seven and twenty

In college, my friend Moosh had a roommate who was 26 or 27 and we thought she was old enough to be our mom. Maybe bc she was uptight. I think she taught school, and was angry, and would make us do things like clean up when we made a mess and shut up if we were shouting.

Of course, looking back, she probably wasn't uptight. WE were just obnoxious. If me-now met me-then, I would strangle me-then. Me-then did things like videotape myself driving around with people on the roof of my 1988 car, and get hickies, and get those horrible airhorns for no apparent reason. I know. So, sorry about that, girl we thought was old when really she was just normal.

Anyway, welp, today I turn(ed) 27. It feels pretty good and not as uptight as I once thought it was. If you want to celebrate my aging, you can do so with a nap and then a treat of your choice. I recommend cookie dough, a large wonderful soda, or one of those big delicious mall pretzels, which I had today after I bought some pants that I thought were on sale for $20 but then they magically rang up as $3 as a present from the planet.

P.S. On my mission, my birthday was on a rainy fast Sunday which is the longest most miserable day on missions. It was a bummer day, but at the end of it, we met these two roommates who seemed really interested and we were sure we would teach them and probably go to the temple with them in a year. We high-fived ourselves and considered them my birthday present from the planet.

But then, it turned out that they were a gay couple and not interested.

So, I'm hoping these pants don't turn out the same way.

confession

Sometimes, I like watching Wife Swap.

completely true story

This post is inspired by the illustrious MCB, who makes me wish in a sick sort of way that I'd read anything by Jack Weyland in my life.

When I was 19, I briefly dated a 24-year-old fellow who was nice enough, although looking back, I can see that he sort of resembled a reptile or kind cartoon turtle. Why he thought it was normal to date someone fresh out of high school is sort of gross now, but at the time I thought it was hot.

We once had the following bizarre exchange:

Him: "How many books have you read?"

Me: "What?"

Him: "How many books have you read?"

Me, thinking what the hell kind of a question is that? This year? In college? In a particular genre? He can't possibly mean IN MY LIFE. Note that I used to get grounded FROM reading and have to go outside to play, so in elementary school alone I probably read thirty million books...: You mean, ever?

Him: Yes, ever. In your life.

Me, giving him the where-am-I stare: Um, a zillion? (long pause while I wonder where this is going) How many books have YOU read?

He then told me that the only book that he had read cover to cover IN HIS TWENTY-FOUR YEARS OF LIFE, including high school when he just read CliffsNotes, was...









Charly.


Weird it didn't work out between us.

Updated: Though (obviously) not much of a reader, this fellow had many other redeeming qualities which is why we went out in the first place. This story, however, involves facts, which speak for themselves. No offense intended to my friend who set us up. And who is also his sister. Whooooops.

and another thing

I'm posting twice in a row, but don't let this new post stop you from reading the serious post below and nodding knowingly.

However, I have been catching up in blogland and was just wondering: What is the deal with cruises? Have you been on one? If so, why? Do you get claustrophobic? What is the difference, if any, between a cruise and a week-long all you can eat buffet with tanning lamps?

I don't know. I just don't know.

click on the first line for a slew of church commercials

"Isn't it about....(long pause)....TIME?"

Yes, yes it is. I haven't had any of it in a long time and now I have tons. Not like I sit around making our 17-month-old massage my feet and feed me grapes. Taking care of our kid full-time while I grow another one isn't exactly free time, but it IS flexible time and more than I'm used to.

A law school friend once told me, "I don't want to have kids for a while because I need some ME time," which I didn't really understand but respected. I thought of it today as I realized that my whole life has been me time. Twenty years of school, and who has benefited so far? ME. Did I work? Yes. To pay for ME and MY life and MY stuff. Sure, I served a mission, but even that benefited ME and I went because I wanted to. ME ME ME. And law school is, in many ways, a very selfish period of time. Sure, it's an investment in the future (learn now so you can help later) but it's still ME ME ME ME ME.

And I've just always been over-scheduled, which has been fine but a little hectic. And now, as I enter this bizarre new period of my life, I'm just as busy but not as scheduled, so I'm up for random service opportunities in ways I haven't been before. Can I bring randoms dinner? You bet. Can I watch people's kids while they nap/take a class/recover from chemo? Sure. Not every day, of course. But I love that I'm not stretched too thin right now. That I don't have forty things hanging over my head. That I can wake up and think about what my kid needs from me and worry about HER and HER needs, and help others out here and there as everyday, last-minute stuff arises without hyperventilating or feeling crazy-frazzled.

I haven't been in this position before. It's new and temporary and I like it.

Am I an ever-helpful saint? Nope. And will it stay this way forever? Of course not. But I like that if my buddy's childcare plans fall through for the day, I don't shrug and wish I could help as I rush off to a presentation or class or a study group. I like that if someone needs dinner or a ride, I'm down, and I don't have to bail on anything pressing to do it.

Maybe in all my bustling around I've really been missing out. Anyway, this marks a shift for me, and I like it.

Cheers.

does public e-prayer make me a pharisee?

Dear God,

Thank you for letting me pass the bar exam.

Sincerely,
Gurrbonzo

yappity yap

• I swear to you our kid gets cuter every day. Frankly, her cuteness is ridiculous. I've spent the majority of the week pretending to chase her around. I say "pretend" because I just have to act like I'm going to chase her, and then she'll cackle and shriek and run around the house and I just make noises and move slightly and then she comes back to me, like this joyful toddler boomerang.
  
• I busted out the maternity clothes this week. I put it off for a while, but the time is here. Unfortunately, I remain in the awkward limbo stage of pregnancy where my shirt choices are monstrous tent or leeeetle too snug, but I shall carry on. Sometimes I realize that we're going to have another kid and I can't help but grin. No wonder all these people have been having kids for so long. Turns out reproduction rocks.
  
• My brother and his hilarious fam came for a visit last week which was deeeeelightful, and we did lots of fun things like run around the city and eat and paint and blahblah. I asked the kids what their favorite part was (expecting they'd say the children's museum, or the awesome park downtown), and to my delight and amazement, they said, "The backyard!" and it melted my cold heart.
• A friend of mine, lamenting the number of her acquaintances who look identical, recently said, "If you have blonde hair and are over 20, you're a liar or an albino." BAHAHA!
• And finally, a lot of stuff in the ABA Journal can be semi-interesting. It provides easy, surface intros to some of the latest goings-on, like crazy settlements or huge layoffs or what have you. But every now and again, you run into a treat of an article like this one, with "consultants" offering older interviewees groundbreaking advice like (kid you not), "Ditch the combover or toupee," and "Try not to date yourself by saying things like 'in my day' or 'when I started out,'" and "Don't refer to women as 'gals.'" Wow. Great insight. No wonder you get PAID to give this advice. Every time I think about it, it gives me the giggles.
  

I'll stop my grumbles soon, but this must be said.

There's something you should know.

These are not decorations.
These look like hostages.

non-negotiable

A candidate for a local school board position has signs up all over the place around here. I'm sure this person has a lot going for him or her, and clearly he or she has a lot of support in the community bc those signs are everywhere. But I cannot support this candidate on principle. Why?




There are a few basic, unarguable facts of life. The sun rises in the east. Property law is boring. Most people should wear deodorant. Babies need naps. Cheese improves most foods. And, HORRIBLE FONTS ARE DEAL-BREAKERS.

ESPECIALLY if you are running for the freaking SCHOOL BOARD and on your signs, your name begins with a cutesie lowercase letter. You should not be in charge of education decisions for my kid if you don't understand that proper nouns must be capitalized. Save your barftastic font for your freaking family home evening board if you must, but for public use:


Thank you for your time.