_______Lines_______

Measure height, width, length and age
Make dark clouds shimmer
Transport communication
Determine the score
Assemble and wait
Govern the road
Notify the world
Rule our paper
Display history
Assign victory
Divide issues
Bottom
Power
Under
Out
B

Look,

If you take this away
If you take away If
you take away you
take away
away.

A Few of my Least Favorite Things

In honor, somehow, of a new year I treat you to an incomplete list of my dislikes....with a cherry on top...

cherries. well, I like real cherries, but not maraschino cherries (except the stems I can tie with my tongue), cherry flavored candies (excepting candy canes) or other cherry smelling things.

the fact that when I try to think of something random, the first thing that always comes to mind is always watermelon...

when I cry when I'm too frustrated to speak to stand up for myself.

events that merit the phrase: "oh, that so didn't need to happen."

not noticing the expiration date on coupons before check out.

assumption and unnecessary stress from text conversations.

clothes sticking to the body because of excess heat/sweat.

a lack of hand drying instruments in public restrooms.

people that criticize what they know nothing about.

cooking time left on the microwave clock display.

opening the door after putting lotion on hands.

crooked things, i.e. quilts, picture frames, etc.

undesirable people that sit undesirably close.

people that can't admit when they're wrong.

watching movies/television during the day.

incorrect usage of they're, their and there.

the spot in my back that is always sore.

that feeling of remembering too late.

pushy sales people/telemarketers.

people that talk during movies.

sleeping through the alarm.

bored tow truck drivers.

sneezing while driving.

the wrong jelly belly.

when I can't sleep.

sleeping too late.

biting my lip.

lipstick.

gossip!

lies.

lol

Picture-Wrapped Christmas

It being Christmas time and all, I thought of this random poem I once wrote (in a random September), here. I came to write a post and that's the first thing that came to mind. So, anyway.....

I had a super Christmas time. It was great fun seeing my siblings open the gifts I gave them. I got a sweet blender from my brother. I wasn't expecting that and was totally pleased! I'm very spoiled! But to keep as much of me as I can from really spoiling and going to waste, I share and help and serve.

I had some great experiences that made me feel some of that good ol' Christmas spirit. I went to St. George and was praying to my Father in Heaven if He would be mindful of me and help me have what is often called "a missionary experience" by those of my faith. Well, it totally worked, and I was so grateful for an answered proactive prayer.


I also saw Aurore Mathieu, a full time sister missionary in the Utah Provo mission, that I had met in France. Indeed, we had served together, I as a full-time sister, and she as a mini missionary, when I was in Nimes. Also, I started and finished my mission in the same city, where she lived and went to school. So we got to see a lot of each other when I was in France. Then she was called to Provo! Her sister let me know, via facebook, that she was in St. George (I had no idea!) and I went and saw her. Boy was she surprised! It was awesome.


It has snowed like crazy here in Utah! It really isn't surprising. But that always helps the season feel more just right. Also, one particularly poopy-mood day, I went to my FHE (family home evening) activity, and it was making gingerbread houses. I think it was my parents' looming divorce that just made me feeling bleh. Well, I started constructing, and I had the idea to make a gingerbread bridge. The others made train cars (one in honor of school buses). It was fun. During the process, it felt as though my troubles washed right under. Friends and fun can just help us remember good things more than the bad.




A couple weeks before Christmas, my roommate Heather enlisted us in a sub for Santa activity for a family of one of the girls in her first grade class. We collected money, presents, a tree, and lots of food, and made the tree practically edible. I made popcorn balls and also red (watermelon) and green (lime) popcorn that we strung together, and there were gingerbread cookies and oranges for ornaments. We wrapped most of the items, then filled three baskets with toys, one basket for each girl. The time came to deliver and the family was greatly surprised and very happy to have a tree that they wouldn't have had otherwise.






I also made popcorn for a bunch of people who bought it from me the week before Christmas. With the money I made I was able to purchase all my family's presents. It worked out really well. I love popcorn!


It was fun to have my nephew come over and open gifts with his mommy. He mostly climbed on the presents while mom "helped" him open them. He was so excited by each one, repeatedly getting distracted from one glance to the next. I gave him a book in the shape of a school bus (which he loves--and I never mentioned that sometimes I would stop by his house in my big school bus. He loved that. So he squealed when he saw the book and started driving it around, not realizing it was also a book). He's so cute. I guess all that fun made him tired, too!

Dozing

Somewhere between wanting nothing more than to punch something
And wanting nothing
I went to the gym.
I pedaled hard.

Done already.

Auto pilot drove me home.
Sweet parking spot.

Lucky for me everyone knows I love them
For moments when I bulldoze
Auto pilot, no pilot,
uncaring.

The shower head spouts from the wall below my head.
Hot water.
My Body.
Is steaming.

Bored.
I rest my elbow on the shower ledge.
I Prop my chin in my hand.
The water traces my back, my calves,
Swirling at my ankles.

I don't know why
I don't care.

Lucky for me sleep washes
Away my don't cares.

A bulldozer will flatten
Weeds for a little while.

The world is not a snow globe.

On mornings of snow like this,
I imagine the world has frosted over.
It's not safe to drive a world that He can't see through the atmosphere.
Like from a great big school bus windshield he scrapes the frost away.
The shavings drift down to frost our cheeks with kisses that whisper
He is looking on and He loves us.
Don't forget me,
He reminds
As the flake melts away.

I'm Procrastinating Again.

It's not like I'm out of ideas or that my novel is at a point where I'm stuck. . .I actually just stopped typing mid-dialogue. I hope my characters don't sense my disinterest for the moment. I'm just tired of thinking so much about them, so I want to think of myself. Me. Moi.

I participated in a self defense class this morning and my hand hurts. We were locating "control points" and I may have pressed too hard on the one in my hand. You know, that meaty part between the pointer finger and the thumb. My hand hurts. Ma main me fait mal.

I parted my hair on the unusual side yesterday and today. I don't particularly like it. Nobody noticed. But I wouldn't expect them to. Personne n'a remarqué.

I found a bunch of heart-shaped leaves after my morning run and thought I should collect some and sprinkle them upon someone I love. So I did. I put them on his car with a note that said "I (heart leaf) Devin" on it under the windshield wiper. It made me happy. Ça m'a rendu heureuse.

I find it interesting that like and love get mixed up in meaning. I love my guy friends but I can't love one guy friend in particular until I've liked him long enough to know him enough to love him. For example, I can say "I love Kevin," because he's just a friend. But I can't say, "I love Ken," because I like him...more than a friend. I can only say stuff like "Ken is a great guy," because if I said "I love Ken," then I'd feel weird, because I like him. Does it make sense? Est-ce que ça a de sense?

I will not watch the Twilight movie. Je ne regarderai pas le film Twilight.

I don't have a boyfriend anymore. We broke up October 1st. It sucked at first and sometimes I got reeeeally bored and lonely. And now I'm fine, but I still get really bored. I become slightly curious when weekend after empty weekend comes and goes. I'm afraid I put off a "don't touch me" sort of vibe somehow. Well, I'm not an extremely touchy person myself (until I am dating someone) so maybe that is interpreted as me being someone that doesn't want to be touched. But really I'm just a devoted kind of gal, so I don't go prostituting back scratches etc. for just anyone. Maybe-- no, no maybe. I suck at flirting, that's for sure. c'est sûr.
And I'm tall. I'm pretty convinced some guys are stunned by that. Every time they're near enough to size themselves up, their minds blank and they just sort of walk away. Not my fault how tall I am. Besides, I love it. I guess it just weeds out the insecure. So if I were to answer the question that's actually been posed many times recently, "Why aren't you out on some hot date?" I really don't know. Je ne sais vraiment pas.

My nose has the hiccups. It twitches as though it itches to make me join a brood of witches. And it seems fitting since I'm transmitting a story about witches for my novel. And see, it comes again to the novel that I'm neglecting. I'm bored. Je m'ennuie.

(This post contains 555 words, not including this line, that will not go into my novel.)

There are times, now and again, when a really nasty batch of Macaroni and Cheese comes along. We've all experienced it.

I was at my parents' house (soon it will probably be called just "Mom's house"...),killing time before 11:00 when I'd give Gabi (a girl in my ward) a ride to the bus. I printed off my homework, played the piano, made some popcorn. As I was popping the corn, I had the urge to make some cheese popcorn, because all I've been making is sweet.

I looked high and low for the cheese powder I swear we had once bought. What I did find was a box of mac&cheese that, since I hadn't had any in a really long time, interested me. It was in the pantry. This cupboard, though right in the kitchen, is a completely neglected host of perishing items.

First ignored clue: the box of mac&cheese was in the dark back of the pantry shelf, behind opened cake mix boxes and last (or even earlier) Christmas cookie kits (the kind well-intentioned creative people give in cutesy fabric bags with poems attached). Second ignored clue: the top of the box had a layer of dust that neither blew nor wiped away.

Finally, 11:00 came and I drove Gabi to her bus stop, the aforementioned box tossed in the back seat. I got home and showered and stuff before I decided I wanted to make the mac&cheese today for lunch. I let the noodles cook too long since I was doing my hair. I hate when the noodles are mushy. I dumped them in a strainer and searched for butter and milk. First ignored divine intervention alert: there was no butter. Second: no milk.

First smart idea: I said to myself, during my fruitless search, "Oh, I should just eat my Papa John's left overs."

First and second unsmart ideas: I put a tablespoon of oil in the pot. Then I used a milk box (like a juice box, but filled with milk. . .well, vanilla-flavored rice milk), to act as the needed milk. Come on, my other choices were apple juice or water. Yuck.

I put my nose near to the rip in the little foil cheese bag, but sensed nothing with my half-sniff. I dumped it on the sweaty noodles and stirred. Then it came. First undesirable sense: the smell of rancid powdered milk. Second: the threatening gag reflex.

It's just sitting in that pot until it's cold enough to throw in the trash. I thank God for Papa John's. I literally do.

Fortunate Times

There's always something to look forward to when you choose Asian cuisine for lunch. It's especially true at one of my favorite restaurants in Provo, Saigon Cafe. I went there after a successful finish to a school presentation. I was able to get my car's safety passed across the street as I ate. It really was a wonderful afternoon. The restaurant just added to the joy.

Without fail (I lied, one time they forgot), the meal starts with this amazing appetizer of fried won-ton skins for dipping in this mystery sauce that makes my tongue dance. I've wondered if there's addictive substances in it, it's that good. I've tried to guess what it could be: maraschino cherry juice and bits mixed with pineapple juice and bits. . .and something else. Lemon or orange? It's so good.

The $5 plate comes with a small cup of soup. I always choose hot and sour over the egg drop. Both are good, but the hot and sour is everything your tongue could dream of. To mine at least. Even the spoon is fun, all long and shallow, like a little shoe with a handle.

The plate comes out with two days worth of meat/whatever you ordered, ham fried rice and an egg roll complete with dipping sauce. General Tso's chicken is a long time favorite. Each bite is, how can I say? Like making every green light.

And of course the fortune cookie comes at the end. I always break it in half, pull one half from the other so the fortune sticks out of the end I don't eat. I eat the paper-free half before I read my fortune. I'm always amazed at the taste of those cookies. No two are the same. Seriously. Anyway, this time around it was kinda gross, so I didn't eat the other half. My fortune said, "You discover treasures where others see nothing unusual," which is fortunately true.

After a few glasses of water, I needed to use their restroom; I needed a rest.... It smelled remarkably like baking cake. That was intriguing. When I went to wash my hands, the soap dispenser had two options: soap, or jabón. I'd never tried jabón before. It lathered a lot like soap...

The check came to only $9.56 (I'd ordered the daily special that made my $5 plate only $3.95). Robbery. We left thirteen dollars, all in ones I believe. The bird toothpick dispenser bid us farewell as we grabbed a complimentary mint and shuffled belly first across the street to my waiting, safe automobile.

Love

Love comes...when you think more about the other person than about his or her reactions to you.
When you dare reveal yourself fully.
When you dare to be vulnerable. -Dr. Joyce Brothers

The love we give away is the only love we keep. -Elbert Hubbard

Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies. -Aristotle

Love does not consist of gazing at each other, but in looking together in the same direction. -Antoine de Saint-Exupery

There is no remedy for love but to love more. -Henry David Thoreau

Real love stories never have endings. -Richard Bach