Dreams

Note: The following blog is not a real life situation. As much as I would like it to be, it is not based on a true story. This is merely a story, one that is similar to most single girls daydreams. I used song titles (highlighted) to create this “fairy tale” so enjoy what I did to waste the afternoon. I certainly had fun!

‘Once Upon a Time’ on a ‘Monday, Monday’, ‘Maria’ was sitting in class. She was thinking about ‘Johnny Angel’. They had dated ‘Time after Time’ but lately she felt ‘Confused’. He had been surrounded by ‘Seven Little Girls’ and didn’t seem to mind the attention. On their last date, he’d held her hand and said, ‘You are My Sunshine’. She wanted to continue down this new, exciting path, but she didn’t feel that he wanted things to go in the ‘Same Direction’. She thought, “It’s ‘Easier to Run’ and ‘Escape’ this confusion, but I need to ‘Face the Music’. It’s ‘Now or Never’.” So, she pulled Johnny aside after class and said, tears streaming down her face, “I am ‘Going Out of My Head’. ‘You’re Driving me Crazy’. You continually ‘Pass Me By’ in class. I feel ‘Faint’ and ‘Numb’. ‘If’ you would even look at me, you’d see that I live ‘In a Glass House’. My emotions are on my sleeves, because ‘I’ve Got a Crush on You’. ‘Someday’, I hope you’ll feel the same way. But ‘Till Then’ I want you to know ‘I will Wait for You’.” He quickly responded, “‘Hey Look, No Crying’. ‘Dry Your Eyes’, Maria. I have been as ‘Thick as a Brick’. You could call me the ‘21st Century Schizoid Man’. ‘If I Only Had a Brain’ I would be able to see your ‘Feelings’ through your ‘Blue Eyes’. But I think ‘You’d Be Surprised’. You’re ‘The Only One’ for me.” With a sigh of relief, Maria exclaimed, “Then ‘Make Me a Believer’. ‘Be Good Johnny’ and you should ‘Call Me’ sometime soon.”

That Friday, Johnny called her and asked, “‘Are you Lonesome Tonight?’ I think that we should do something fun. ‘Let’s Go Fly a kite’.” She laughed, “But ‘Baby, It’s Cold Outside’.” “Alright, then ‘Come Waltz with Me’. Or we could do the ‘Mambo Italiano’.” She agreed with haste. Later that night, while she was getting ready, she thought, “‘As Time Goes By’, I do believe that ‘Now is the Hour’. He should be here any minute. This will be ‘Some Enchanted Evening’.” The doorbell rang and she flew to answer the door. Johnny stood stunned, his mouth hanging slightly open, “Wow, You are ‘The Most Beautiful Girl in the World’.” He took her hand and helped her into his ‘Little Red Corvette’.

As they arrived at the dance, they were shocked to hear one girl say, “No! ‘I Won’t Dance’. But I think ‘I Feel a Song Coming On’.” Maria whispered to Johnny, “Well, ‘Here’s to the Losers’. How about we ‘Run Away’ from them.” Laughing, he replied. “‘I get a Kick Out of You’.” They made their way to the dance floor and Johnny turned with a deep bow, “My lady, ‘May I Have this Dance’?” “Of course!” “I must warn you, however, ‘I like to Lead When I Dance’.” “That’s fine, ‘I Wouldn’t Have You Any Other Way’.” They began floating around the dance floor when a young man stopped them and said to Johnny, “‘So She Dances’?” Taken back, Johnny replied, “Yes, ‘My Lady Loves to Dance’.” The young man turned to Maria and said, “Would you like to leave this guy and come ‘Dance with Me’? You know, it ‘Takes Two to Tango’.” Johnny stepped in, “Hey, that’s ‘My Girl’! Go find someone else.” The young man skulked away. “Thanks Johnny. Why do guys do that? I hate feeling like ‘Another Piece of Meat’.” “Well, I’m not surprised. With ‘The Way You Look Tonight’, guys are bound to come check out ‘You and Your Beautiful Eyes’.” The night eventually came to a close and they announced ‘The Last Dance’. Johnny whispered, “Why don’t you ‘Put Your Head on my Shoulder’.” Maria willingly complied and they began to ‘Sway’. The song ended too quickly, but Maria was thrilled as they exited ‘Hand in Hand’.

As they got ‘Closer to Home’, Johnny suddenly exclaimed, “I have an idea. ‘Let’s Fall in Love’!” Maria’s eyes widened, “You need to ‘Be Careful, It’s My Heart’ you’re talking about. ‘Don’t Break My Heart’.” “Just ‘Think About It’.” Meanwhile, the neighbor was watching from the window. She turned to her husband and said, “Honey, they’re back and ‘It Looks Like Love’. I’d say ‘That’s Amore’, wouldn’t you?” He rolled his eyes, “Quit ‘Window Dreaming’ and ‘Let Them Talk’ in privacy.” Johnny and Maria walked to the porch and Johnny said, “Come here, you ‘Embraceable You’. I want to be ‘Closer to You’.” Maria giggled, “Ok, ‘Hold Me, Hug Me, Rock Me’ and ‘Never Let Go’.” He gave her ‘The Look’ and whispered, “‘Besame Mucho’.” Maria was stunned. She’d never been kissed before and she thought, “‘Oh Boy! Oh Boy! Oh Boy! Oh Boy! Oh Boy!’” Instead of saying that, however, she replied, “‘Excuse Me’? I do believe that’s the ‘Man’s Job’. You need to make that move.” “Come on, Maria. ‘Let the Rest of the World Go By’ and ‘Let Me Kiss You’.” With a smile, she closed her eyes and leaned in. His face filled with fear as he quickly planted a kiss on her; only it missed her lips and hit her nose. Her eyes flew open as he said, embarrassed, “I’m sorry. I need to ‘Apologize’ because I don’t have a lot of ‘Experience’ in this area. Can I have ‘Just One More Chance’?” Maria grinned and winked, “Alright, ‘Try Again’ but don’t make ‘The Same Mistake’.” Laughter released the tension that they both were feeling. ‘The Second Time Around’, Maria felt like it was ‘Better Than a Dream’. Her pulse was racing and her heart cried ‘Ring-A Ding Ding’. Johnny pulled away and said, “Maria, ‘I Think I Love You’.” She melted and asked, “Do you mean that? Or are you just ‘Hooked on a Feeling’?” “What I feel will last…‘Only Forever’. But now, ‘I Really Must be Going’.” He touched her face and she sighed, “Johnny, ‘I Love the Way You Say Goodnight’.” “Then I’ll say it again, ‘Goodnight, My Love’.”

Maria was ‘Overjoyed’. She felt like she was ‘On the Top of the World’. In fact, she was either ‘Walking on Sunshine’ or she’d swigged a whole bottle of ‘Love Potion Number Nine’. She prayed that this relationship would last not ‘Just for Tonight’, but for ‘Forever and a Day’.

Ok ladies, you can take a ‘Breath’ now. And guys, you can stop laughing, but I understand because ‘I Love to Laugh’. I guess this is the kind of blog you get when I’m ‘Deep in a Dream’. But I choose to believe that ‘We’re Lovers of Loving Love’. Most people like a good ‘Love Story’! Granted, there are people who believe that ‘Love Stinks’. But there are people like me who constantly ‘Daydream’. We are those individuals who go ‘All Through the Night’ and ‘Dream the Dream’ that ‘Love is on the Way’. Truly, ‘This is My Life’ and the life of those ‘Poor Unfortunate Souls’ like me. But I say to you now, go ahead and indulge yourself in a ‘Fantastic Dream’. Let it carry your heart ‘Up, Up and Away’ so that you reach the ‘Rainbow Connection’. And so, ‘Goodnight, My Someone’ I will be ‘Dreaming of You’ tonight. Which reminds me, ‘I Had the Craziest Dream’…

Whiteout

Today I realized that there are many modern day miracles. There’s duct tape, safety pins, band-aids, erasable pens, super glue, and the list goes on. The latter day wonder I’d like to focus on is whiteout. It’s incredible! You make a mistake and bippity-boppity-whiteout it’s fixed. What makes it even better is that there are many different kinds that will meet each individual need. Correction fluid (in the bottle), the pen, the tape (my favorite), labels, stamps, and even erasers are available. It’s a wonderful thing. It makes me think of a well-known joke and being a smart blonde, I’m allowed to say this. How can you tell that a blonde has been using the computer? There is whiteout on the monitor. Classic! That doesn’t work anyway. When you put whiteout on the screen and continue to type, the error keeps scrolling higher, more correction fluid is required, and the monitor then has a strip of white down the middle. Not that I know from experience or anything. Really, I’m not that dumb.

The only problem with whiteout is that it only works on paper (or various other office supplies). Sometimes I wish I could blot out things that happened in my life. Let me give you a couple of examples. There is this lady that comes into my work monthly. One of the first times I helped her, she yelled at me about something that wasn’t my fault. Being a sensitive soul, I fought back tears trying to remember that she was upset by the situation, not me. That was hard considering that she began calling me incompetent. I really don’t like it when my intelligence is belittled, so she automatically went on my bad list. I try not to be the one that helps her when she comes. About three weeks ago, I saw her walking in and I was the only one available to help her. I got her item off the shelf before she had made it to the front and she said nicely, “You know my name? Wow, that must mean I come in here too much.” “No, I just have a good memory…” of when you ripped me apart, you Old Bat. I know…that was a harsh thing to think. She was very nice to me when she got what she wanted. If I had met her at that moment, I might have liked her. I wish I could use whiteout to forget how rude she was. Maybe she was having a bad day or was frustrated, but all I can remember is being told I’m incompetent.

Another event that I would like to erase is the date I went on last Saturday. It was my first date with the guy. He told me (towards the end of the date) that he wants to get to know me better. Then proceeded to say that he’s looking for a serious, long-term relationship. He said some very sweet things about me, but when I said I wasn’t ready to promise anything, he retorted, “Are you not ready or are you scared?” Uh…both. I’m not ready to have this conversation on the first date and now I’m scared of you. I even told him I had never had anyone bring up a relationship conversation like that and I felt very awkward. He said, “You know, I can feel the awkwardness and I don’t mind.” I MINDED!! Oh, how I wish I had a giant wand with correction fluid. I would wipe that entire conversation away. Wouldn’t it be nice if you could go back in the past? I would go and put a flashing neon light on that page of my life that read, “Don’t go on a date with him. He’ll try to play ‘Celestial Pursuit’ with you, and he’ll use the commitment pattern.” (Shudder) Wrong in so many ways. I would like to erase that memory completely.

There are also mistakes that I’ve done. Things that I won’t write about, but that have affected me. Those are probably what have shaped me into the person I am today. If I look at the person I am now and the person I used to be, maybe I don’t want to wipe out those events. I would never have learned, never have grown. (Well, I haven’t grown physically. But you get what I mean.) Maybe time is the ultimate whiteout. If we allow time to work it’s magic, the wounds of the past will not be erased, but covered with a newer, fresher memory. “Isn’t it about…time?" (from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints). Now, if you will excuse me, I need to clean the white stuff off my monitor before my dad gets home.

Meat Market

Have you ever wanted to write something but the words didn’t want to leave the cozy mush in your noggin? It feels as if someone kidnapped the words I long to use and is holding them ransom. Can you jump-start your brain? Does anyone have any jumper cables? It would have to be today, too. Wednesdays are ideal days to write my blog, because I only work until mid-morning. Therefore, I have the rest of the day to devote to other things. Of course, the cranial blockage would occur when I have enough time to waste in front of this humming box. (Sigh) But, I’ve said it before and I’ll surely say it again, “Such is life.”

Oh, wait! I just got an idea. I have discovered in life that there is no winning for losing. Those of you who have been faithful readers know how frustrating I find the dating world. How can you tell that someone is attracted to you? How do you let them know you’re attracted to them without throwing your heart on the floor and doing the Cha-cha on top? I have been watching others to see how they accomplish this feat and have been trying to weave the techniques into the loom that is my life. (Wow, I sure use a lot of metaphors) I noticed during the “people watching” that others were watching me.

While singing in my car two weeks ago, I glanced out the passenger window at the car next to mine. There were 4 young men ogling me. Yes, ogling. Normal girls would find this of the ultimate flattery. I find it entirely degrading. Sure, it’s nice to feel attractive. But when you have been metaphorically turned into grade-A meat, it makes you feel like you’re hanging on a rack in a freezer. What do they think I am, rump roast? Prime rib? Sirloin steak? Would I be considered rare or well done? Either way, I quickly looked away from the apes with their tongues hanging out. Gross! Over the course of the next couple weeks, I noticed not one or two but approximately ten cars with similar primates. Each checked me out as I did everything in my power not to pull a less than desirable face at them. Ignoring was my ultimate defense. These unwanted moments made me think, “Why don’t good guys notice me like that?” The fact that they are GOOD GUYS answers that question.

I’ve heard that men do not like to be referred to as “good guys”. With good girls (those girls like my friends and I), it is a sincere compliment that describes those men who live their religion, are trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, reverent, and praiseworthy. We are seeking after these men. I can’t say if good guys notice me (sometimes I wish I could), because “good guys” do not OGLE girls. They send an appreciative glance, a smile, or a compliment (these are a few of MY favorite things). My dad told me that the difference between meat-lovers and good guys is respect. Good guys respect women and therefore look at them different. Meat-lovers look at women with only lust. Just to clarify, meat-lovers can also be women. I feel bad for the poor men who are caught in their lecherous gaze because I understand the feeling. “Look! It’s meat. Grab the cheap barbecue sauce and we’ll devour her with our eyes.” Degrading. As soon as they pull out the Steak sauce, I feel like giving them a roundhouse kick in the face. I would much rather have the guy respect me and treat me thus than eyeball me with a bottle of Western Family BBQ sauce.

And so it is, I send out my appreciation to all of the good guys out there. You are who true good girls are looking for. Thank you for not gawking at us. Please feel free to smile, glance appreciatively, and by all means, compliment us as much as you want. We LOVE it!

Love Canteen

Since Valentine's Day is just around the corner, I thought I'd lower my pride and write a topic on love (of sorts). I've never been particularly fond of “Single’s awareness day" and have always believed it was a holiday for the card companies...and candy. Since it is Major Bubble’s Anniversary, I decided to not bash the day but find some good in it. So Happy 6-month Anniversary Major…six months of what, I’m not sure! I’ll move on to my topic now.

Whenever I hear the word marriage, I stop listening. It’s a reflex that has been developing for several years. Today, I was caught off guard. While driving to my destination, I turned on the radio. They were in the middle of a story told by Glenn Rawson (he tells inspirational stories for several radio stations). He said the following, “I have heard it said that ‘men are from Mars and women are from Venus.’ Well, I don’t know about that. I think they both come from heaven, and I think that God makes them deliberately different so that the eternity they spend understanding each other and becoming one makes them one with God at the same time. Please don’t forget: Marriage is a man, a woman, and a God.” It was inspiring to me. Marriage is a beautiful thing. I believe that many people forget the third member in the marriage. If not, why would there be so many that fail?

Looking back at my Valentine’s Days past, I feel a little sheepish. I always held on to hope that some guy would come out of the woodwork and confess his undying love for me. What a hopeless romantic I am (and always will be)! I take that back…I’m a HOPEFUL romantic. No matter what I do, I always have a glimmer of it in the back of my heart. But I look at the past and see the disappointment that came yearly. I’ve never had that special someone to enjoy it with. Bitterness built up until Valentine’s became a superfluous holiday with strong commercial overtones (thanks Janel). I see now that I’ve been looking at it wrong. Even though I’m not dating anyone and this will indeed be another one of those lonely holidays, it doesn’t mean that I can’t show love in another way. There are family members and friends who I love dearly. Why can’t I show love to them, let them know how much I appreciate them? I admit, it would be much more enjoyable “with” someone. But…what are you going to do? Such is life.

Now, here are my feelings on the other aspect of Valentine’s. Why has it become commercial? I was at work the other day when I heard a radio ad. It said something like this: “Have you got something special for your loved one? Is your wife going to be mad that you didn’t get her that necklace she wanted? You don’t want to get in trouble for picking up flowers at the last minute. So, plan ahead and surprise your loved one by buying this.” I was disgusted. Do women really get angry with their husbands for not getting some expensive gift? I know, it happens all the time, but it’s horrible. What’s wrong with spending some time together, a hug, a kiss, a compliment, a phone call, a sincere note or e-mail? If I know the guy really cares for me, then it doesn’t matter about the rest of the stuff. I can go out and buy a necklace or a ring, but not a man who genuinely loves me (No, I’m not buying a mail-order groom. My sister already gave me a “grow-a-boyfriend” for my birthday). I wish people would be less ready to receive worldly items and more ready to give love. Isn’t that what this holiday is all about?

So go out and tell someone you love them. It doesn’t have to be romantic. Just give someone a hug and fill up his or her love canteen. Don’t be surprised if (on Valentine’s Day) I come up and give you a great big hug. If I don’t, you better give one to me!

Slacker

I feel like the ultimate slacker today. I'm tired, angry, frustrated, and to top it off, I don't feel well. Therefore, I don't want to write today. But since I agreed to this blogathon, I'm going to post something. It just might not be what you want to read. I'm going to post a poem that I wrote in high school. At my Alma Mater, there is a statue of a knight by the front entrance. In my AP English class, we were assigned to write a poem describing what came to our minds when we looked at the heroic figure. Enjoy...or don't, I don't really care right now.

Knight Poem

A fragrance of Victory!
The sword, still hot from battle.
sears a brand upon his palm.
Sweat drips down a dirt-covered face.
His knees give away,
collapsing on the ground.
Not because of weakness,
because of strength!
A gaze landing at heavenly gates.
Humility fills his brow.
Silent words pierce the sky.
A thankful prayer.
Strong arms lift the sword in triumph.
A sacrifice for God and Country.
Just as a newborn lamb, he trembles,
but slowly manages to rise.
Panic strikes!
Heart beating like a drum,
He scans the still valley,
Fearing that this is only a dream.
Quick glances confirm the truth!
This victory was his!
A sigh escapes his hushed lips.
With a rush of energy, he leaps on his horse.
Gallantly, he rides away,leaving only memories behind!

Sticks

I love Fridays. It is the one day of the week that I get to spend time with my niece and nephew. It’s incredible to feel the love of a young child. I love hearing, “AUNT ANNIE!” and then watching my nephew tear across the room to give me a bear hug. What a feeling! I watch these two adorable children and what thoughts sear into my mind? “The poor things are going to have to go through the pains of the world. The heartache of love. The insecurities that come from every day life. The lack of self worth. Finding their testimony in a world that’s fraught with opposition.” I wish I could shield them from the feelings I’ve inevitably felt. But how would they develop physically, mentally, emotionally, or spiritually without these trials of life. These emotions are anything but new to me. But hey, I’m a woman. When you look up the word emotional in the dictionary, you’ll see a picture of a mob of women (throwing high heels). Today was no different.

Today I saw some unique flirting techniques that have taken place since I was in high school. There are people that are much more experienced in the art of flirting. But I experienced the other side today. As I stated in a previous blog, my flirt vessel is humor or other forms of verbal communication. The key word being verbal. During class today I saw the physical form everywhere I turned. There were those lovable eighteen/nineteen year olds that were jumping on everyone (girls and guys…mainly guys). There was the constant touching (i.e. a hand on the arm, shoulder patting, elbow squeezing, hugging, etc). There were (as I’ve also mentioned before) the stalkers who are always near their current interest. But the vessel of flirting that caused me to lack self-confidence was the following: guys carrying girls around. But not just any girls, the girls that are about as big as your pinkie. The beautiful, appealing girls that cause the rest of the females in the vicinity to cower with insecurity. This “carrying” has occurred since I was in high school and it has always bothered me.

Now I understand that guys are not going to go up to a “larger” girl and carry her (cradle style) someplace. I wouldn’t want to break my back and I expect they feel the same. But I have BEEN the “heavy” girl. It’s a difficult emotion to cover, especially when you’re trying on dresses for, let’s say choir. You’re feeling good about yourself, because for the first time in a LONG time, you fit in a size 10 (a size smaller than the average American woman). You get in line behind a Stick. The Dress Coordinator says to the paper-weight, “What size are you?” The Stick’s response, “This is a size two, but do you have a size zero anywhere?” Ouch. It makes you want to run back in the bathroom and throw up. I can guarantee that I will NEVER be a size 2. And frankly, I don’t know if I want to be. This is one of the reasons it’s hard to see the guys physically flirt with the Twigs in this way. Those of us who are not a size zero are never going to be flirted with in this way (not that I want some random guy coming and picking me up. That would be a tad on the weird side. But then I’ve never been the type of girl that guys flirt with physically. And with the counsel of the prophets, it’s something I’m proud to admit).

I want to make it clear that I love Sticks. Some of my good friends fit into this category. They are some of the friendliest people and can be exceptionally good looking. My heart aches for those of us who are not, nor will ever be, in this “weight class”. To look around (as this flirt technique is taking place) and see the faces of the other girls breaks my heart. Why do guys do this? To prove how masculine they are? They’re picking up a push broom for goodness sake, even I could do that! Or is it a way of showing the “girl-in-arms” that they’re interested? I guess only they know the answer to that question.

I want to specify the fact that I don’t look down on the people who do this. They are wonderful people that I admire. I wanted to write about this to clear my mind of frustration for those of us who will NEVER experience this type of flirting, who get down on ourselves for not being pencil-thin. “It doesn’t matter what size you are. What matters is what’s on the inside.” I hate hearing that. In dating, appearances DO matter. What we need to remember is that in 50 years, the Sticks will have Osteoporosis. So, if you ever need a GOOD hug, go for a “bigger” girl. That way, you can be sure you’ll get a good squeeze. And you’ll know we won’t break in half!

Homer the Great

WARNING: If you are not a Simpsons fan, do NOT read this.

“Why can’t we watch The Simpsons, Dad?” “Because it’s a bad influence. The kids are very disrespectful.” “But we wouldn’t be. Can’t we watch it just this once?” “No, The Simpsons will not be watched in this house.”

Famous last words if I ever heard any. This is just a snippet of the conversations my brother and I had with our parents regarding that ever-controversial cartoon. We begged and pleaded to watch it just a couple times, but were repeatedly denied. So, we, being children not easily dissuaded, went to our neighbor’s house (my brothers good friend) and watched. I admit this with hesitancy seeing as we were being disobedient. We justified this by saying, “Dad said The Simpsons would never be watched in OUR house, not our neighbor’s.” It took several years before we were found out. My brother was in high school, I in Junior High. Rye was able to sweet-talk our parents into just sitting and watching one episode with us. If they didn’t like it, we would never watch it again. Needless to say, we are watching it to this day, laughing at the sarcasm and hilarious irony.

Understanding irony is definitely a key to appreciating The Simpsons. What good parent would say, “Well, kids, you tried your best and you failed miserably. The lesson is…never try.” A parent who taught their child to never try would be hogtied to a chair and have Parenting for Dummies thrown at their head. If any person is watching with the intent of seeing a normal family doing average things, they are choosing the wrong show. It is about a dysfunctional family and the way they screw up their own lives and everyone around them. Watching television can be very depressing, due to the immorality, language, broken families, etc. I admit The Simpsons does have a lot of these qualities that I don’t appreciate. There are in truth many episodes that I refuse to watch (I don’t watch much TV as it is). But I do admire the fact that the creators of The Simpsons have kept Homer and Marge together. Here is a couple that has more problems than most people and yet they choose to put forth the effort to make their marriage work. That’s almost unheard of nowadays on and off TV.

My brother will agree when I say that our favorite character is Homer. Dan Castellaneta (the voice of Homer) said it perfect. Homer is like "a dog trapped in a man's body. He's incredibly loyal – not entirely clean – but you gotta love him." At family functions, my brother and I quote lines from The Simpsons and other shows back and forth. It’s as if we have our own language. I’ve shared this language with my close friends who don’t judge me for having such ecclectic taste. If you are ever around my friends, my brother, and I you may hear a few select quotes. “Yar, I’m unattractive.” “You couldn't fool your own mother on the foolingest day of the year with an electrified fooling machine!” “That guy impressed me and I am not easily impressed. Wow. A blue car!” “With $10,000, we'd be millionaires! We could buy all kinds of useful things like...love!” “Oh, so they have internet on computers now!” “What's a wedding? Webster's dictionary describes it as the act of removing weeds from one's garden.” “I want the answers now or eventually!” And there are many more where those came from. In fact, here are two more of my favorites…just for kicks. "What? Are you going to sick the dogs on me? Or the bees? Or the dogs with bees in their mouth, so when they bark they shoot bees at you?" “Oh doctor, I was in a magical land of fire and brimstone. And there were little men in red running around, sticking pitchforks in my butt!"

If you are entirely turned off by this blog…you shouldn’t have read it. As for my family and me, we have created cherished memories in the warm glowing warming glow of The Simpsons. Their stories make us feel a little more normal than we otherwise might. However, I still have one question I’d like to ask. “Donuts. Is there anything they can't do?”

Why Gnomes

Let me introduce you to gnomes, or as I like to call them G.N.O.M.E.S. (Grouchy Nongregarious Old Misers of Elfish appearance and Size). Gnomes came from the icy lands of Scandinavia and then, about 1500 years ago, they migrated to the rest of Europe. They are actually known by several different names depending on where you go. In different areas of Germany, they are called Erdmanleins or Heinzemannchens (say those 10 times fast). In Iceland, they are called Foddenskkmaend. Switzerland and Luxembourg prefer Kleinmanneken. Nisse is their name in Denmark and Norway, or Nissen in Sweden. And the list goes on (did you want to know all that, Major Bubbles?). There are several varieties as well: garden, lawn, and forest to name a few. They are approximately 15 centimeters in height, have impeccable eyesight, and are very fast. They are exceedingly clever at hiding. In fact, if you have a garden gnome, keep an eye open or it may conceal itself in your shrubbery. They are the guardians of treasures and they try to stay far away from humans. Is this an entirely male species? No, there are, in fact, female gnomes. And did you know that these little people have an aversion to cats? Fascinating.

You may ask how I first encountered a lawn gnome. Well, here is the awe-inspiring story. I was visiting my friend (she lived up in the mountains) when we decided to play hide-n-seek outside. She was counting first and so I dashed up a path into the woods. Tiptoeing swiftly and stealthily, I felt a sharp pain shoot up my leg. Hopping on one foot, I noticed a shriveled, evil looking man made out of ceramic. Picking up the gnome, I cautiously inspected it closely. Then, realizing the game was still afoot (I had stubbed my toe. HA!) I hobbled away. I swear I heard faint laughter in the background…and it didn’t sound like my friend. Dun, Dun DUH!!!! After this odd introduction, I began noticing gnomes everywhere. They were in gardens, on lawns, in potted plants, and other various locations. It became intriguing to me, trying to find these ornery, bearded folk. They never seem to be in the same place twice and they’re always slightly obscured from view. Can they come to life? I guess we’ll never know.

I have to admit, I love the fact that gnomes are small…like me (that’s their most endearing feature)! They are much too grumpy in my opinion, but wouldn’t you be irritable if people kept knocking you over and disturbing your solitude? I also have an appreciation for their seclusion. As a human, I can’t live every moment in a hole, but I definitely put my emotions in one (most of the time). They don’t dress to impress as we do. We’re trying to meet people, not scare them off with old geezer apparel. They couldn’t care less. But it brings me a smile every time I see their baggy shirt and pants, the buckle around their middle (Over the shirt, big fashion no-no. I mean the 80’s are SO over). And I only know a few men who could pull off the beard/hat combo. What’s not to like about gnomes? So, I implore you, treat them with respect. Unless of course one trips you for no reason and laughs maniacally. Then I give you permission to knock him over and take his treasure.

The First Book of Annie

I must thank the only person who left me a comment. Thank you Janel! Your request shall be fulfilled. As for the rest of you. You should be ashamed, keeping all of your ideas to yourselves. Unless, of course, you've just been too busy to assist me, then you are forgiven. (Also, thanks Rye, for the ideas I'm stealing from your Christmas letter. I dedicate this to you and Janel!) And so, The First Book of Annie begins.

1 And it came to pass that I, Annie, did write my epistle unto my blog readers, therefore I make a record of the proceedings of my day. Yea, I make a record in the language of my father, which consists of the learning of the Utahns and the language of the Engineers.
2 For it came to pass in the commencement of the eighth year of the reign of Bush, there came out a decree from the Internal Revenue Service that all the United States should be taxed. And when I did hear, I did quake and tremble exceedingly.
3 And behold, it was revealed unto me that I should not see death before I had paid taxes. And I wept.
4 And it came to pass that the primary election were taking place in the land. And I did vote early and did wear my sticker with much pride. And there were in the same state many who chose not to vote and we did boo them exceedingly.
5 And it came to pass that I, Annie, did arrive at work at an early hour. And I was exceedingly tired. And thus, I did murmur against my boss.
6 But behold, my boss did speak unto me saying, "Let this be a sign unto you, ye shall find the check wrapped in an envelope, lying in a drawer." And behold, I did remember my paycheck and did repent with exceeding haste. Thus I did stock the shelves and was grateful for the money which I did earn.
7 And it came to pass that I did hear from many customerites concerning their bills. And I did help them much with their problems. And their rejoicing could be heard throughout the land.
8 And I went forth, and when I came near to the house of religion I beheld that some students had fallen in the snow before me, for the sidewalk had not been shoveled. And I did feel much sorrow on their behalf. Thus I entered the house of religion and did play the piano with an exceedingly glad heart. And there was with me a multitude of heavenly voices singing praises unto the most high. And this caused much happiness throughout the room.
9 And there were young warriors who did flirt exceedingly much and did cause the hearts of the women to flutter. And there were young women in the same room who did leap upon the warriors and did stalk them even unto the doors and they were sore afraid. I did fear that they may be lead away by the foolish imaginations of their hearts for Valentines Day was near. Inasmuch as the flirting did continue, it did confound the wise and the learned for they were charmed by beauty. And I did roll my eyes exceedingly much.
10 Therefore, I did depart and went up unto my place of employment where there were many phone calls. And the customerites again began to murmur about their bills. And these phone calls did cause me much frustration. But behold, their anger did increase against me, insomuch that they did seek to take away my life. And the last sentence was false, for they were exceedingly agreeable. And they did listen as I explained the depths of what they owed.
11 However, there were many notes left for the other coworkerites, and they did not take heed. And my heart was stirred and I did confront them with mine anger. And the coworkerites did offer me chocolate to soften my heart. But I fled and did run swiftly up four flights of stairs. Now it came to pass that I returned and did enter a happy state. Behold, I did now accept their offering and did rejoice in it exceedingly.
12 And it came to pass that the snow did cause much confusion in the parking lot. And the customerites were exceedingly wroth for the snow plow had not left much room. And they did badger us with many questions which we could not answer.
13 And there came unto work a young trainee, whose stink surpasseth all that stinketh. And there was much rejoicing from the coworkerites for this was his final day of training. And he did depart. And behold, this I declare unto you with glad tidings of great joy.
14 And the time came that I could return to my home, in which thing I did rejoice. And I did have reason to rejoice for our system had crashed and we could not type the things which were needed. Behold, my beloved blog readers, I speak unto you these things that you may rejoice. For I did come home and write this blog with much laughter. And my foot did fall asleep during the writing of it.
15 And now, my friends, I desire that ye should smile, that this blog should cause you to laugh exceedingly; for, for this intent I have written this epistle. And now, I bid unto you all, farewell. I soon go to the kitchen to find sustenance. Blog readers, adieu.

Life’s Little Hugs

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. When life gives you hugs, hug back. I had an event occur today that I would consider a "life hug". I was leaving work when I fell into step with an older gentleman. He glanced at me and I smiled as I normally would at a complete stranger. Sometimes, the unknown person will lift a corner of their mouth in return. This gentleman gave me a 1000-watt grin. So, I struck up a conversation that went as follows:
Annie: "Hello, how are you?"
Nice Old Gentleman: "I'm doing well, and how are you today?"
A: "I'm great!"
NOM: "That is so good to hear. It makes those of us that feel the same even happier."
A: "Thank you! That was sweet of you to say."
NOM: "My dear, you continue having a great day and be very careful."
A: "I will and you do the same."
A simple conversation, a day brightened, one of life's little hugs. Sadly, it's not a common occurrence.

People have become increasingly self-absorbed. I would say about 65% of the people that enter my place of employment don't say "Hi". They can't return a greeting that takes less than a second to say. How hard is it to return a little common courtesy? It's not hard at all! It is thrilling to see someone come in that is smiling. Someone that is kind to me. I LOVE helping them and am even more willing to go out of my way to assist them with what they need. That nice gentleman returned not only a bright smile, but also a few kind words. And that made all the difference! I hope when others think of me, they think of a kind young woman who is always ready and willing to give a smile and a hug and offer a listening ear. Not that I'm going to start giving hugs to my customers. I think I'd get fired.

Well, my friends, I wish to ask you a question. What would my wonderful readers like me to write about this final week of the blogathon? I'm up for anything! (Well, almost anything.) If you leave me some good ideas, I will do my best to write about each one. If you decide not to participate, you will be stuck with whatever leaps from my imagination. That could be quite scary. Can you live with that?

Walking Zombie

There are several reasons why I am today, the walking dead. First: too many late nights. Second: an active mind that likes to play every scenario of earlier occurrences or ask questions about these events to torment me. Third: working late into the night stuffing bills into envelopes that will most likely be tossed into the trash. Fourth: shoveling the snow that continues to fall, even at this very moment. Fifth: the death of a beloved Prophet who had such an extraordinary impact on, not only myself, but also the world. I spoke about mourning the loss of a relationship in an earlier blog. Instead of my zombified state, I would like to focus on the memories that have flooded me since the dreaded announcement on Sunday.

Few of you know that President Hinckley reminded me of my own Grandpa. They both had a zest for life, a sense of humor that brought a smile to the saddest face. There was a strong resemblance in their features as well. As a child, I would ask my mom, "Why is Grandpa on TV?" "That's not Grandpa. That's Elder Gordon B. Hinckley." My favor was obtained. I was too young to grasp the depth of the words he spoke, but he spoke them as my Grandpa would. Granted, he spoke with much more eloquence than a farmer from Idaho, but in my mind they were "brothers". There was, regretfully, a drastic change in my Grandfather that occurred at the death of his wife.

My Grandma was one of my best friends. As active children, my siblings and I would constantly be doing things. Grandma (and Grandpa) came to each of these events: soccer games, plays, concerts, birthday parties, the list goes on. For those of you that know music, you may find this a shock. My mom taught me to sing harmony before I ever learned how to sing melody. As a first soprano...that's unheard of. She told me that her mom and dad did the same thing for her. My grandparents had been in a band (of sorts) in Idaho, my Grandma at the piano and my Grandpa on the saxophone. Later in life, they played for church dances together. As young children of 9, 7, and 3 (that's me), our Grandma would take us to sing at Nursing Homes, church meetings, and senior functions to keep those traditions alive. This developed an unbreakable bond (geasher, rye-guy...remember the rings?). My senior year, my sister was married. They, despite her frailty, played for the final time together. She would have been to my graduation ceremony, but we convinced her to stay home (she was 89 and the location was full of stairs). As a tribute to her, I must let you know that she was the ward organist for 70 years and she played for the congregation the week before she died. She passed away a month after my birthday, to the day.

It was heartbreaking. My friend wrote a blog once about loneliness and, I admit I've felt it many times during my life. But this was one of the hardest times I've ever had to face. I'm going to share with you a dear memory. We were at her house the week before she entered the hospital. She turned to me and said that she was afraid to die. I'll never know why she told me that, but I responded, "Don't worry, Grandma. I'll hold your hand." She went downhill very fast. It was torture watching her stats drop slowly. That week was, obviously, one I'll never forget. Even so, she kept her sense of humor to the end (either that or it was the morphine. Probably both.) My mom and sister had left the room and I was given a few blessed minutes with my closest friend. She was heavily sedated, but I knew it would be my last time alone with her. I said, "Grandma, I just want you to know that I love you so much." Her reply (I love this in more ways than one), "I love you too...two...shoe. I have TWO feet!" Morphine, you've got to love it!

After she was gone, my Grandpa went through a change, as did I. He became exceedingly grumpy and introverted. His "President Hinckley persona" was gone. He stopped enduring to the end and started waiting to die. It was harder watching him go through this alteration than losing my Grandma. She was in a better place. She was no longer in pain. He was experiencing the worst kind of loss, a wife of 64 years, his best friend. He entered a deep depression. I allowed the extreme loneliness to surround me. Have you ever had something happen in your life that pierced you deeply and no one was there for you? This was one of those times for me. Yes, my family was there for me, but each had someone to lean on. My mom had my dad, my sister had her husband, my brother had his girlfriend, and I had...no one (I had the Lord, but I wanted a physical person to share my grief). My Grandma was usually the one I leaned on and that wasn't a possibility anymore. My thinking, "My friends will comfort me. They know how hard this is and they will let me cry on their shoulders." Not one of my friends showed me any remorse. They acted as if nothing had happened. My pain was nothing to them. Therefore, I was nothing to them. All association was cut off. I climbed into myself, not unlike my Grandpa. Bitter is the word that is printed across this period of my life.

I have evolved in a way that I never thought possible. I've done an about face. I am grateful for the time of mourning, the time of loneliness. Looking back, I see how the Lord carried me through a dark time. It has taken me years to trust people (friends) again. Those who are closest to me should feel wonderful about themselves. I open up more with them than I ever thought I'd do again (and am continuing to open the cage I mentioned in a previous blog. It's a good feeling). I am so happy knowing that when I allow the Lord into my life, I'm never alone. My Grandma and Grandpa are together again, as are President and Sister Hinckley. The pain of watching each one exit this world is nothing compared to the joy of knowing they completed the ultimate mission. Life. I find it ironic that I referred to myself as the walking dead. I'm just plain tired. I am excited to continue with the life given me. Like those four amazing people, I will endure to the end! But if I start getting impatient, just give me a little morphine. That always does the trick.

A Night of Fun

Is it wrong to write about the same topic as a friend? If it is so, I am writing illegally. My friend, Janel, wrote briefly about the topic of a Girls' Night out and I will attempt the same. Isn't it such a blessing to have friends with whom you can share thoughts? I almost feel bad, dumping my pain, anger, frustration, excitement, and confusion with these wonderful ladies. Yet, they accept me, even with my insecurities. And chocolate, oh the sweet kiss of a secret lover. My friend said that chocolate has all the qualities of a good boyfriend. However, I would NOT want to kiss chocolate. The evidence would be all over your face. I find it comforting that so many other girls feel the same way. To have a shoulder (or two) to lean on...it's nice. Yesterday offered me much solace. Ladies, I thank you!

There is another topic I wish to touch on. Towels. (My brain must be having one of its frequent spasms.) After our chocolate escapade, we returned to my friend’s house to indulge in a chick flick. I asked to use her bathroom and upon entry was stopped in my tracks. There, hanging on the rack was about 12 different towels. They were layered, biggest to smallest. Each had Valentine insignia. I realize that this is a common decorating technique. I find it a waste of fine linen. It was refreshing as I gazed at the towels in my own bathroom. Each could be used, not just admired. My favorite being the Little Mermaid towel hanging for the entire world to see (If the entire world happened to visit our bathroom. That's not awkward at all.). In decorative bathrooms (not that they're bad. They are, in fact, very pleasing to the eye), I find myself asking the question, "Where do I wipe my hands? I don't want to ruin their nice towels with...water." Oh, the humanity of it all. Why does the bathroom have to be another exhibit of status? We are a normal American family. If we wanted to create mountains of decorative bathroom towels, I admit, they would have a theme. Cartoon characters. I can see it now. At the bottom would be The Little Mermaid followed by Mickey Mouse. The finishing touch would be none other than the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Now wouldn't THAT be a sight to see? There would be none of this mushy Valentine nonsense. Valentine's is a holiday for the greeting card companies, but that is a subject for another time...possibly Valentine's Day.

I enjoyed the evening, needless to say, even though every turn in my friends house had some reference to love, Valentine's Day, etc. I think we all need those nights to clear our shoulders of ever-mounting bricks. Women of the world UNITE! Actually, I think that would be really scary. Never mind. I just had a vision of a mob of women throwing high-heeled shoes and screeching like banshees in the night. Frightening, but no more frightening than a lack of chocolate and fifteen towels that can't be used.

Imagination

As I drove home today, I noticed a mound of whipped cream over the mountains. I looked to the right and saw a floating frog. Just now, I glanced out of my window and there was an arm tightly grasping a hammer. Out my front door, an arrow was pointing to the west. Is this my imagination or can clouds tell us stories? (Word to the wise, don't check out clouds while you're driving. I had a few close calls. *Whew*). You may be asking, how can a visible mass of condensed droplets tell a story? I don't know, but they do to me.

I love watching the sky. One minute, wispy cirrus clouds leave a mark similar to that of foam from the ocean. The next, a towering giant (cumulonimbus) pours angrily across like a tidal wave. Some of my favorite clouds are the stratus, which look like dollops of heavy cream (or marshmallows, if you will) ready to be devoured. I have always enjoyed reading outside. There's something about good literature and nature that I find appealing. However, sometimes I find myself setting the book down and watching the vicissitude of the sky.

As one who has long hair, I've never relished the wind. I usually end up with a mouthful of hair whenever I leave the house. But have you ever sat and watched the clouds during a strong wind? The speed that they pass by...it's incredible. I must confess, if I had the opportunity, I would probably be a storm chaser. I have an abnormal fascination with weather and natural disasters (i.e. volcanoes, earthquakes). Normal people probably see ornery cumulonimbus clouds and get nervous. "Oh, no. I HATE thunderstorms." Excitement is what I feel. From the dark, menacing underbelly, to the majestic overhang of the anvil, I find them beautiful. As a child (I've shared a lot about my childhood. Hmmm. Oh well!), my mom, my brother and I would sit on the porch and watch storms. Rainstorms, thunderstorms, electrical storms...you name it (one that happens in Utah, that is), we probably watched it. Have you ever watched an electrical storm? The scintillating bolts leap eerily across the clouds. These are rare storms. I've only seen a few and yet they rank on my list of favorite weather anomalies. Why? They are silent. In some cases, there is no thunder due to the distance and the cloud-to-cloud arching of the lightning. The electricity snakes across the clouds, showing each intricate detail. The display from these clouds is, indeed, toward the top of my list.

Have you ever watched a beautiful sunrise or sunset? I enjoy this activity particularly. What I revel in is the colors. I'll never forget the day I looked out the window and saw the most beautiful sunset. I ran outside (with my camera) and soaked in the intense colors. The effect was like unto a rainbow. At the horizon, there was a deep, luscious red that blended into a vibrant orange. As my gaze lifted the orange softened until it met the clouds. They were purple, straight from the crayon box, the doodle of a child. You know the kind, where the kid is angry and presses the crayon so hard it snaps. That purple transfused with blue, creating a color that could never be duplicated. Looking straight up, the clouds were stained with this inimitable shade. The pictures don't do justice.

And so, I invite you to let your imagination run wild. The next time you leave your house, pay attention to the marvelous show above you. But remember...don't watch the clouds while you're driving.