Recipe for Fail-Proof Invisibility

The mad Shientist surveyed for ingredients.
‘Long brown hair, a must.
New in town or bust.
Speaking of bust, a good one of those, please.’
Sensing the surest possibilities
He anxiously began his experiment.

‘Excellent. Here's the fail-proof plan:

Monday: Take brown-eyed short to dinner
Tuesday: Swim with green eyes; she's thinner
Wednesday: Call them both and cuddle with blue-eyed
Thursday: Take tall n' tan girl for a (car) ride
Friday: Call them all, and ask out brown-eyed short again
Saturday: Keep open; further intrigues may begin.

This will reveal that I am a fail-proof man.’

Then one day in this small surveyed town,
Blue-eyed talked to green eyes
Who'd talked to short brown eyes
Who'd seen tall n' tan leaning so far in
To Shim like she was part of his skin.
Fail-proof would now get some of his own.

Monday: leave him knocking at the door
Tuesday: drop him when he asks for more
Wednesday: cuddle with another
Thursday: ask out his brother
Friday: all four show up to watch him squirm
Saturday: let him dangle like a worm.

The dangling Shientist’s disbelief swelled,
His experiment had gone terribly sour.
He was supposed to have retained all the power.
But clearly his theory had all but come true
(That women would crave him and not have a clue
How well his true self unfailingly repelled
Well, everyone).

There are other fish in the ocean
Not sea sick with a false notion
That their particular motion,
Emotion or loco-motion,
Is solely needing devotion
From everyone.

The moral of his story, then
Is if you spread yourself so thin
Perceiving you're made of enough that's divisible
You’ll only successfully end up invisible.

Math is so applicable to life

f is the function for the equation solving for peace.

f(x)= girl - (x)(boy - troubles) ≥ girl (power) / (x)^2 +freedom

find f(hooray) where hooray = xboy

simplify.

question worth ∞ points.....

Must. Write. Something.

I wrote recently on my Dreamastic blog, but still nothing has inspired me to write here on my dearly beloved blog. I could write something about Michael Jackson dying. And Farah Faucett, too. They died the same day, they died looking the same, too, but they died of different causes. But I don't want to write about that.

I don't want to write about my car getting backed into either. Or the fact that I had the stomach flu and went to IHC Urgent Care on Wednesday. It made me miss my first day of math class at UVU that I don't want to talk about either. I started a new short story since I'm avoiding my novel. I don't want to talk about it. I'm ashamed that I neglect my novel. I know it needs care and attention.... I did sealings at the temple on Friday. The lady in there with me must have really wanted to talk to someone. She talked to me in the dressing room after our sealing session. I found out that she had two dead husbands, that her sister or someone had married and it was hard for the daughter and she met a lady that married a man and he was dead now and his funeral was the next day but she wouldn't go since she was going to go visit a friend and it was interesting that she had been in the same sealing session as those two younger men -- neither of whom were married ;) ;) ;)-- since she knew them from somewhere before. They weren't married, either of them, had she mentioned that? I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't even really know what she was talking about, but oh well. I listened....

Ah ha. I want to write about the barn cake that Mom and I built for our John Deere-loving friend, Jay. So beautiful. The cake, that is.... Don't believe me? See for yourself.





Now what did I tell you? Beautiful.

About Time

Where does the time go?

Father said it follows him everywhere, that's where.
Mother told me, Time returns to the dirt.
The King sang as his hips swang. "Time goes by so slowly...time can do so much."
The Queen sent me away, "Busy busy, work work!"
The Sisters bowed their heads for all eternity, so I never got their answer.
Big Brother said, Don't worry where the time goes, it's taken care of.
I asked the Man in the moon, he yawned and phased the other way.
I peered behind the Calendar.
I watched my watch.

Seconds, minutes, hours, days; time goes many ways.
Wrinkles, heartbeats, memories; time goes through me.

Best Thing

It only took one back-arching, chin-tipping reflex to realize that at my new place, I won't have to do magic bending tricks in order to wash myself in the shower. Ahhhhhhhh.

New Post

What's new? Oh, didn't I tell you? A couple posts ago I wrote about my rejection letter. Well, I have since received an acceptance e-mail! They are using my teeny-tiniest entry, my visual poem "Look,." (I figured they had a little blank spot on a page that they needed to fill up.) It's on my blog, first post of this year I think, but it goes like this.

Look,
If you take this away
If you take away If
you take away you
take away
away

I was always proud of this one. It will be published in a literary journal at UVU, Touchstones. Yay! I'll get a complimentary issue of the journal when I go to the release party, April 14 at 7pm. It's cool.

And I sent popcorn to France. It's disguised as a "group gift" and "a blanket, a ring, a letter" on the itemized contents list... I had run into a little trouble when telling the truth so I had to stretch some hardly-truths to get the packages through. But now they're off and I'm relieved. I'd promised them all (the members in the wards where I served) popcorn over a year ago. Better late (and $200) than later...(and > $200 w/o a FedEx account--thanks Miles).

And I am a temple worker at the Provo Temple, Saturdays 4:00 to 8:30pm. It's really nice. I don't have any dates or other eternally pressing matters on Saturday evenings so I'm at no loss working the Saturday evening shift. It's not too busy, either, so it's double nice. Peaceful and calm. Lots of pregnant woman I've noticed though....

And I'm going to move. I'm so excited. I need a change, and this will be somewhat of a significant one. I mean, Pleasant Grove is a whole new world, eh? ;) I think that's where we'll end up, my two friends and I. It will be so nice, cuz we're very complimentary friends and they make two roommates for me instead of five. I prefer that ratio.

Then, I started working for one of my best friends, Barb. Well, maybe more appropriately put, I work for the baby, Addison. :) Cutest baby. She's so chill and fun. But not exactly low maintenance as she LOVES to roam and be the center of attention. She's a complete joy, and I'll love this "job."



Oh, I go swimming at the gym lately, and my dad has given me lots of pointers. There's so much more to proper swimming than I ever knew! I really need to get a rhythm and figure out what to do with my motorboat feet. When I get concentrating too much on everything is when I get the most water in the orifices of the head. But it's fun. Maybe not for whomever may be watching me....but learning new things is fun for me!

And I'm addicted to Edamame (ěd'ə-mä'mā). But right now I'm eating Salt & Pepper Pistachios from Costco. Both good and good for me!


Okay, well that should be fine for now. See you at the temple, eh? Or perhaps in one of my strange dreams of late. Or wherev. Peace. :)

Today

I wore one sweater less than usual, half the usual amount of time.
I saw a fruit fly.
I wore capris (red).
I turned on my car AC.
It almost hurt to touch my car steering wheel after work.
I smelled flowers even when I can't see any.
I think Spring is a comin'.

Nothing

When nothing is on my mind, I do nothing perfectly.
I see nothing wrong with nothing on my mind.
Nothing can inspire me like nothing can.
And I am bothered by nothing; that is, nothing bothers me more than anything and anything I do means nothing to nothing, so why is anything on my mind?
Is anything worth nothing, or is nothing worth nothing?
I want nothing on my mind.
I do nothing better than anything.
Nothing happens and I feel nothing.
Nothing could be better.


First, I wrote Nothing. Then I saw nothing here.

Pay It Forward....

Pay It Forward
Lucky you!

The first five people to respond to this post will get something made by me!

My choice.

For you.

This offer does have some restrictions and limitations:

1 - I make no guarantees that you will like what I make! (Though I may ask some questions during the process.

2 - What I create will be just for you.

3 - It'll be done this year (might take a little while).

4 - You have no clue what it's going to be. It may be a story. It may be poetry or an article. I may crochet or quilt something. I may bake you something and mail it to you. Who knows? Not you, that's for sure!

5 - I reserve the right to do something extremely strange.

The catch? Oh, the catch is that you must repost this on your blog and offer the same to the first 5 people who do the same.

The first 5 people to do so and leave a comment telling me they did win a FAB-U-LOUS homemade gift by me!

Oh, and be sure to post a picture of what you win when you get it!

Good luck!

As Long As There's a Drawer. . .

I realize the reason I like blogging so much is because my blog publisher really likes all the things I have to say. I don't get rejection very often.

This morning I got this SASE back from my university's literary journal, Touchstones. I had submitted 7 small works of which I was moderately to greatly proud. The self-addressed stamped envelope had very pretty writing on the front (ahem, mine) but it looked much too clean, thin and hastily posted.

I smiled and said to myself, "Ah, my first rejection letter!"

Sure enough.

I permitted the smile to leave briefly, but ordered it back to work not a moment later.

I put the letter, the envelope I bought, the stamp I paid for, my handwriting, in that drawer of stuff you aren't sure what to do with but will worry about later.

But I won't worry about it later. I'll worry about the next one. It'll be bigger. When I send it, I will have shaky confidence. When the reply comes, it will hurt no matter the reply. You know, cry if you do, cry if you don't...or something like that.

It's humbling, to think you may have had at least one out of seven good ideas actually be good and to have another not think so. But, think of it as another form of rejection: you're just not what they're looking for; doesn't mean it's not good. It'll be good for someone, someday.