I'm Glad I'm Alive

So lately I have been using the blog to do a lot of complaining. Really, who wants to read that? So I thought I would write a post that talks about all the wonderful things in my life so you don't all think that I am a big cynic. And because, for some reason, I have been thinking in lists.

8) My family. I have two older sisters who have traveled a very long, very treacherous road at times, but they are here, they are alive, and they have beautiful families that they are doing their best to raise the right way. They might have fallen at times, but I wouldn't have made the good choices I did if they hadn't gone before me. Also, I have the most random younger brother. His sense of humor is truly one of a kind. Once a month, my mom and dad have a family home evening on Sunday, and it is always very loud--jokes, laughter, and little kids. The picture here was taken 2 years ago June. I am missing (I was taking the picture) as is my brother (he was on his mission--he's been home for about 9 months now) and Elise (my other niece, belonging to Nat and Joseph, was a zygote at the time). (People in the picture: Back: Joe, [of course, belonging to me]. 2nd row, left to right: Joseph the brother-in-law [belonging to Natalee], Pete the dad, Yarley the older sister. Front row, left to right: Tim the other brother-in-law [belonging to Yarley], Suzanne the mom, Taylor the niece [belonging to Yarley and Tim], and Natalee the oldest sister).

7) My job. I know I complain a lot about my job, but the reality is I really like being in front of the classroom, and I like it when students stay after to talk to me, whether it's to get advice about boys, or if it's to ask me what I'm doing this weekend.

6) My mother-in-law. Granted, we're not the best of friends, but I can never forget that she raised the man I love, and he is one of the best men I know. She had to have had a hand in that.

5) Rainy days. I know most people like the sunshine, but for some reason I love it when it rains, as long as it takes place in the spring. Rain bring so many wonderful things: puddles to splash in, cool breezes, spectacular lightning shows, nutrition to grass and flowers, and who can forget rainbows.

4) Talents. Especially the talents I don't have. When other people do things better than I do, I am so glad because if I tried it, I would be a dismal failure. For example, Joe has a talent of immediately making people feel comfortable. I, on the other hand, am followed around constantly by awkward silences. My dad is a wonderful artist, while my stick people look truly disturbing. I love it when we can help each other out.

3) Literature. Granted, I am an English teacher, but without literature, the human race would lose all its history. Think about it, there would be no literary devices like symbolism, or metaphor, or hyperbole, or poetry. Any one who does not think these things are important obviously hasn't read the scriptures, which in all actuality read like literature: Isaiah with his symbolism, Nephi with his poetry (several instances of chiasthmus--not to mention his free verse lament in 2nd Nephi--Walt Whitman can't hold a candle to him), and Christ with his metaphors (ever heard of a parable?) They teach, they inspire, and even if you can't understand what the heck any of it means (as in the case of Isaiah) it sure is pretty.

2) My health. Listen, I have had my share of medical problems, especially in the procreation department, but other than that, I have always had a clean bill of health. I don't have a serious disease, and the only time I get the flu is when I get a flu shot. I have the occasional cold, but who doesn't? I have no allergies, no asthma (the only one without these two things in my immediate family, by the way), I have never broken a bone, never had heart burn or indigestion, and if it weren't for my period, I would never have diarrhea. I can eat what I want and not get sick. Even my hickeys heal quickly! But my wonderful health has done me a disservice: I have very little patience when my husband, who has the whimpiest stomach ever, has the flu or heartburn. I say, "can't you just ignore it?" Sometimes he gets mad at me. But really, I am very healthy.

1) Joe. I know that Joe was meant to be my husband. Everything between us worked out way to perfectly to be coincidental. I sincerely believe that Heavenly Father knew that I needed someone who would tell me I was pretty all the time, and that Joe needed someone to tell him to trust himself enough to make his own decisions. So, I was prompted to move to Bluffdale and attend Riverton single's ward, and Joe's friend Bryce was prompted to invite Joe, whom he hadn't seen in 5 years, to the Riverton single's ward, where I was prompted to bear my testimony my first Sunday there, which caused Joe to think, "I have to find out who that girl is." One month after that, we were unofficially engaged. And I don't know if this is really true, but I think we are one of the happiest and most in love couples I know, and our goal is to keep it that way, clear until our Golden wedding anniversary. He is my Sweetheart, and I am his Cutie, and even though we have a lot of challenges to face, I am sure we will find a way to do it together.

So, this is ultimately the most cheesy post ever, but I really am grateful for everything I have in my life, and I feel most blessed to have the life I have, challenges and all.

Advice for the Future

It is a well known fact that I am a high school English teacher. Many teachers will tell you that they love their jobs, that they love making a difference in the lives of many students, and that ours is one of the few professions that really do make a difference in this world. And I agree with this. 89% of the time. The other 11% is filled with thoughts like, “this is ridiculous. If I wanted to be a baby sitter, I would be making a lot more money than this,” or, “these are the people that are supposed to take care of me when I get old? Please let me die young,” or, “there is no point to this. The students don’t care, the parents will blame me for a failing grade, but will congratulate their student when they pull an A, and Pres. Bush just passed another law that undermines the hours of unpaid work that teachers put in for a policy that causes schools to encourage students to drop out just so that we can receive funding. It’s not worth it. I could go get a job at a bank that has better hours, better pay, and when I go home, I can really go home—not to mention actually not feeling guilty for calling in sick.”

But it’s the profession I chose, and it’s a profession I chose with my eyes wide open. And it’s a profession that I am very, very good at. And it is a profession I love, despite its drawbacks, especially when the students pass a birthday card around the room (when it’s not anywhere near your birthday) and leave messages like, “you’re a great dancer” (check out my link “The Incredible Dancing Mrs. Bingham” to understand that one), or “You should try to be an author,” or “I loved your class. I learned so much, and now I actually know that I can write poetry to let out my feelings.” Those few moments, and they are few, are enough to sustain you through all the crap.

With that being said, I would like to give advice to all of you parents out there that will have a student in high school any time in the future. Since most of you who read my blog on a regular basis don’t have kids, or you are just starting families with your oldest not even in school yet, I suggest printing this out and putting it in an envelope and mark it with a note that says, “Read this the summer before _________________ (child’s name) enters high school,” and then put it somewhere where you will find it when that fateful day comes. What follows are twelve things you should remember as a parent of a high school student.

12) Failure is a part of life. Sometimes your kid might need to fail and deal with the consequences of failure to fully understand how to deal with it, not to mention learning a lesson about responsibility.

11) Always get both sides of a story. Your child is always going to make herself sound like the victim, and admittedly, the teacher is going to gloss of his behavior, too. Oh, and if there is a problem, DO NOT EVER go over the teacher’s head to the principal. Only go the principal when the teacher proves to be unreasonable. And, before you come swooping in to save the day, let your child try to fix it on his/her own. You should only swoop in when your kid has done all she can do.

10) Teachers are not perfect. Occasionally, a teacher will have a bad day, or have PMS, or having a personal crisis. A teacher might say something that s/he will regret and try to fix it. Sometimes, a teacher will misplace an assignment, or mis-enter a grade. This is NOT a personal attack on your child. It’s a mistake. Just like when you lose your keys.

9) Most teachers hardly ever lose an assignment. Check every locker, book bag, and binder before you accuse a teacher of losing an assignment. If you still can’t find it, chances are your kid never did it and is telling you what I call a homework fib. Now, not all students lie. But most of them do. They don’t do it because they’re bad kids; they do it because they’re teenagers and want to avoid punishment.8) Begin to understand that if the government feels that your student is responsible enough to operate a fairly large and dangerous vehicle, then a teacher feels that same student is responsible enough to do his/her homework without poking, prodding, or excessive reminding.

7) Teachers like teenagers. We do not go into the profession to ruin lives and hurt them. Most of us don’t, anyway.

6) Never, under any circumstance, lie for your child. That being said, I know each and every one of you will, heck I probably will at one point or another. Most of you are probably up in arms thinking, “I would never lie for my child.” You’d be surprised at what you would do. Don’t call the school when your student plays “hooky” to excuse them. Don’t write a note claiming that your computer broke the night before a major paper was due when in all actuality your kid didn’t start the paper until 10:00 the night before. Don’t insist that your kid did his/her homework to try to convince the teacher that she lost it when you know s/he didn’t do it in the first place. Don’t do homework for you kid. Don’t cover for him/her if s/he cheats. All any of this does is teach your teenager that it is okay to be dishonest with authority figures (which includes you, by the way), or that mommy and daddy will always bail him/her out, which is simply not true. Or it shouldn’t be true, anyway.

5) Accept the fact that not every student is an A student. And it shouldn’t be that way. If your kid is trying his very hardest, and all he can get is a C, celebrate the C. If there was a particularly difficult unit, and your student walks away with a B+ rather than the customary A, throw a party because he made a great showing. If your kid usually gets an F in English, and he comes home with a D- on his report card, tell him you’re proud of him for working hard to improve.

4) Don’t settle for less than the best. If your student comes home with a D- in math, even though she is a wiz at it, this should not be acceptable. This might sound the complete opposite from what I said above, but the principle is the same: Expect the best, and celebrate the best. Don’t settle for anything other than maximum effort, no matter what grade that is.

3) A due date is a due date and should not be negotiable, unless there has been extenuating circumstances. If you beg for extensions, you are teaching your child that there is always a way around rules, and that they can do what they want when they want and you will save them.

2) Parent Teacher Conferences should not be used as therapy sessions. Teacher do not want to hear about your divorce, your horrible schedule, your other children who are either very successful or dismal failures unless it relates directly to their class or your child’s grade.

1) Teacher do not award grades based on how they feel personally about your child. Teachers would like to, but it’s just not possible. Instead, teachers help students who are willing to help themselves more. I never grade a student differently, no matter what I think personally about that student. WARNING: Parents who badger the teacher, consistently lie for their student, blame the teacher, enable poor behavior in their student, or think their child is perfect runs the risk of hurting their student. If a student is receiving an 89%, which is a B+, I would usually bump that student to an A-. Unless their parents have been very difficult. Then I won’t help at all. Usually teachers love their students, but can’t stand their parents and, as a result, avoid the student in order to avoid the parents. This is unfair for the student, but it is the best way we know how to avoid a possible law suit.

As you might have guessed, it’s the last week of my term. It has been a week from hell. Not because of my students, but because of parents. My advice to all the parents out there: give your kid’s teachers a little credit, and encourage hard work in your students. If you do this, your child will have a very successful high school experience.

P.S. An F can NEVER be brought up to a B in two days. It’s just not mathematically possible.

Rhett Butler's People

Currently, with the help of my trusty eBook that I got for Christmas, I stumbled across a new book that caused to my heart to beat faster than when Myrtle got run over by a car in the fateful chapter 7 of The Great Gatsby, which, if you know anything about me, is saying something.

The book I stumbled across was one called Rhett Butler’s People. Now, if you have never graced the pages of the great American classic, Gone with the Wind, you can never understand why this title captured me like it did. I discovered Gone with the Wind in eighth grade when a friend of mine said she was trying to read the 1024 page-long epic, and I, not to be outdone, decided that I, too, needed to read it. I still remember the first time I tried to read that first very long chapter; I thought I was going to die of boredom, but my competitive nature kept me plodding along, slow and sluggish until Miss Scarlett O’Hara swung her hoop skirts in the towering pillars of Twelve Oaks and met caught Mr. Rhett Butler’s eye and said to herself, “God’s nightgown!...He looks as if –as if he knew what I looked like without my shimmy.”
From then on, I have been a Rhett Butler groupie.

I loved how Rhett was described as a malicious tomcat, a man too muscular to be a gentleman, and a swarthy pirate. I thrilled when Scarlett, having a temper tantrum in the library, threw a figurine across the room after the genteel Ashley Wilkes told her could not marry her, only to be surprised when Mr. Butler, a man rumored to “not be received,” popped his head up from behind the couch. It was just so cool! And then when she says, “Sir, you are no gentleman,” and Rhett replies, “An apt observation…and you, Miss, are no lady,” my heart just about dies with the agony that Scarlett O’Hara is such and idiot that she doesn’t jump him right then and there, forget the wanny-pants Ashley Wilkes.

Needless to say, when I stumbled across a newly written companion book to Gone with the Wind, I was thrilled. Especially in that Rhett Butler's People isn’t really a sequel to Gone with the Wind (the last attempt at a sequel being really, really, really bad—like Rosanne Barr trying to follow up Celine Dione in a concert), but rather, the love affair told from that swarthy pirate’s own point of view. I approached the book knowing that the author, Donald McCaig, had a really huge responsibility ahead of him, and to not expect too much. I was pleasantly surprised by the first few chapters, intrigued by the past that up till now had been very mysterious. Halfway through the eighth chapter, I decided that I needed to read these books side-by-side, in order to get the full affect of the he-said-she-said feeling that I enjoyed.

So I downloaded Gone with the Wind on the eBook, even though I have a (very battered) copy at home. I wanted to be able to switch back and forth with ease—and I began reading. Again, just like every time, I wished I were the cat-eyed belle with a 17 inch waist so I could be looked at like he knew what I looked like without my shimmy. And then I flipped to Rhett Butler’s People and began to read Rhett’s side of the account.

I have always pictured Rhett as laughing at Miss Scarlett because of her petty games and attracted to only her body. I really did think that Rhett Butler, a man of experience, knew what Scarlett looked like “without her shimmy.” So it was only natural that when I read, “Hope welled up in Butler like a healing spring…His heart slowed. He looked away, smiling at himself. It had been a long time since he’d made a fool of himself over a woman,” that I was extremely disappointed. No, no, no! Rhett is supposed to be the one person who doesn’t fall in love with Scarlett at first sight! He is supposed to regard her as a silly child to laugh at, to mock, and to lust after. He’s not supposed to fall in love with her until later when he finds that he can’t forget that silly thing without an ounce of brains.

I would have been much more satisfied if Mr. Butler, being the rascal that he is supposed to be, would have just thought Scarlett was nothing more than a nice piece of ass—that is, until she threw that stupid thing at his head in the library. Then he could have justifiably fallen in love with her, thinking, “Now that’s a woman!” In fact, the original text supports my expectations: later when he proposes to Scarlett, he says, “I always intended having you, Scarlett, since that first day I saw you at Twelve Oaks when you threw that vase and swore and proved that you weren’t a lady. I always intended on having you one way or another.” See? He doesn’t get all sentimental and sappy on the steps at Twelve Oaks. It’s later, in the library! Donald McCaig’s version took all the mystique of Rhett Butler, his charm and his swarthy pirate-ness, away from him. It made him just as bad as stupid old Charles Hamilton and that pansy Ashley Wilkes.
Although, on the other side of things, and to give McCaig a little credit, I was impressed at Mr. McCaig’s attention to detail. He did place every incident where it was supposed to be, and got most of the conversations right. And, he did give Rhett a good reason for laughing at Miss Scarlett under the Oak tree, so I wasn’t totally disappointed. But still!...

I guess the fact that the book sets Rhett’s sentimental nature in the forefront rather than his “to hell with ‘em” attitude I had always loved took the wind out of my groupie sails. It was just like finding out that Clark Gable had really bad breath, or that JFK had an affair with Marilyn Monroe, or that Carey Grant might have been gay, or that Miss Lehi was pregnant (a revelation that thoroughly caused me to lose all faith in humanity when I was in elementary school—if Miss Lehi could fall, anyone could fall). An illusion, a beautiful, wonderful illusion, had been shattered for me, has been shattered for me, and I am quite upset about it. I mean, Rhett Butler was my model in what I wanted in a man.

My first ever attempt at real annotation was in the pages where Rhett proposes after Scarlett has gotten her second husband killed. In that dashing way of his, Rhett kisses her, and after she asks him to stop because he’s "making her faint" with his fantastic moves, he proclaims, "I want to make you faint. I will make you faint. You’ve had this coming to you for years. None of the fools you’ve known have kissed you like this—have they? Your precious Charles or Frank or your stupid Ashley--…I said your stupid Ashley. Gentlemen all—what do they know about women? What did they know about you? I know you.” And then (get this) he proceeds to kiss Miss Scarlett O’Hara Hamilton Kennedy most inappropriately in the parlor of Miss Pitty-Pat’s home in such a way that her knees cease to work, and she agrees to marry him.
I had underlined this scintillating passage with a red sparkly gel pen when I re-red the book my sophomore year and scrawled in the margins, “I want to be kissed like this!” Little did I know that my current crush was more of an Ashley Wilkes than a Rhett Butler. (Joe’s kissing falls in the Rhett Butler department. Hence the wedding).

I cut my literary-analysis teeth on Gone with the Wind, particularly Rhett Butler. And then I find this book, this Rhett Butler's People, and it has upset me so dramatically that I tossed and turned with the indecency of a "soft" Rhett Butler that I was compelled to write this rant at 2:23 in the morning.

But, despite my protests, I will continue reading, because even though some of the image is shattered, there is still plenty Scarlett/Rhett romance moments where Mr. McCaig can try to redeem himself. And the allure of Rhett, no matter how botched in this new version, is still too strong for me. So this is probably not the first "RhettRant" to be gracing my blog in the future. Prepare yourself.

Merry Christmas! 2007

It has been a long while since I have graced the pages of my blog, but I feel it is time to give the year-end review of Joe and my life together for the year 2007. This is taking the place of a Christmas card letter, for those of you who care.

2007 started out pretty rough for Joe and me. Joe started out the year working for Jerry Seiner collision and was racking in a whopping 30 hours for every two weeks. Even to people who don't understand the collision biz, it sounds small. Just to give you the idea of how hard this was on us financially, Joe is used to flagging 150+ hours every two weeks. So, needless to say, we were hurting. But a lot can happen in a year. Joe finally quit Seiner's in January or February and began working for Larry H Miller Collision out on 2100 south. It was a welcome change. The people there loved him! He was getting so much work, and flagging up towards 200 hrs! It was a huge blessing. Then, in July, his first shop, AutoMenders, called and practically begged him to come back, but this time under a new owner, and a promise of a promotion in the office writing estimates. So, we went back to AutoMenders. Now Joe is working part-time in the shop doing collision, and part time in the office writing estimates and handling all the work from Progressive Insurance (who are a bunch of cheapskates and buy crappy parts for their customers, if you wanted to know). He is now looking for someone to replace him in the shop because the owner wants him to move full-time in the office, which is a relief to me, because the phrase "part-time in the shop" and "part-time in the office" has translated to be "full-time in the office and you better plan on working 12 hour days to get your work done in the shop." Eventually this office position will become shop manager when the current boss retires next year. We have really hit a turn around and finally feel a little stable.

In the midst of all this job-hopping (can you imagine having to explain all those job changes to a lender when we were refinancing our house?! It took some fancy vocabulary to confuse them so they would stop asking questions), I stayed at good old reliable Lehi High teaching Creative Writing and Sophomore English. I finished out my third year in May (which means I have tenure and can't be fired now!) and began my fourth in August. We are currently slogging through a very long, very treacherous, research paper. The research paper is my least favorite unit to teach, although this year I feel that the students have actually learned a little about the world. I had them research the candidates for the upcoming presidential primary. The students had to write mini papers, on background, 2 issues the candidates face, and personal opinion. It has been surprising to see so many Republican offspring become intrigued by Democrat, Barrack Obama. When Christmas break is over, I will be greeted with final papers and spend around 24 hours total grading them. I'll let you know what the class' consensus is.

Well, that's us in a nutshell. Now, Christmas! We had the most wonderful Christmas ever! I have to admit, Joe spoils me shamelessly. I got an eBook, which is this cool little hand-held device that downloads books from a site and you can read, like on a page. I am really excited to take this bad-boy to the gym and read without worrying about pages, and it will be great to finally pick out a purse without worrying how many books it can hold.

Joe got a Kitchen Aide Mixer, which he is very excited about. A lot of people have chided me, saying it was more of a gift for me than for him, but he was the one who asked for it, and he's the one who makes the cookies. See? Look how excited he is.

I made out with several Cd's, a DIGITAL CAMERA (hence all the uncharacteristic pictures), a camera bag for my film SLR, and a zoom lens for my film SLR, which I hear Joe got for a killer deal on ebay. Along with the Kitchen Aide, Joe got a cordless drill, a Magnum PI shirt (pictured above), an iPod cord for his truck, and some movies. I know. I am really really spoiled. But I assure everyone that Joe will get his turn on his birthday in three months.

We spent a few hours at my parent's house, where my niece, Taylor, just had to show off her new princess dress, hair, shoes, and makeup. Then, my brother, Rory, felt that he was too distinguished for the rest of us .

We spend some time sledding with Joe's niece (Alexias) and nephew (Hunter). Isn't Joe cute when he's cold? And then we played a little Guitar Hero. We were thoroughly out-classed by Alexias's James-Tayloresque skill and Hunter's Jimmi-Hendrixion style. It was a wonderful Christmas with lots of friends, lots of family, and LOTS of food (side note: anyone every been to Rib City on 94th south and 2oth east? That's some goo-ood eating!), and more blessings than we deserve. We hope this year has been good to everyone. Merry Christmas, and we Love Everyone...who reads this blog.

Just kidding. We love EVERYONE, even if they don't read this blog.

Buy we love those who do read it better.

You Are a Blue Crayon

Your world is colored in calm, understated, deep colors. You are a loyal person, and the truest friend anyone could hope to find. On the inside, you tend to be emotional and even a bit moody. However, you know that people depend on you. So you put on a strong front. Your color wheel opposite is orange. Orange people may be opinionated, but you feel they lack the depth to truly understand what they're saying.

What Color Crayon Are You?

What Color is Joe?

You Are a Green Crayon

Your world is colored in harmonious, peaceful, natural colors.While some may associate green with money, you are one of the least materialistic people around.Comfort is important to you. You like to feel as relaxed as possible - and you try to make others feel at ease.You're very happy with who you are, and it certainly shows! Your color wheel opposite is red. Every time you feel grounded, a red person does their best to shake you.

What'>http://www.blogthings.com/whatcolorcrayonareyouquiz/">What Color Crayon Are You?

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.