Luck-o-Rama

When I was in Ohio, my family went to P.F. Changs. There were over 20 little fortune cookie messages on the table as we were leaving and on an impulse I collected them. Some of them were really lame so I wanted to share the lameness as I'm a very sharing person. Well, that was a month ago and I'm down to 7. But seven is a lucky number. Speaking of lucky numbers, here are the ones offered on each fortune message:

20.22.35.38.39.48.28.9.10.24.34.21.24.7.28.14.6.9.13.23.36.
37.43.45.24.34.41.2.40.9.33.15.48.66.43.8.33.21.15.11.47.8.

You are a practical person with your feet on the ground
A lifetime friend shall soon be made
A great man never ignores the simplicity of a child
To be mature is to accept imperfections
A new voyage will fill your life with untold memories
As a cure for worry, work is better than whiskey
Don't be afraid of fear

So, indeed, how wonderful. Then, on the back we can learn Chinese!!!! But only five of the fortunes help us with that:

May: Wu-yue
Fish: Yu
March: San-yue
April: Si-yue

okay, and one of them was a repeat. There, I finally can throw these things away!

I just found three more.

Be careful to not overspend.
Apply your imaginations to any problem that arises.

And finally and fittingly,

Accept your independence and use it wisely.

I do and I will. Happy 4th of July, that day we launched out on our own.

Daughter: Nu-er
Store: Shang-dian

"My Nu-er bought Yu at the Shang-dian in Si-yue"

Scotland Days

I went to a place in Utah called Thanksgiving Point where dozens of events commence daily. The other day one such event was called something like Highland Scottish Games.....but I can't remember exactly so I call it Scotland Days. My dad went to Scotland on a mission for my church and so I've tasted a tiny bit of (I don't know in the slightest how to spell this word so we'll go with phonetics) shalaylee :) and bagpipe and plaid clothing. But this festival took the haggis. Dancing, bagpipes, sheepherding, dog events, the sheep toss, caber tossing, etc. We saw the world record tie in the mens sheep toss. they take a 20-ish pound sack of hay, stick it with pitch fork and attempt to pitch it over their heads and over a raised bar. You know, pole vaulting for hay (I wonder if they used small sheep at first--omitting use of pitchfork--for it to have that name). Everyone has their own technique and these burly Scots throw it amazing heights. The world record is apparently 35'6" ....I think. I'm sure someone could prove me wrong real quick. I don't want to research it at the moment. Well, maybe that was the height the two competitors were trying to beat the lesser height world record. Anyway, that's hight to toss a bale of hay with a pitchfork. The girls competed too and some couldn't make it 14' which from looking at them looked so easy, but I bet I'd stink at it. The Caber toss is sweet. These big ol' lads take a light pole, pretty much, and run full speed ahead, balancing it in their hands and gut straigt in the air. the idea is to throw it so it lands on its head then flops over as straight as possible out infront of the tosser. like so:
Make sense? :)
Then, the other heavy weight game they played was tossing a heavy weight over a bar, you know, like pole vaulting for heavy weights. It sure was interesting to watch. Oh, and every participant in the games has to wear a kilt, remember. Oh yeah, there was one more game I saw. Just the shot put, really, with a big polished rock. Great times.
It will come as no surprise to most that I got sunburned as my friends and I walked around for hours. Of all the Scottish things there were to purchase there, I bought a hotdog, scone, and later a snow cone. There was one tent filled with things to buy that had old books. I like old things. Everything old has so many stories it could tell, I'm sure. But old books? Sweeeeet. I love books altogether. So old books win the grand prize of my love and attention. Anyway, I got sunburned and now my arm is tanned in layers since I got sunburned before with a longer sleeve shirt on. It's kinda neat. But, talking about it here I see is becoming very boring.
So, I'd love to go to Scotland someday. The whole Great Britain place would be pretty sweet to visit. Next time you're going, let me know. Thanks!

(p.s. the photos take you to some wonderful sites!)

The Devil and I

Nothing terrible happened to me today, 6/6/06. Unless you count meeting the Devil as a terrible thing. It wasn't altogether pleasant -- I wouldn't choose for it to happen again. But, I escaped unscathed, so fine enough. Here's how it went:

I'm walking. It's a warm summer day and in the distance roads have puddles of mirage that cars swim through without a splash. I look at this for I rather like to, but it started pulsating like I haven't seen before so I stopped to see if it was my walking that caused it. No.

Like a lump of lava from the bottom of its lamp, a form bulged from the heat into an upright adult figure on the sidewalk before me. I gave it a curious stare and blinked, slowly one eye, then the other. When I snapped them open again it was advancing with a languid motion, enough to make me feel suddenly car sick without moving. He stopped (I could tell now the form was "he" if anything human) and said,
"Good afternoon, I am the Devil."
Good afternoon? What do you say to that?
"Hi," is all I came up with. He still had the look of a comic book fiend, slightly fuzzy around the edges and pouring heat insomuch that he appeared to be shimmering where he stood.
"I am aware that you silly mortals have superstitions with the number 666."
The formality of his matter of fact tone was quite chilly.
"Some do, yes."
"Yes, I know. I thought it would be fun to walk around today, cause a little panic."
As if he was shopping.
"What brings you to Provo...." (Sir? no, I wouldn't go that far.)
"Oh the Mormons, surely. So many around here that believe that I exist. Thought I'd do a little manifesting."
"I'm a mormon."
"Yes, I know."
I thought maybe now his manifesting might involve physical harm and was sorely tempted to see how much get-away time kicking his form might provide me. I imagined, though, that it might be as fruitful as kicking the flames of a fire--the chances were only I'd get hurt.
"So," I'm stalling now. "Does this mean I'm like...possessed if I can see you?"
"Oh, no." He said casually and with a slight hollow chuckle.
"Sweet." Pause. Not much of a conversationalist for how persuasive he's intended to be. I didn't know what to say to the Devil. I'd never thought I'd meet him, ever in person. Sure there's the crap he pulls on me where he's always behind the scenes: "do this, try that." But I mean, what do you say when he's right there in front of you?
"Well, I was on my way to work. I don't want to be late. If you'll excuse me." I said, motioning past him down the sidewalk. No "nice to meet you" would be necessary.
"Sure." He said, moving sideways so I could pass.
A little hesitant to let him out of my sight, I also turned sideways and scuttled past, close to the curb.
"I'll be seeing you." And he more or less evaporated as he walked away.
As warm as 90 degrees can be, my skin rippled as I watched him, glanced all around me and went to work.

Trip to Ohio

My grandpa calls my grandma "Mother." That or Diane. I usually hear the former. It's what she is, ten times over, and a grand one 18 times over, and a greatgrand one twice.

She has nice ankles and great calves. That's kinda weird for me to say, but it's weird for her to have, I say. She hates exercise so she rarely does, but she needs to a bit for her diabetes, ya know. But she has great calves. I got a little jealous seeing them sticking out of her night gown when we got ready for bed. She'd kill me if she knew I was putting this in any place public. When she sees a picture of herself she doesn't like, she tosses it behind the piano. No joke.

We slept three times in motels. Twice on the way there, once on the way back. We difinitely spent more time in the car than out of it last week.

We went to a barbeque an hour round trip. On tuesday we went to a pottery warehouse, an hour there. Afterward we went to Amish country another two hours. We went through Davenport, got pictures with the biggest basket in the world. Amish country was nice. We mostly went for the popcorn. Amazing little tiny "lady finger" popcorn. My mom got 100 pounds of it. yumhundred! We also bought strawberries that kill the dull life instantly. don't know how they did, but did they did. And some fruit turnover pies. Everything should be made by the amish. Let's make an ammendment.

My mom's lame-o van is new and smooth and it always makes me car sick. Two hours back home. But not before we stop about five more times. One stop was the longest covered bridge in ohio. Can't plan a trip anywhere without a dozen unplanned stops. That's just a given. As given as getting a late start every day. Day one we "planned" to leave 2:00pm at the latest. 6:00pm. Not kidding. And anyway, I was feeling unhealthy the whole trip. Car sick for one. Eating fast food for two. Nasty tap water and no water bottles. I almost died. It was humid 90% or more and 80 or 90 degrees along with that. talk about rivers of sweat. go ahead, talk about 'em. could be an interesting conversation in the end.

On Wednesday we went to Cedar Point. Big ol' amusement park on Lake Erie. Also went to the United States' last existing Copper Kettle museum where they still make them by hand. That was such a cool place. Called.....picking & co? or something. Those kettles will cost you a pretty copper penny. a little tiny like 20oz one costs $80 dollars. but it was sweeeeeet! it's hundreds of years old and all that, and there were little trinkets from the first owner's personal life -- flame powered fans, rocking horse, a giant "monkey turning music box" thing, just amazing old things. I loved it. I love stories and each one of those had a great one, I'm sure.

The amusement park was 5 hours round trip. We also went to a lighthouse and a flavored popcorn store. It's weird to taste your "competition" and realize yours is soooo much better. Just in fact, not in my opinion, though both confirm.

My uncle graduated from medical school on Thursday. I am grateful for doctors!!!!!!! He has a devotedly organized wife. Devoted to him, and organization fully. And together they have four interesting adorable kids. Emily
(named after her brilliant foremother-cousin), Lindsey (who spells her name correctly...and infact in a perfect mirror image of the left-to-right version with her left hand. She's ambidexterous. She's a sass, too. fiesty, that one), Jack (named after grandpa, born early/miracle baby, sports fanatic), and Kate (adorable times a million, I'm her favorite).

And anyway, I had a wonderful time in Ohio. Thinking back, I missed water the most. Water, water in the air, everywhere, but not a drop to drink. So, the end.

Up to Date

Howdy. Here are a few things that have been through my brain lately.

School buses aren't yellow. Lemons are, post-it notes are, boogers when you're sick are....but school buses aren't. Lines on the road, the double solid lines, ya know, aren't yellow. They're school bus colored. And school buses are the color of macaroni and cheese. Or easy squeeze cheese. Velveeta. Not yellow.

But still, those cheesy colors are quite noticeable. You'd think. People are so dumb. I'm really just amazed at who's allowed to drive. Parents are the mostly dumb. There was a parent stopped, waiting for his one pimply kid, in my spot. A spot that says "bus loading only." So, I boxed him in. I'm sick of it. Tell your nasty kid to meet you somewhere else. I've got 60 kids to load, you have one. Who's more important? Me, that's right. He inched his way out of my trap, but not before he called me a pretty name. The name of a place he can kiss for all I care. Which is none. None caring.

Make room for me. I accelerate slowly, yes. But I DO come to a stop slowly. I understand you don't want to be caught behind my exhaust dumping, butt-slow mode of transportation, but cutting me off is unwise. I'm patient, but I have power. I get your license plate and I could accuse you of much. Just be careful. But again, I'm patient. And again, no caring.

My mom bought cheap toilet paper. You know how tissues for your boogers come in layers? Even cheap tissues come in layers. If you peeled that tissue to it's last thread of whatever it is, that's our toilet paper. Worse than that of churches, or restaurants, or back-of-a-tour bus bathrooms. But it is better than nothing....kind of.

Twistie ties are valuable. It used to be that I'd throw them away like stale pretzels. Now since I use them, a lot of them, and never can find enough, I save them wherever I see them. Even where I won't ever use it, I save it. They are dear to me now. It's strange.

It's funny how my body refuses to get hungry since my throat is sore. Swallowing hurts. So my stomach must be friends with my throat (they have a special connection) because I'm not hungry so I don't have to swallow. I'm sick, I can't swallow, I'm not hungry. I'll probably lose some weight again.

I've been seeing the time 10:01 a lot lately. Never on purpose. It's cool, as it's a numerical palindrome, but my favorite is still mysteriously 9:23.

And that's it for now, more or less. Good times as a bus driver! I get to drive a field trip today! huzzah.

Random Conversation

Em: "Do you think cannibals drink urine?"

Ty: "I don't know. It seems it would be the beverage of choice."

What a day

It's April 6th, right? Right. I say it's not supposed to snow on April 6th, right? Of course I'm right. But it snowed anyway. It's sopping outside. Slush is piled on the roads and sidewalks. If it wasn't sleeting and freezing out, I'd go stomp them like I was a giant flattening mountains at leisure. I love how slush piles explode under foot. Lovely feeling of harmless destruction.

I went longboarding for the first time in my life on Monday!

These are a bunch of words that supposedly describe me! (bold totally describe me)

introverted, secretive, reclusive, tough, non social, observer, fearless, solitary, libertarian, detached, does not like to lead, outsider, abides the rules, mind over heart, good at saving money, does not like to stand out, does not make friends easily, self sufficient, not aggressive, likes the unknown, unconcerned with external opinion, strong, abstract, independent, very intellectual, analytical, high self control

I took a silly personality test. I disagree with whatever answers brought out "mind over heart." I can never get those two to get along. but the rest sound pretty good. I might add wonderful and funny, too, but you know, those tests are limited.

Good Night

I could die happy. Smelly, but happy. It's a beautiful 62 degree night with winds up to 20 mph. On a previous post I listed a few of my favorite things, one of which is jumping on the trampoline when it's windy. Tonight I did.

The wind knows my skinny arms won't take me higher than my legs will thrust me but still it swirled and held me high as long as it could. A slide show of heights and far away places I've never been swept around me, postcards from the wind. Jumping makes me younger. The wind slips into my lungs meaning to continue on its way but it propels my chest to sail in its wake. It escapes a bit drained and rolls on its way. I'm gratefully invigorated and steal breath after breath of flight. I cannot inhale forever, I cannot fly. My legs tired and I sat. I do not remember the bouncing, only flying; short visits in the sky. Breezes erase the sky's memory and my strange visits were each welcomed new.

I don't wish to really fly. I can be as the strong pine: planted and combing the wandering air. Flying without leaving the ground.

oh you know, whatever

My lips are about to plop on the ground because I've been eating sunflower seeds for more than an hour, sitting at my mom's shoe store, doing very little else. Soon I'll pop in the French CDrom things so I can hear what it sounds like to say such things as the alphabet or "please take [these sunflower seeds] away from me," etc. The salt is eroding my lips rather than preserving them. Just like eating too much pineapple. You don't want to stop because it's heaven's sweetest offering, but after too soon you no longer have a tongue to taste it with.
Tomorrow and Saturday I will be attending a writer's conference. They offer 8 workshop times with three optional classes of which I may only choose one. I'm sad because I want to create another of myself, lend it some brain and send it to the other classes I want to attend at the same hour as the other classes I will attend, but I can't. This calls for an "alas."
When I get back to blogging after those fun filled days I'll post the best piece of prose I ever have. I just know it. In the mean time, I'm going to sit here, at the store and think of a million other things I could post here. But since I'm bored, little boring pieces of me would filter through my fingers and type all the boring letters on the keyboard, and no one would be happy. So I'm going to leave. Eat. mmmm bon appetit!