit's end. I had no idea how to react to the boy much less help him. That's when his counselor approached me and told me of the wild stories he had been telling his group. I counseled with her and told her to believe him as far as she could, downplay his stories, and keep him in the group. I told her to love him. Then I called the boy's mother. Over a patchy connection we were able to communicate what the boy had been doing that week and how it related to his past. I discovered the truth behind his stories as well as the fantastic tales he told for attention and why he needed attention. It was as though a weight had been lifted from my shoulders. I finally understood how to react to this very interesting young man! I could sympathize. I understood. I knew how he needed to be treated and how to do so with the dignity and respect. I wanted to share my new-found freedom of understanding with everyone who had been affected by his needs and I wasted no time in tracking down the counselors who had been in contact with the boy. When more information was discovered concerning why this boy was behaving oddly, my heart swelled with further understanding and I was able to assess the situation more fully and in a more tender manner. I have never felt so in control of myself as when I was tenderly speaking with the boy and comprehending not only what he was saying but why he was saying certain things. I had become acquainted with charity in it's purest form. What a miracle! Tact wasn't merely something I had to practice in that situation; it was the only way. I cared too much to risk offense when I saw so clearly how to avoid embarrassment for my charge. I understood.

So, while I am still quite tactless, I do know that sympathy and empathy for another's plight will help me to behave appropriately. If I can make a personal connection and seek to understand the point of view held by another, I will not fail at caring for them in the most tender manner. The most amazing thing is that in order to understand a person I don't need them to understand me in return. But, what a miracle it would be to have mutual understanding with another. If that could happen, no feelings would ever be damaged.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Visiting Oceanside

Thanks Lucy and Glen. Love you both bunches and bunches!!

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Poem Time Warp

Jan. 16, 2008

Laying on the ground,
Watching the sun go by
Watching lovely things die
Laying on the ground
Watching the earth
Shift and spin
Will the world ever be
The same again?
Moments passing moments,
Creating new Atonements
To be sought
So start seeking
Learn to stop speaking
Or you’ll have more
Fights that can’t be won
So tired of being ignored
What is it that makes
People so bored
They have to ignore –
Ignore me again
Leave me alone
Pretend to be friends
And I’ll stab you in the back
Can’t take it back
I’m a viper in the sand
I’ll bite you
When you take my hand
As a friend
When do the lies –
Do the lies ever end?

Sadly, this one resonates with me right now. Expectations, no matter how limited, will always bring heartache. I've always had a hard time with feeling ignored. It's as though memory of me slips from the minds of those I am thinking of as soon as I leave their presence. Give me a slice of your time and I will give all I have to offer. Cease to spare a thought for me and my heart will break forever.

November 19, 2008

I slide into reality from a place that is not here.
The weight of my world is dearly felt by my tender shoulders, crooked with the effort of upholding.
I sigh with this tremendous load and fear that I will not be able to draw breath again as I am crushed from above.
But, I know that this, like all things, will have its end.
I will not always wear this yolk, although I will adopt others.
No amount of wishing or turning my eyes to the past will help the situation now.
I must press onward, keeping my face to the east – toward the rising sun and progress.
Each leg moves at an elephants pace, finding purchase in the uneven ground and allowing the other leg to do the same.
As I continue, this burden that I carry, that is part of me, slowly melts into my skin and becomes Me.
My whole being is infused with that which once oppressed me – making me stronger.
I dance with the realization that I am free.
Leaps, bounds, a series of spins, and I fly!
I turn my face to the east – toward the rising sun and progress.

This poem speaks the story of my life a dozen times over. I can never seem to do something according to the book, as it were; things always have to be so much harder for me because I am doing them. However, every time I am met with unconscionable hardship I am also given the tools to overcome and grow. My soul has been washed with gravel. My heart; spat on with acid. And yet, I turn to my Savior still and find that I am capable of rising to the occasion -- of flying into the future with the blindingly brilliant sun in my eyes.

December 16, 2008

One day I will awake
To a life I did not plan
And on that day I will break
Free from my own demands
To live apart from inhibitions
And sip the honey wine of freedom
Making only my own decisions
The queen of my own kingdom

And if by chance my peace is lost
My castle walls encroached upon
I shall welcome sadly the weary cost
Of living with certainty all but gone
I will live and love, accept my fate
Farewell to all I am and know
Embracing, completely, my future's weight

Sometimes, there is nothing that can be done. No amount of effort or ambition or purpose can change the outcome of events set in motion before the hand of man encroached. Sometimes acceptance is what takes courage.

September 26, 2008
The Following were all written the same day. I dedicate the last to my cat, Annie.

A stolen heart, a world apart she creeps in search of sanctity
Each night she searches for her soul; mornings dawn with misery
Most unworthy was her love who did not love at all
The heights of heaven cannot be reached; without a heart she falls
And moaning, groaning through the night we hear her distant plea
“Come back, my love, come back and bring, my shattered heart to me.”

Happy puppy with no skin, he prances, dances, scaring men
And women too, but he does not scare me
For I am his friendly, flaky flea!

Zombie cat your face is cracked and oozing forth with pus
Thin and mangy to extreme, to keep you is no fuss
You want a rub behind your ears but my hand finds day-old scab
For you were not a kitten born, but produced within a lab

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Love Language

Today I drove in Southern California traffic today to take my sister to a doctor's appointment.

As I drove, it occurred to me that I have spent a considerable amount of time in the past nursing my family. I've done everything from cleaning scrapes and cuts to cleaning up after flu victims to helping with broken bones and post surgery care.

When I was fourteen my mom had major back surgery. She had a 53 degree curve in her spine caused by years of scoliosis. She not only received titanium rods and screws but one of her ribs was sacrificed as the base for bone grafts in her lumbar vertebrae. She received several quarts of blood during surgery and had a heart arrhythmia on the table. After a time in the hospital, we got to take mom home to recover.

Days were long and very difficult. It took half the morning just to get up for the day and then she wanted to go back to sleep.

Mom needed help with most things those first few weeks and I was the one to help her. I assisted her when she needed to stand up or sit down, cleaned her scars to help them heal correctly, and kept her company.

I also helped run the household.

We had dinners provided for a while and the family budget was managed by my older sister. I helped with the grocery shopping and food prep at home for the other meals. We were given so much pizza and lasagna that summer.

A day in my life that summer looked something like this:

Wake up at 7am. Lay out Dad's clothes and breakfast. Make sure everyone else got breakfast if they wanted some. Start on the laundry. Hang the laundry on the line because the dryer was broken. Repeat, repeat, repeat. Help mom get up and ready for the day. Help mom sit in her chair. Send the little kids outside to play so that mom could have some quiet and so I could keep the house somewhat clean. Make lunch. Spend the afternoon doing laundry, cleaning, taking care of someone, reading or playing Krondor on the computer. Go to bed at 10pm and start all over in the morning.

That was the first year we had Lagoon season passports and we used them frequently. One time Lorri and I loaded up the kids and the laundry in the van, dropped the kiddos off at Lagoon and spent several hours at a laundry mat. It was wonderful! Several loads at once, plus the dryers worked! Well, better than our broken dryer.

I loved it.

I felt like I had a purpose all day, every day. Sometimes I didn't love it as much as other times, but overall I think it was one of my very most productive summers.

Medicine; taking care of people, is in my blood. It's a divine calling that I feel drawn to. I cannot deny it and whatever obstacles present themselves I try my very hardest to overcome. The best I can do is to try.

This summer I met a man who looked me in the eye and told me that one of my gifts is that of nurturing. I laughed it off, saying that anyone who knew me would be able to see that. I was reminded that he had only known me for 20 minutes. It was as though the breath had been drawn out of my lungs. My brain paused as I considered this observation. It is true. No, it is True, with a capital T. Nurturing is my love language. If I boss or prod or ask a million questions and try to help fix things for you or simply ask if you have been eating enough leafy greens -- it means that I love you in some way. I'm not trying to be annoying, that's just how it sounds at first.

I once told a friend that I can't date boys younger than me because I automatically go into mothering mode and try to boss them around -- even if I'm only a few weeks older. I now realize how absurd that comment was: I will "mother" everyone I meet. It is very easy for me to love.

Monday, September 13, 2010

Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight...

I wish I may, I wish I might
Have this wish I wish tonight

I'll even let you pick which one.

I wish that I could make myself grow or shrink on demand.
I wish that I had the power to feed the world.
I wish that grasshoppers turned into those rubber poppers and then back into grasshoppers each time they hopped. That way, you would be able to see a brightly colored hemisphere coming right at you before the grasshopper landed and made you scream.
I wish that we had neighborhoods at the bottom of the ocean and had to take a submarine to get home. Or on the moon and had to take a rocket to get home. That would be cool too.
I wish that I could spend a night in a giant kangaroo's pouch and listen to it's heartbeat in the fuzzy darkness. It could be like a traveling hotel.
I wish that I could understand what people really mean when they speak.
I wish that I could see into people's bodies to figure out what makes them unhealthy at the molecular level and be able to fix it by ordering the molecules to sort themselves out. I think that's sort of how Jesus healed people. Knowledge is power.
I wish I could see into the future just one year so I can know how best to prepare.
I wish that I had more confidence in social situations. I always seem to fall back on my wallflower tendencies with zero ability to make small talk.
I wish I could hear back from a job.
I wish that I had no regrets.
I wish that I could take back all of those wishes I wished as a child. They were always exactly the same. I wish I hadn't wasted them on something I knew wouldn't happen.
I wish that I could meet my children before they are born. I just want to see their faces.
I wish that I could understand.
I wish that life could be a musical for 24 hours. Of course, it would feel like only 120 minutes because musicals are not very long and a ton happens in each five minute song, but still.
I wish that I had the disposable time and resources to accomplish all of my dreams. They are many and varied.
I wish that Erda had a fifth ward. And that I would get to name it. I'd pick something much better than the fourth ward's name.
I wish that I could go to the state fair and ride the ferris wheel and see the whole town lit up.
I wish that I could whistle. I really stink at whistling.
I wish that I could fly.
I wish that I could dictate my dreams. Wow, that would be amazing.
I wish that I understood chemistry.
I wish that I could rewind time and start college at the level of social and personal development that I am right now. Wow, I'd be unstoppable.
I wish that I could intern with Indiana Jones. I'm not afraid of snakes.
I wish that I could spend a year studying fairy tales and have the resources to find the literal stories behind each one. That would, of course, involve time travel.
I wish that I could read each book in the world at least once. Actually, some are best left untouched. I wish that I could read every good book int he world at least once.
I wish that I could be faithful enough to see a vision and understand it's meaning.
I wish that there were a pill for knowledge. No more studying!
I wish that I could open a door into a fantasy land I'd created for myself as an occasional escape.
I wish that I could provide meaningful service every day to someone who really, really needed it.
I wish that brownies really did make your troubles go away. I'd make so many brownies! I'd share them with homeless people and single moms.
I wish that I could find a wrecktastic cake to submit to Cake Wrecks and then get mentioned on the website.
I wish that I had some reason to write a best selling book.
I wish that I could trust people better.
I wish that I could accomplish at least one meaningful wish every day.
I wish that I could make someone else happy each day.
I wish that mermaids were real.
I wish that I could go to Italy. I've always wanted to learn Italian and eat real pasta after attending the opera.
I wish that I could write a hit song.
I wish that I could banish feelings of being taken for granted. I really struggle with that one.
I wish that I could find time to speak my mind, my real mind, and be heard. I wish I knew what I would say in such an instance.
I wish that countries didn't have borders and travel were free from one place to another according to where you most fit in and would love to be. I wish that people didn't kill each other for power. I wish that I could comprehend the human condition. I wish that I could help bring peace to this broken world.
I wish that I could meet an alien.
I wish that I knew my real name. I've never felt like my name is really mine. My true name is in a language I've never heard before. Sometimes it takes me a second to remember what my name is so that I can tell someone if they ask. I know it's weird, but that's how it's always been.
I wish that I could submit a photo to the state fair and win something.
I wish I could just win something. I never do.
I wish that all children could go to school.
I wish that people never have to eat from the garbage of others. Ever again.
I wish that my heart had the capability to love everyone in the world. What a magnificent thing that would be.
I wish that I could still my mind and hold my heart in my hands to give it away.
I wish I could accept the advice of those who love me.
I wish I could accept the advice I have given to those I love.
I wish that wishes really were fishes. Then I would never have to worry about what to make for dinner.
I wish I knew how to fix myself.
I wish I could just make up my mind already.
I wish that I never had reason to break my own heart.
I wish that children would be more kind to one another.
I wish that I knew how to waltz and ballroom dance.
I wish I could sing.
I wish I could play the violin. As opposed to simply pretending to know how to play.
I wish that I could figure all of this out.

Sunday, September 12, 2010



And I will walk with you,
using the stars as guides.
On a homeward path we go
Knowing our time is nigh

I, and I will walk to be with you.
All I've done,
to be with you...

So put your hand in mine,
and lay your head to rest.
We'll light the candles now - they won't be lit for long
we'll know our day was blessed

I, and I will walk to be with you.
All I've done, all I've done
Just to be with you...
I, I,

And I will walk with you,
Using the stars as guides
on a homeward path we go,
knowin' our time is nigh

I, I will walk to be with you.
All I've done,
and all I say
I, I,
To be with you,
to be with you,
to be with you,

Sally Girl

In 1993, when I was six years old, The Nightmare Before Christmas came out.

That year Halloween fell on a Sunday.

My parents didn't want us going trick-or-treating on Sunday night so they took us around town to the different grocery stores and other establishments hosting Halloween events where we collected a good amount of candy and Hardee's coupons. Mmmmm, Hardee's. After feasting on free curly fries and feeling like champs we were treated to a movie at the big theatre!

I fell in love with Tim Burton that night. My sister fell in love with Danny Elfman.

The animation, cinematography, and overall theme of the film resonated with me. Perhaps it's because I'm slightly mad and very weird myself. Maybe it was the Halloween fever. Or the idea of merging two amazing holidays and ensuing creepiness. And perhaps I knew at six years old that I am a Sally girl myself: A bit broken, but capable and constant.

Once I make up my mind to do something I put my whole self into it and never give up; even as I tear myself up. It's an annoying habit.

Since then, I have fallen for Edward Scissorhands, Big Fish, Mars Attacks, Frankenweenie, Batman Returns, Batman Forever, Beetlejuice, James and the Giant Peach, Corpse Bride, Alice in Wonderland, and of course -- Vincent Malloy!

When Lorri brought home a collection of Tim Burton's poetry, I fell for that too.

As a Junior in high school I memorized Voodoo Girl to recite in the presentation of my Unrequited Love Poem Anthology.

Sometimes I doodle Tim Burton style. I can make a decently creepy doodle.

It simply appeals to me.

Of course, there's also the the other side -- the part of me that bakes a great berry pie, sews, crafts, and likes lace and roses.

I really am a rag doll patched from bits and pieces to make an odd whole.

Saturday, September 11, 2010


I always dream about people I know or will know.

Some of my best friends were met in dreams before I knew them in real life.

Dreams and deja vu. They go hand in hand. I will dream something and months later it will happen. Right down to sounds, smells, textures, and things that I say. Of course, in my dreams there is always something else going on and the scene that comes up later in real life just gets thrown in the mix. I can't see the friend's face until I actually meet them, but deja vu flashes I know that they were the one in the dream.

There is no saying how often this has happened; it changes based on what is happening my life. Sometimes I get it every day for four days. Sometimes I don't have it for several months.

My siblings were always annoyed with my declarations of "Deja vu!" so I stopped vocalizing when it happened.

I've always been amazed at this sneak peak into my future. Why does it happen? How does it happen? What does it mean?

A younger me liked to declare that I would marry whoever could unfold these mysteries. Because a man who knew something like that would know a lot about everything, right?

Now, I prefer to accept my mother's answer from when I was about six: It's just a little reassurance that my life is on track and I am doing what I ought to do.

I love the thrill that accompanies recognizing one of these episodes.

A few weeks have passed since the last time my dream literally came true. Hopefully it was a good omen.

The last two nights have brought interesting dreams. Perhaps tonight can make the third in row. Or perhaps they are deja vu in the making. I will accept either choice. Or both. But I'd hate to be greedy. :)

Friday, September 10, 2010

That Place Between Sleep and Awake

Today I went to Wendover with my mom. She took me on a tour of the town: Post office. High School. Corner Store. The house where we lived when I was two or three.

My first memories took place in that front lawn. The grass was brown and shrubs were scratchy. I chased my little cat, Blacky, around the yard and she waited for me to nearly catch her before setting off again. Dad made a pool in the back yard. We sang Joy School songs and played with Lorri's Glo Worm in the closet with the door closed. Frank and Lorri laughed at me when I cried because a huge beetle crawled all the way up my arm. I would shout at the neighbor's German Shepard's if they barked too much. Frank would hog his Big Bird trike and refuse to allow me a turn. We would sing Popcorn Popping for FHE.

I had no idea how small the town was because I was quite small myself.

On the way out of town I thought of Adam. He went the same route, I suppose. Only, he was in the back of an ambulance and his death had already been pronounced.

Mom and I talked about him a little. What kind of person would he be if he were around now? I think mom had it right when she said that he would either have been really good or really bad because Adam was an all or nothing kind of person.

Who can really say, though. Is eleven years really long enough to map a person's character?

He wanted so badly to be good.

Adam was my baby. When mom couldn't figure out how to make him stop crying -- I could. When he needed or wanted anything -- I gave it to him. When he would get into a passion and start hurting himself or others -- I found out that he just needed to be held for a while.

But, the thing is, when Adam died he healed our family.

We all had to hold on tight to one another in attempt to knit together the gaping hole caused by missing Adam. We became each other's comforters. We learned to feel the Spirit.

It was hard to laugh for months afterwards because it felt like I was betraying my grief. It was hard to smile, think happy thoughts, and dream.

I've dreamed of Adam several times since his death.

These dreams have always left me with peace. I never want to wake up when I dream that I'm holding him again. I can't help but love him still. He was my baby.

The first time I saw the 2003 live-action Peter Pan was the fall after Adam died. I bawled for two hours after that. He is my Boy who will never grow up. Fated to ride the winds of 100 summers and never become a man.

Each year around spring cleaning he can take me away to Never-never land to be his mother. As time goes by and I grow older, he shows up less frequently and will one day be shocked to see that I am very old.

Only, the magic will then be that I really can follow him into the light.

Thursday, September 9, 2010


I haven't been able to get much done today.

I'm too crazy for productivity.

Let's try to calm down before this evening, shall we?

I just keep running around in circles. Hoping for something to happen to get me going but not knowing what that something could possibly be.

I think I'm hungry or something.

I think I really need to get busy and just work through it all.

I'm being followed by a moon shadow
moon shadow-moon shadow
leaping and hopping on a moon shadow
moon shadow-moon shadow
and if I ever lose my hands
lose my plough, lose my land
oh, if I ever lose my hands
oh, well...
I won’t have to work no more
and if I ever lose my eyes
If my colours all run dry
yes, if I ever lose my eyes
oh well …
I won't have to cry no more.
yes, I'm being followed by a moon shadow
moon shadow - moon shadow
leaping and hopping on a moon shadow
moon shadow - moon shadow
and if I ever lose my legs
I won't moan and I won't beg
oh if I ever lose my legs
oh well...
I won't have to walk no more
And if I ever lose my mouth
all my teeth, north and south
yes, if I ever lose my mouth
oh well...
I won't have to talk...
Did it take long to find me
I ask the faithful light
Ooh did it take long to find me
And are you going to stay the night
I'm being followed by a moon shadow
moon shadow - moon shadow
leaping and hopping on a moon shadow
moon shadow - moon shadow
moon shadow - moon shadow
moon shadow - moon shadow

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

100 Round the Bends

My first interview: complete.

Hopefully I will get a secondary interview and maybe even the job.

That would mean moving up to Logan in the hight of its Autumn glory!

In looking for apartments today I found a darling little room in a darling little house in a darling little neighborhood. The street is lined by deciduous trees that will soon tune gorgeous colors and fall in crunchy heaps! Yep. I like the little room. I've already mentally moved in, so I'd better get the job or else I'll have to mentally pay rent on someplace where I don't really live.

The last question my interviewers posed was, "Why do you want to relocate to Logan?"

I thought about it for only a moment before answering:

"I fell in love with the valley when I rounded the bend and descended from the canyon for the first time back in June. Plus, I'm 23 and want to live on my own."

I think those reasons are good enough.

Y'all keep your fingers crossed for me and I'd keep you posted. That's a promise.

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

I gots me some issues!

Today I went in for a HIDA scan.

Basically, radioactive isotopes were injected into my vein and made their way into my liver, gallbladder, and duodenum where they reacted with the bile to send out a signal detected by a machine similar to a x-ray scanner.

I had to lay for 40 minutes under this machine as images were taken every minute to gauge how my gallbladder was looking and to rule out blockage of the bile ducts.

After the initial scan, a tube of chemicals was slowly injected into my IV. These chemicals induced cramping of the gallbladder similar to what any person will experience after a meal. Only worse. The technicians warned me of discomfort and checked on me often, offering cold towels and sympathy. And it was uncomfortable; think stomach cramps when something you ate was off a little. But I've been through so much worse that I figured it just hadn't ramped up enough and kept waiting for the real discomfort to begin so I could yell for that cold towel to put on the back of my neck.

After another 40 minutes of laying very still and watching a little screen featuring my gallbladder bright as a Christmas tree and bile levels in my duodenum fluctuate it was all over.

Sitting up from the exam table I expressed to the tech that my only worry was that they wouldn't find anything and I would be pronounced "normal" once again.

He just smiled and told me to wait two days for results.

As it turns out, I've only had to wait less than half a day.

My gallbladder is not emptying correctly. If I did not treat this ailment, I would be looking at years of discomfort and eventual gallstones.


I've got an appointment with a surgeon to talk about flinging my malfunctioning gallbladder right out the window. That will show my organs who's boss!

Monday, September 6, 2010

Always on my mind.

My mind is curiously blank.
I sit with open anticipation of thought but those thoughts are thwarted; nipped in the bud as it were, by the candy coating of impossible possibilities for the future.
Patience was never a strong point for me. But I knew several things when I was 18 and one of those is that patience must become a strong point. Or else I will die of boredom.
I'm only ever bored when I'm waiting for something to happen.
Have I ever expressed how much I love oldies music? Well, I do. Exactly the kind of stuff that parents in the 50's and 60's forbade their children from listening to because it would tempt them into doing immoral things. Oohers! Except, for the most part, the songs are sweet and gentle. The tunes are exciting and fun to simply listen to but can also be dance music.
Sometimes all I want in the world is to hear Buddy Holly hiccup. I have simple needs.

Some day I will make creme brulee.
Everyday I try to excite a little love affair with food. I figure, if I can turn mundane food items into something spectacular then I will have earned my bread that day.
I love bread. Mmmmmm.
Fall is the very best season. These days, I wake up with joy to find the air more crisp and delicious, the days a little shorter, and pumpkin season a little closer. Yay for cinnamon!
I love movies. My favorite genres include musicals, suspense , and sports films. I also love spoiling a good book by watching the movie adaptation first. Mostly because if I read the book first I'm always disappointed by the movie. And I like movies.
I love to travel. I feel powerful tromping around the big airports and running to catch a flight.
History is a big draw for me too. Learning why each place in the world is unique and wonderful is a favorite past time. I used to pour over history books, piecing together in my mind how technology and fashion and social upheaval moulded the world into this place where I now reside. Fantastic.
My pinkies are shorter than most people's. They don't reach the the most distal joint of my ring fingers. But, my fingers are uncommonly long, so maybe my pinkies are normal sized and the rest of the digits are the abnormalities. We will never know...
I nearly submitted a picture to the state fair. I didn't know which one to submit and I didn't think of doing it all until too late anyway. Ah well, there's always next year. Right?
I hate overhead lighting in my room. Lamps. All the way.
I'm picky about my bedsheets. I would rather spend $50-$70 on 450 thread count (on sale) than purchase those crusty cheap things from Wal-Mart. Any day. That's just how it is.
My fingers are cold and my lips are all swollen. I think I've thought enough for today.