Tag, I'm It?

Not a big fan of the tag, I'm not gonna lie. I've always hated tag: the running, the touching, the running, the running, oh yeah, did I mention the RUNNING? I remember getting so tired when I was a kid, and just wanting to stop for one second, but then some little butt-head who had inhuman amounts of energy would smack me on the back, and BANG! I'm IT.

There was abnormal fear in Kid-dom of being "IT." You never wanted to be IT. In fact, you would all put your foot in a circle and chant some sort of rhyme having to do with dirty-dirty-dish-rags and hope desperately that your friend's finger would land on the top of your grass-stained tennis shoe and say "You are not it!" YES! In fact, we would all go to great lengths to proclaim "Not It," at the top of your lungs, hoping that you were the first for this proclamation, so you could run from the would-be IT. If I had been smarter, I would have volunteered to be IT and walked home to end the stupid game (just a side note, isn't it interesting that we never wanted to be IT when we were children, but we all thought we were the sh-IT when we were teenagers? Sorry for the profanity). At any rate, since the abnormal fear of being IT has been dyed into the very wool of my life, I was not excited to to be blog "tagged" by my lovely cousin, Cali, who I am guessing, was an avid tag-player. But come to find out, being IT in this game means I can sit back and write about myself! Two of my favorite past-times--writing, and talking about myself. So let's begin.

1. I have read The Anne of Green Gables Series (books 1-8) a total of 9 times. I was so into Anne of Green Gables when I was younger that I almost believed that Anne and Gilbert were real. I remember walking into a little trinket shop and seeing some sort of figurine and thinking, "Anne would just love that." And then I remembered that Anne was not real, and even if she were, she was living in Canada and there was no way I could ever get the address to Ingleside, where she ended up living with her six children, until Walter died in WWI. I am hoping for the day when Jeopardy has a special "All Anne" episode. I would be the Ken Jennings of Green Gables trivia. WARNING: The last movie in the Anne of Green Gables series called Anne of Green Gables: The Continuing Story is pure blasphemy and a slap in L.M. Montgomery's face. Thank you.

2. I take 30-45 minutes to peel and eat an orange. I know, I know. Crazy, so they tell me. First, I remove the orange part of the peel, that takes like two minutes, and the remaining 28-43 minutes consists of removing as much of the yucky yellow stuff (that happens to contain all the vitamins) as humanly possible. Joe seems to think it's one of those quirks that makes me irresistible...yet another reason I am glad that Joe wasn't a heavy dater before we met.

3. I want to get a Master's degree in Creative Writing. The reasons for this are three fold: one, because I have always wanted to get a Master's; two, I am mortally afraid of a Master's Thesis, and I figure I won't have to write a true thesis in Creative Writing...just something like a novel or a collection of short stories--something that requires little to no research and documentation; three, believe it or not, I really like to write (something I bet no one could know, based on the length of my customary blog), and I like to teach Creative Writing. Why not be in Creative Writing classes myself?

4. Once my sisters stopped going to Girl's Camp, I became the Girl's Camp Belching Champion three years running. It's not something I SHOULD be proud of, but yet I am. Poor Joe. Two weeks after we were married, I was standing in the kitchen doing something, and Joe was watching T.V. Suddenly, I opened my mouth, and out it came, a Champion-sized belch. He looked at me like he had just seen Big Foot. "Oops," I said, "didn't I tell you about that?" Joe answered with a resounding "No!" "Oh. Well, you're stuck now."

5. I once was the coordinator of the Almost Miss Lehi Pageant. The Almost Miss Lehi Pageant came about because my friends and I were upset that there was no "spoof" pageant for women. So we created one. The idea was that Almost Miss Lehi would go on to compete in the Nearly Miss Utah pageant, and if she won that, she would go on to compete in the Not Quite Miss America pageant. The requirement was that each contestant needed to have a platform, a talent, and give five minutes of community service. The first pageant involved me and three other friends, and was attended by five people. Almost Miss Lehi was decided by a very heated game of Paper, Rock, Scissors. Platforms ranged from "Better Homes for the Homeless" to "Promote World Peace: Give the World a Puppy." Talents ranged from roller-skating hoola hooping to interpretive dancing. We only had two competitions, but with pride I report the second and final year of the pageant, we had over twenty people attend the Almost Miss Lehi Festivities, and I was actually approached by someone who wanted to take it public and charge for the show. We were almost included in the Lehi Roundup Parade, too.

6. I love singing. And I think I'm pretty good at it, and if showers could talk mine would concur. Some of my favorite songs to sing are "You Were Meant for Me" by Jewel, "Stay" by Lisa Loeb, "So Far Away" by Carole King, "Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow" by Carole King," "Natural Woman" by Carole King, and "Gravity" by Sara Bareilles.

Well, since I don't like telling people to be IT, I will volunteer and walk home, ending the game.

Tears for Turkey

I have a little bone to pick with this media-crazed society. The other night I was driving, and it was dark, and it just wasn't the time for my regular 101.9 The End radio station. I felt I needed something more mellow, more...soft rock of the 70s. I have a soft spot for Bread, Airsupply, Journey (sometimes the only thing for a late-night drive is to belt out at the top of your lungs "And so I co-o-ome to you with o-ohoh-pen arms!"), REO Speedwagon, and possibly my favorite soft 70s rock song, "I'd Really Love to See You Tonight" by Dan England and John Ford Coley. I don't know why. Dark drives make me feel that way. Maybe it's because I feel the night brings a different kind of mood, a somber one, maybe because that's when we go home and cozy up with a Pendleton blanket (Pendleton's are the best when you are cold) with the heating dish on (because I don't have a fireplace) and a great big heaping mug of hot chocolate (Stephen's is the best) with enough marshmallows on the top to keep you tide over until you can reach the actual liquid underneath and the bottom mallows are all melty and wonderful. Well, when you can't have that, and you're driving by yourself, you want to recreate that cozy feeling and the only thing that could create that fireplace experience is listening to a really cheesy song with a guy singing that never fully made it out of puberty. And I was really looking forward to this on my lone night drive to Target.

So I did anything every sensible light rock listener would do--I turned it to 100.3 for my favorite segment, "Love Songs After Dark." But instead of finding my favorite tune, "There's a warm wind blowing/the stars are out/and I'd really love to see you tonight," instead I heard, "Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens..." AUUUGH! This isn't my cheesy 70s rock! This is really BAD Christmas music (which, for the life of me, I can't figure out why this whiskers on kittens song is a Christmas song. It came from a movie about a nun and Nazis! Where's the Christmas in that?).

This is where my bone-picking begins. As of today, it is 8 days away from THANKSGIVING! The day where you give thanks! And eat turkey! And lots and lots of pie and yams! This is NOT the time for yultiede gaity, damnit! Then, I got to Target, without my fill of Chicago's Love Anthems, and I walked to the back, and guess what, IT'S ALL CHRISTMAS!

I want to know this: where is the love? When did it become okay to skip over the whole Indians-helping-the-Pilgrims-survive-Holiday (although I am sure most Native Americans today are not so hot on the idea of celebrating the beginning of their downfall. I bet there are more curses on Squanto than we white-eyes really know about. Ten bucks says they think "Shoulda let them starve," every time they leave the Res.). I want to know why Thanksgiving is always so overlooked. Granted, it's not glamorous with all the sparkle and tinsel and elves of Christmas. It's not fun with all the costumes and blood of Halloween. But it is probably the most important holiday that we have, even its placement, squashed between candy-grubbing Halloween and present-grubbing Christmas, has important value. Thanksgiving to me is like a comma--just a breath, a short break in a very long-winded sentence--where you can sit down from your few days of baking, eat some really delicious food for about 20 minutes before you have to be up an running again to do the dishes.

Thanksgiving dinner is that break for all of us to stop and rest, and BREATHE after the craziness of Halloween ends and the craziness of Christmas begins. And we all talk about how we need a break, yet here we are, a break actually BUILT IN for us, even if it is only 20 minutes, and what do we do? We skip right over it, and only look forward to the day for the great shopping that takes place the Friday after. Breathe people! Breathe! And then think about all of the blessing we have--we're warm, most of us have cars, we have a lot of clothes, some of us some really cute ones, and we all complain about how fat we are (myself included) when some people don't have any food at all. Just...I don't know. Breathe. Notice Thanksgiving, and actually give thanks that Squanto didn't scalp those pilgrims so that we could be here in America today.
Anyway, this is my little Thanksgiving rant. It was long too. Sorry. But take a moment in the next 8 days or so, to breathe a little and slow down before jumping into the fray of Christmas.