Final descent

The descent of the Gods into the city of Angels.....



Ahhhhhhh.....I've been wearing short-sleeves and light sweaters since Saturday morning. I forget what if feels like to be back in my summer skin. I'm in LA for a week visiting Stasy and annoying her every time we pass some celeb-worthy spot. "HEY! WE JUST WALKED RIGHT PAST THE IVY! Its REALLY small.....and dark." "Lisa Kline? Kitson? Fred Segal? I'm dying here!!" The worst was when we were driving down Melrose (I know, how LA do I sound) headed to Robertson Blvd and we passed a Marc by Marc Jacobs store. Anyone who remotely knows me knows that I LOVE me some Marc Jacobs. I think I might have screamed, gasped, pointed, and yelled - or a combination of all these things. The look on Stasy's face said it all......c'mon. So of course we had to go and of course they didn't have either of the two sweaters I've been coveting.

But it hasn't been all bad luck here in LA. In fact, I've been having great luck in the city of Angels. We had decided we wanted to try and see Wicked, the musical, but it was all sold out. So we went to the theater Saturday morning to wait in line for a ticket lottery they have for every showing. You have half an hour to write your name down on a paper and put it in the barrel. Then you wait half and hour and they begin the lottery. 13 names are called and given front row tickets for $25 cash. There were roughly 250 people there, Stasy claims 300, and my name was the 11th called. I WON!!!!!!! So two hours later we were on the front row where you could see the spit flying out of the performers mouths, like a video of a slow motion sneeze. It was an amazing show! I've never been that into musicals but I loved it! It was funny and smart and their voices were ridiculous.....it was.....wicked. Afterwards we did a little shopping, a little eating, a little conversating and had quite the enjoyable day. Not bad for my first day of vacay.

Going back into the closet

I talked on the phone last night in my closet.  I haven't done that since who knows when.  It was a mixture of reasons; part my dad down the hall, part sensitivity of information and part I'd never sat in that closet before.  It was kind of nice actually.  There was a nice big box to sit on from where I could survey the contents of that particular closet.  I have a lot of sweatshirts.  All organized by color.  It felt almost like I had found the secret compartment of the house like a secret wardrobe minus the fur coats and the Narnia.  So I stayed in the closet for a while for a mixture of reasons; part the mysterious nature of it all, part being comfortable already, part loving the feeling of being cozy, and part realizing that the opportunity to just sit in a closet doesn't come along that often.  I feel like the last time I spent a significant amount of time in a closet I was at my elementary friend Jenna's house up to no good.  For some reason we decided (and it was probably me doing all the deciding) that we should get crayons and markers and leave our mark.  So we stayed in her closet for quite a while making beautiful cave-like sketches of water buffalo and wolves on the hunt - when it was actually our names and some stupid flowers and hearts.  It felt so liberating to be able to draw directly on the wall, something that would never fly at my house and probably not at Jenna's - but I didn't stick around to find out.  

I never got to do anything creative to my room.  If I wanted to put something up on the wall it had to be put up with plasti-tack or it wasn't going up.  Painting our rooms anything other than white was unacceptable.  So throughout the years I came up with some genius redesigns for my walls that always got vetoed; the giant Chinese dragon taking up one wall that I was going to paint, the floor to ceiling picture wallpaper of the beach to go with my sand colored carpet, having someone tag my name with spray paint on one huge wall, bright blue paint, etc.  As you can tell I went through some very distinct design phases.  And because none were ever approved the most action my walls saw was a poster of Blur (my favorite band throughout high school), a poster of a flamenco dancer with my name on it from Spain and a poster my brother gave me with a cat with messy fur that read, "bad hair day".  To this day I fear being able to decorate my own home.  I don't know if I'll be able to pull together an entire dwelling.  If not, I know that at least I'll feel at home in the closet. 

A day late, a dollar short

Don't you hate that feeling when you find just the thing you were looking for after the fact? Like rummaging through your closet looking for your bracelet with spikes from High School for a theme party and you don't find it until 1 month later? Or trying to rid your room of that awful smell before company comes over and only after they've left you discover the taco your friend Cherie left under your bed....a week ago? I hate that - especially seeing what the taco looks like up close. Well, I had such a moment last night as I was passing through my iTunes library. My eye happened to catch a song entitled "What's a yule log?". I don't really know I thought to myself and double clicked. I was not ready for the magic that came floating towards my ears courtesy of my computers speakers. I wanted to put the song directly on my blog but everyone knows its a miracle that I can even post on my own blog....let alone add something. So the best I could do is give you a link that has the song for you to listen: http://www.musick8.com/html/current_tune.tpl?volumeid=V15_2&tunenum=10
Where has this gem been this holiday season? I don't even know how or why it came to me but I think its a Christmas miracle. Somehow in my mad music-grabbing from others I acquired this and it sat under my nose for who knows how long - too long. And don't worry, although that site doesn't let you listen to the whole song, the full version never actually explains what a yule log is - so you're not missing out. And if you get the chance, there is also a song called "Cranberries" with a delightful 50s bopper-vibe. Who says there aren't still Miracles....

Feliz Navidad. madre

I channeled my inner mermaid today and used a what do you call it? - thingamajig to eat up all my lobster tail.  But not even the lobster tails or snow crab legs could make the house feel full again.  The mini-quiches almost approximated my sister jenaper, but not quite.  I've been trying to set up a relatively normal Christmas atmosphere around here forcing my dad to turn on the fireplaces and rummaging through my moms room for my new Christmas pajamas but it just hasn't been the same.  But we made the best of it by tearing open our presents with gusto and contemplating opening jenaper's in her absence.  And even though we have an absent mother she still managed to leave her touch on Christmas.  There were the presents with no names that we opened at random and decided who wanted them the most, the bags filled with random goods like cheap knit gloves and socks and the presents that did have names that no one could read anyway.  My mom is known for many a Christmas mix-up.  In fact, it just wouldn't be Christmas without one.  There were the Christmases of old when after all the presents were open she would say, "is that all?  I could have sworn there were more presents.  Didn't you get a walkman?  I know I bought them for you guys, I must have lost them in my closet.  Guess you'll get them next year".  What?!  You can't tell us we got walkmans but have to wait another year because you lost them!!  Not fair!!  Then my favorite incident: the Christmas pajamas.  I opened my new pajamas on Christmas eve, a tradition, and decided I didn't like them one bit.  So she took them back.  The next Christmas eve rolls around and when I open my new Christmas pajamas......BAM!  The same ones as the year before.  Her defense - "Oh, I forgot.  I wondered why I had these....are you sure you don't like them?".  And then the usual mix-up as you are opening a present addressed to you and you look at her with a questioning look, "Oh yeah, that is not for you.  Did it have your name on it?  Sorry!".  One year she gave me this truly awful silver-box purse that she said she found for 25 cents.  She just laughed and laughed.  I laughed and laughed as I hid it in my roommate Jessica's room.  For the next 3 months that purse went back and forth between our rooms being hidden in the oddest of places.  I miss my mom, but I guess we are pulling through here.  And just for her I dutifully had the 24 hrs of a Christmas Story (her favorite movie) playing in the background all day.

Composite Christmas

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.  How do I know?  Because the migratory holiday worshippers are beginning to make trips to their respective winter homelands.  Yes, just like the Salmon of Capistrano, people are beginning to fight their way upstream to the spawning grounds of Christmas and New Years.  This is always a very troubling time for me as the seasons shift and so does my social circle.  Every year around this time there is a delicate balancing act of shifting numbers of acquaintances to be worked into my schedule.  Monday saw the loss of 2 followed by another 2 today and the gain of 1.  I am going to need to dust off my graphing calculator to make sure that my x and y vertices make the proper equation this time - one simple mistake in the formula and you've just missed Aunt Susan who was only here for the day.  For years I have been trying to convince my parents that we should be the kind of family who goes to Mexico for Christmas and every year I hear, "that would be nice" with no follow through.  I think my constant suggestions finally got to my mother this year as she grabbed Jenaper and headed south......way south.....South America south.  I guess she thought of my Mexico idea as just a jumping off point to start negotiations.  I didn't mean for her  to go without me.  The bright spot is I did manage to get in "I want gold, LOT'S OF GOLD" to her on their way out the door.  Well...gold and boots and fur.  The usual South American fair.  All these changes in scenery have caused me to reflect on other changes I could incorporate into my Christmas this year.  Today I decided that instead of pushing for Mexico, since that isn't going to happen, that I would focus on our meals.  Instead of our traditional clam chowder Christmas Eve dinner I am proposing another migratory animal - Lobster.  Lobster and Calamari and Shrimp, oh my!  Since our resident portion control and health foods advisor will be busy buying me gold and fur I have instituted a new Christmas motto devoid of seasons greetings and thankfulness.  Instead I propose this: "Where others skimp we splurge"!  Who's with me?

Eternal Sunshine of my spotless mind

 Inspired by the shows I watch regularly I decided to have more of what I call "music moments".  You know, where one of the characters sits on their bed contemplating that days failures (seth cohen -OC), or sits alone outside at a restaurant table reliving the latest fight with their girlfriend/fiance (spencer - The Hills).  There are always great songs playing during these contemplative moments staring into the sun that really drive the sad/confused/repentive feelings home.  I know there is really no music playing while they sit and think, unless it's LC driving to LA for the first time in her car and in that case I'm sure she was playing music on the stereo, but I like it.  So I decided to sit/lay more while listening to music and just think.  So far my favorite is laying on my bed with my feet up on the wall staring at the ceiling.  It's relaxing and Mo told me her doctor said putting your feet up helps ward of varicose veins - two birds with one stone!  Today was such a beautiful day that I decided to take my music moment outside and sit on the porch with my knees up.  The sun was shining, it was actually warm and our adoptive dog Keiko came and sat next to me.  Together we contemplated who knows what while I gave him a mohawk and then steps and then finally a heart with L+K inside on his fur.  It was nice to have a moment with something warm next to me that can't talk.  Together we soaked up the sun to Ne-Yo's "sexy love", Madonna's "sorry" and Lupe Fiasco's "superstar".  After, I had a music moment on my bed curled up into the fetal position we end each yoga session with on my right side (unless you are pregnant, and then on your left side) which quickly turned into a music....nap.  Another good option is to sit in an area of people, put your headphones in and just think to your hearts content about whatever you want while watching people walk by.  They'll see your furrowed brow, intense stare and perhaps even the teeth gripping your lower lip and know you are really feeling.......something.  Trust me, they'll be jealous.  Sometimes I have to skip a song in the rotation because it doesn't quite fit the moment, but I am slowly building the soundtrack to my life and it - is - GOOD. 

Karma Chameleon

This morning marked the fifth night in a row that I had trouble sleeping.  I've been racking my tired brain trying to figure out why.  Why? Why? WHY????  My first thought was the 65% dark chocolate with cocoa nibs I've been nibbling on bit by bit.  Could it possibly have enough caffeine to keep me wide-eyed throughout the night?  So I stopped eating it after the afternoon.  It wasn't that.  Then I wondered if it was the Tahitian Vanilla Hazelnut Yogi tea I've been enjoying as of late.  It says caffeine free, is it possible that 'ole devil of a yogi was lying to me about the contents?  It wasn't that.  I pondered the Feng Shui of my room but it seems to be in order.  It wasn't that.  Could it be my chosen pajamas for the week?  So last night I decided to try out the new L.A.M.B. sweat pants that I just got.  It wasn't that, unfortunately.  Do I have a guilty conscious?  Maybe.  Is it bad Karma?  Probably.  For what???  I had a conversation last night with a friend about this very subject.  He thinks that you should expect good things when you give them.  I don't think you should.  I think they happen, but its not an automatic benefit.  But I do think that its perfectly ok to blame karma when bad things happen.  Its time to audit my life.  Have I done something terrible lately?  Have I wronged someone and need to make it right?  I can't think of anything........really, I can't.  Let's see - I brought a sick man popsicles, I feel like Abuelas personal slave, I have filled in at work, I clean my bathroom regularly, I sent out Christmas cards, I cleaned my ears, I made a new friend, I'm caught up at school.................  Nothin, I got nothin.  Tonight I'm hoping for a Christmas Carol type miracle where three ghosts, hopefully famous, will come and show me the error of my ways - or at least a friend calling to air their grievances about me so I can apologize.  The last thing I want is another morning like today where I hear "what is with your face"?  Its tired, my face is tired. 

Boys:12 million, Girls: 4

I made a new friend today.  I just love making new friends - when it's on my own terms.  I noticed my new friend at the beginning of the year and noted that he seemed cool.  You know, you can usually tell by how someone looks whether or not you are going to get along.  I knew from his great style and the fact that he sat in the back and mostly kept to himself that we could have been great friends.  I mean, we already had so much in common what with all the great clothes and the sitting in the back of the classroom, but I just never talked to him.  To be fair, he never talked to me either.  Not that I blame him, class bro can be an everest-like obstacle at times.  But today I sat between the two and decided that it was finally time on the last day of class to reach out.  Except I just said, "hey......hi.  I've been meaning to talk to you I just never got around to it until today.  You seem like you're kinda interesting".  And just as predicted he was.  "What is that on your paper?" I prodded.  "Its Chinese" he responded.  "My phone can text in Chinese!" I said excitedly.  The rest of the class was spent not learning about the last 'Little Ice Age' but instead deciding whether I would like to die in a shark attack or from a nuclear bomb.  Bomb, hands down.  I'm deathly afraid of fish but not of chemicals, I eat those for breakfast.  The best part?  He loves to talk about China and so do I.  I don't know why, but debating the abilities of those commies (if you can even still call them that) just gets me out of bed in the mid-morning.  The only down side?  Chalk one more up for the boys.  It seems I have a tiny bit of trouble making friends of the female persuasion.  What gives? 

I'd like a free mix-in please

I have this thing lately where I like to wash down my meals with a smoothie. For most a smoothie is a meal in and of itself, not for me. It comes after the meal. Odd? Yes. Delicious? Yes. Normal? No. But what is normal anyway? I have one friend who thinks its normal to naturally wake up at 7am every morning......not normal. There is boy in my ward who must think that it's normal to pick your nose and eat it during church because he does it every week. I think it's normal to eat the sucker stick after I'm done with the candy part but some might not agree with that (I like the taste of paper). Normal is to people as mushrooms are to food; totally varied and widely disputed as to whether they are good or not. And they (mushrooms) are not good, for the record. Maybe it has something to do with my Abuela washing down her meals occasionally with a nice strawberry flavored Ensure, but it has become normal for me to whip up a quick smoothie after some eggs or lasagna as a means to wash everything down with. Something about that cold, thick, fruity elixir sliding down my throat just tops the whole experience off sooo nicely. Today I used soy milk instead of regular and it was just that more delicious. So if you want to debate whats 'normal', we could do that. But if you'd rather have pleasure that you can buy past midnight on a Saturday then come over to my house and I'll make you a smoothie - after dinner style.

Me, myself and I

I'm coming down with something. Yep, I can definitely feel it getting worse. I forayed into the world of hypochondriacs to diagnose myself this evening and the verdict is in; narcissism. Not in an 'I like to stare at my profile in the mirror' or 'make everyone around me listen while I belt out songs' kind of way. My strain of narcissism is much, much worse. I love my own blog *gasp*. I do. I read it over and over. I check for comments everyday, but I always read through it first. Its almost as if I never wrote it in the first place and when I read it I react like, 'yeah, I know how that feels'! Sometimes I read it multiple times a day. I just get such a kick out of myself sometimes. I know, I know.......I KNOW. How dare I admit it? How dare I even think it! But it gets worse. I feel bad for posts like yesterday that I feel are kind of a cop-out. Like I let my public down. Who do I think I am? My public? I can feel my head getting bigger and bigger as I type this blasphemy. I feel like I need to post everyday and I get annoyed when other people don't. I read your blog to snoop into your life and it gets difficult when there is no material provided. C'mon. I'm churning post after post out and I get nothing in return. The narcissist vein in my left ear is throbbing as I type this. If you all don't start posting more its going to explode and your blood will be running down my neck into my shirt collar. Sick. Don't worry about me, I'm getting help. I'll be taking a strong cocktail of vanilla hazelnut tea, America's Most Smartest Model and some pill the kids down the street gave me that has 'oxy'gen in it? And FYI: cold water gets blood out.

For only 3 easy payments of.....

OH the weather outside is......gross. The snow is like a great blanket covering not only the ground but my brain. I always have specific music for everymood except today which is why I'm watching America's Next Top Model instead. I'm all muddled so here is list I started a while back of the best songs for various activities - and some not so regular activities.
THE BEST SONG TO..........

1)Shower to: 'cold water'-Damien Rice
2)Belt out with an equally ridiculous friend: 'the power of love'-Celine Dion
3)Make you giddy: 'silly love songs'-Paul McCartney and Wings
4)listen to in the sunshine: 'big sur'-The Thrills
5)feel 16 again: 'back for good'-Take That
6)be torn away from your lover: 'we belong together'-Mariah Carey
7)entertain European friends(exchange or otherwise): 'filthy/gorgeous'-Scissor Sisters
8)write a paper to: 'feels good'-Tony Toni Tone
9)bond with your best friends husband: 'the sweet escape'-Gwen Stefani ft. Akon
10)just be friends with: 'thin line'-Jurassic 5 ft. Nelly Furtado
11)Pine over someone: 'damn I wish I was your lover'-The Eels
12)be moody and still want to dance: 'double shadow'-Junior Boys
13)play if you want to be my friend: 'just what i needed'-The Cars
14)feel cool around older siblings: 'denise'-Fountains of Wayne
15)act like you liked Johnny Cash before the movie: 'ring of fire'-Johnny Cash
16)pretend like you used to do coke: 'pour some sugar on me'-Def Leppard
17)wish you hadn't grown up with such an easy life: 'nuthin but a "G" Dre/Snoop
18)to start a workout with: 'digital love'-Daft Punk
19)listen to while laying on the floor: 'el scorcho'-Weezer
20)add on to your vocabulary: 'sorry'-Madonna
21)listen to after a break-up: 'ugly girl'-Fleming & John
22)not be able to stay put in your chair: 'needy girl'-chromeo
23)do your hair to: 'band of gold'-Frade Payne
24)get dressed in front of your window: 'sexy love'-Ne-Yo
25)scream along with: 'taste of ink'-The Used
26)put on in the background during a get-together: 'Irreplaceable'-The Funky Lowlives
27)take you to another world: 'superstar'-Lupe Fiasco ft. Matthew Santos
28)make depression even worse: 'breathe me'-Sia
29)reminisce to: 'hackensack'-Fountains of Wayne
30)never get sick of: 'the quiet things that no one ever knows'-Brand New
31)always raise your blood pressure, in a good way: 'like eating glass'-Bloc Party
32)feel better than other people to: 'Never win'-Fischerspooner
33)listen to on a stoop: 'lovesick'-Gang Starr
34)listen to if you ever hop on a moving train: 'the weight'-The Band
35)stare at nothing really intensely: 'motorcycle drive by'-Third Eye Blind

Fruit cake shmute cake

I had some Panettone today - ok, I had some Panettone 3 times today. I couldn't help it, it's just so delicious. For those of you not in the know Panettone is a cake like holiday bread from Italy with candied fruit zests, raisins and is sometimes glazed or not. You might be thinking that it sounds a little like fruitcake, and you would be wrong. It is soooo much more than that. It begins with the name: Panettone. It sounds like an Italian metal band and that is exactly what it is; The metal band of breads. See you have sourdough, the Bryan Adams of breads, which has a little kick to it but is still just basically white bread. There is pumpernickel, the Snoop Dogg of bread, that is really good but you can only serve at specific functions - it doesn't go with everything. Next is rye bread, the Hall & Oates of breads, that is undeniably good but you have to be in the right mood for it. We all know white bread, the Fred Durst of bread, that is alright but eventually you just forget about it for better varieties. Finally we have wheat bread, The Justin Timberlake of breads, healthy, good for you but if not cooked correctly can be hard to swallow sometimes. But Panettone is only around for the Holidays and must be consumed in large quantities while available - just like Pantera or Metallica, one song is never enough while it's on. You see, Panettone has hidden surprises inside just like Black Sabbath - I think it could even bite the head off a live bat if necessary. It looks great outside just like KISS and it comes in creative packaging like AC/DC. So go eat some and you'll see just what I'm talking about. I'm pretty sure I'll be going back for fourths!

Party over here

I went to my friends Birthday blow-out this weekend and channeled my inner junior high school girl. It was a fancy 'Hollywood' party with a red carpet leading up to the door. There were these tight circles of girls in their skanky short, low-cut black dresses everywhere and then me. I was in an electric purple dress that I found at DI just that week with a high neck, 3/4 sleeves and knee covering jersey fabric swirling around my legs. I accented it with an ivory satin bow belt courtesy of my mothers closet - and it looked fantastic. Everywhere I turned there was teased hair and tiaras atop the clusters of heads. It only helped to showcase the lovely bobby pins I had accented earlier that day with large jewels from a bedazzler kit that I used to pull back one side of my hair with - and that looked fantastic too. So there I was in my purple dress out of place at the cool kids party. I didn't know who to approach since I had gone by myself and I wasn't receiving any eye contact, at least to my face. I looked to a circle of girls and then to a group of gay men. I chose the gay men. Not just because I knew they would talk to me and maybe appreciate my dress, but because upon closer inspection I realized that quite a few of the girls there had actually gone to my high school and were just as stupid back then as they appeared now. I chose right. I had some stimulating conversations about designer clothes and doing lines of coke off the VIP table in Tao. I could only relate to one of those, you guess which. After an hour and a half of soothing my urinary tract with glasses of cranberry juice minus the vodka that everyone else was having I decided I was done. I tried to make my way out the door until the b-day girl begged me to stay for cake. I patiently waited wishing I had been able to text message....arg. In the meantime an old manager who helped fire me once upon a time came in and saw me. Brandon: tall, blond, shirt open to almost the navel, devastatingly handsome and totally gay. "I hope you don't hate me.......I was such a b**ch back then.....I'm soooo sorry....don't hate me" he kept repeating as he meandered an inch away from my face and hugged me profusely. I assured him that was not the case and snuck away. Blah. My next attempt at making it to the door was met with a bigger obstacle; party man. Mr. Clean: tall, shaved head, black knit top, over the top muscles and brandy glass filled with what smelled like red bull and something else. "You aren't leaving are you?" he sneered at me. "I'm trying to" I replied. "Stay a while longer...please" he pleaded. Curiosity got the best of me and so I stayed for a little bit longer wondering what he could possibly have to talk with me about. Not much. 28, used to do voice-overs, from Orem, was someones roomate once and likes to put his hand on my arm while telling me how drunk he is. Delightful. Finally as he was awkwardly trying to get me to give him my phone number I decided it was time to leave. Ugh. I'm not currently attending Junior High anymore for this very reason. I'm too old to be around people trying to impress each other so much. Things have gotten significantly better for me since Junior High, I'm not willing to backslide into my days of braces and dances in the cafeteria. I know who I am. I wear electric purple and I wear it well.

Dust it off

Dear Whitney-

Remember that time our Peruvian hats got tangled together while we were wearing them? And then when I was working with the internet I found a dating site with BYU in its name, even though it wasn't affiliated, so I signed up a fake profile saying I was majoring in astrophysics and used this picture so people wouldn't know which one I was? Ha. I do.

I just couldn't help it

I'm trying to be responsbile and I'm trying to take care of myself so I decided to be proactive and get vaccinated. I took myself to the doctor today and received my first shot of Gardasil to ward of HPV (cervical cancer). And on a side note, this was the first time I remember taking a shot in the keyster. It wasn't that bad, I took it like a champ. But I was not prepared for what happened next. I was hanging out with Guille and we (more like I) decided that Sesame Street was a good way to un-hyper ourselves (actually just him). I love the calle de Sesame and so I watched with him enjoying the letter F and Mr. Noodles trying to answer three phones at once. Then it cuts to Big Bird leading a small mariachi band composed of children in Guadalupe, AZ. Fine, I love mariachi music and I like kids. So far so good. And then all of a sudden it cuts to some children in traditional dress dancing with eachother swirling their colorful skirts to and fro and suddenly this little boys voice cuts in singing "Viva Mexico annnnnd America". My eyes began to well up and my throat felt tight and then I knew. I was going to cry. It took all the strength I had left to not let the tears pour forth out of my eyes. I don't know why but I was just so filled with emotion and I'm not even Mexican!!! It was so STUPID! I didn't want my nephew to see me crying so I sucked it all in but man.....I just felt so moved - for no reason. This wasn't normal so I marched over to my bag and fished out the vaccine information sheet they gave me. I quickly scanned for the side effects and was disappointed. Dizzyness, nausea, pain at the injection site.......nothing on over emotionality. This can't be right. OK, so one time I teared up at the Applebee's commercial when the high school coach gets a plaque put on the wall but that's it. It just had to be the shot or I'm suddenly over emotional. Gross. Here is MY warning label for Gardasil: Do not take if prone to over sentamentality or sensitivity to children, animals or animals dressed as children. Please take caution when taking Gardasil around elementary school or primary programs. If you feel like crying or hugging at any time please notify your doctor because these could be signs of a more serious condition. Some women experienced extreme shame from side effects.

I want M-O-N-E-Y

Something wicked this way comes and it comes by way of my violet colored leather wallet. A couple of weeks ago i noticed this strong cloud of cologne surrounding me. I had just finished eating at this delicious Brazilian restaurant when I pulled a dollar out of my wallet and was immediately hit in the face with the most pungent over-the-top cologne smell ever. But i couldn't figure it out at the time. I thought it might have been someone who had just walked by our booth. It took me a couple of nose watering payments to figure out it was in my wallet. Cash, cards, receipts......all are laced with the stench of a greasy Guido. Its not a sickening Stetsony scent, more like a doused on Armani - heavy on the Italian. Its not wearing off, if anything it is growing strong in the warm, dark environment of the wallet. I grabbed some cash tonight to pay for Cousin E and I's shakes and the whole car filled with the eye-burning smell. Its freezing outside and we had to roll the windows down to keep from asfixiating ourselves. To be fair I haven't emptied the wallet to find the source because I just figured I would have spent it already. Guess not. And everytime I smell that......that smell I am left to ponder how money can be that saturated with cologne. Was it on the dresser when the cologne bottle spilled? Was it rubbed repeadetly on the neck of a greasy Guido? Is that someone's 'signature piece'? Has it been in a strip joint? Yuck.

What time is it?

Someone wake me up. I'm living in some sort of alternate sphere that has skewed reality for me. 3am has become the same as 3pm. I stay up until all hours of the night and then I sleep in until high noon. This is not normal. I already have a somewhat charmed life living at home nannying my blood 2 days a week without having to go grocery shopping and now I have taken advantage of the Thanksgiving holiday. I feel bad. I feel....unproductive. I feel relaxed. I feel like I'm milking workmans comp and I didn't even have to saw a pinky off. I feel kinda lucky and I feel kinda like rubbing it in your face. I have come to appreciate a schedule but not this week. I woke up when I wanted and went wherever I wanted. I ate rolls, tiramisu, clam chowder and chips and salsa with no regard for whether or not they went together. It was pure unadulterated chaos of the best kind. Now I need something different. Something to bring order back into my lawless exsistence. So I brainstormed today and came up with this: no text messaging for a week. I had originally propsed 2 weeks but I recognize my weaknesses and got smart. For one week I will either have to ignore or call back any person who sends me a text message. But why cut out text messaging you might be wondering. Because they are my favorite medium for communication. I have friends whom I solely communicate with through texts. Also, they get me in trouble sometimes. I'm sure everyone has read more into a text message then the sender meant and vice-versa. It makes me lazy and un-communative and doesn't bring out the holiday spirit. So because I love Christmas time I have decided to be personable and friendly so watch out. You may get more than you bargained for..........at least for a week.

Memories....in the corner of my mind

For years people have been telling me that I remind them of Elaine from Seinfeld. I can definately see that, but for the first time today I think I saw it how other people must. I was watching an episode where Jerry tells Elaine that she is the "queen of confrontation" after she confronts a man in her building for not saying hello to her anymore. I saw it. I am Elaine. I don't confront everyone, but I am good at it. Not only am I good at it but sometimes I like it. I'm just waiting for someone to really test my patience so I can release the goods from my mouth. And what better time than the Holiday season to express your frustrations. In fact, I'm thinking of celebrating Festivus this year. I'm itching to work someone over during the 'feats of strength' portion of the evening.

Continuing with my nostalga, I was looking through some old emails the other day and found a little jem that I think needs to be shared. It was a year ago this summer and I had just arrived in upstate New York to begin my first foray into child wrangling 101. And it follows........

-Schenectady (correct spelling) has been pretty interesting so far. I have some great stories to tell and it hasn't even been a week. It's just ridicurous. For one, my roomate during training decided to go on a walk yesterday and proceeded to pull a fanny pack out of her suitcase. Not just any fannypack my friends....one that must have been from Peru. It was brightly embroidered, to say the least. Then, I see her putting on head phones, you know the kind that wrap around the back of the head and over the ears......so I find myself wondering what kind of apparatus could be attached to those monstrous ear pieces? Here's the sweet stuff.....I start to hear rustling in her bag and I look over to see a collection of tapes. That's right my friends, she was rocking the walkman. And I thought to myself..."self - what better thing to have on a walk than a walkman? Brilliant". And that's when it hit me, you are NOT on the westcoast anymore girlfriend. Bravo for the girl who still has tapes.

More to come from my adventures in paradise. Hope all is well!

P.S. I learned how to do the Harlem shake last night. The eagle has landed!!!!!!
Give my love to the peeps-
Its good to remember how far you've come sometimes. Ha Ha

Room for two

What a day. The day before Thanksgiving. What are you supposed to do? Enjoy the outdoors, even if it means sacrificing an appendage to the Gods of frostbite. I woke up with an idea, as I usually do, and decided that today was the day to ride tandem bikes for the first time. So I called up Wo and talked her into it easy-peazy.

I left home at noon, picked her up and headed for Outdoors Unlimited where the nice worker gave us an hour and half for $6.50 (normally thats the price for an hour only) and told us to mark on a diagram all the damages we could see. After circling the whole bike, literally, we headed out into the cold. We bundled ourselves with gloves, hats, sweatshirts and fleece but we were no match for mother nature, that vile sunless lady.

It was a beautiful clear day but it was FREEZING!!! But none of that mattered as we toured the sights of Provo to our own soundtrack provided by the Ipod and portable speakers in my pocket. Memories flooded back as we passed sight after sight from our past. "Didn't we go to a party there once?" "Yes, that was the dojo. I think someone was living there at the time". Ahhhh, good times. It seems like every corner of Provo holds some memory for me and it was great to have my memory jogged without Fezzik back to the old days. We even happened upon stupid Danny, a friend of sorts, who was taking a bus for the first time in his life to SLC to catch his plane. Can you guess why he bears the title 'stupid'? After a little over an hour we couldn't take it anymore and headed back. It took what seemed like half an hour to get the feeling back into my finger tips.

Afterwards I picked up Cousin E. from her teeny, tiny apartment to go to the grocery store. But before we left I had to take a picture of her water closet. The toilet paper holder is in such an odd place, not at all convenient. It just wasn't right. The Fung Shui was all off in the cramped quarters. I could not risk throwing off my chi anymore than it already was so we vacated the premises immediately. I'm thinking of getting her a Feng Shui consultant for Christmas.

Help me help myself

I rushed to school on Monday morning to find Mike and Cousin E in the quad outside the JFSB holding signs up. I couldn't tell what they were advertising as I walked up. I couldn't think of anything that would top the Azbiristan scam so why even try? But sure enough they were out there pushing something on their clipboards. As I got closer I finally saw what all the excitement was about.......


ME.

They had taken it upon themselves to be my good friends and help me get a date. Not help me get a date with a particular someone, just any someone(s). They each had a blown up picture of my face and a clipboard with a sign-up sheet that they were using to court potential suitors for me.


That's right, there is one signature on there from a guy who said he had lots of girls to date right now, but that we could be friends on facebook. How sweet. It was pretty funny and entertaining to see them approaching people while I was 10 ft away unbeknownst to the potential suitors. Its about time someone got one on me......I'm so proud.

I had a discussion with Cousin E. today that I just continued with my sister Jeffiner. Cousin E. said she was going home to eat an open-face sandwich at which point I decided that I don't believe in 'open-faced sandwiches'. It just doesn't make any sense to me. Aren't the rules of a sandwich that it has to be book-ended by some sort of bread? Flat, pita, white, wheat whatever. No one seems to have a good argument for why its called that other than its been called that forever. Jeffiner even pulled out the Earl of sandwich card......low. Any thoughts?

No, thank YOU

A compliment is a compliment is a compliment, or so they say. But I happen to judge compliments by who is the complimenter. Take for example this Saturday when I went to the grocery store and the checker complimented my hair. "I really like your hair". Ok, I'll take that one and simply say thank you because I know you really like Utah hair and thats what it looked like on Saturday. But later that day at Blockbuster the clerk said " I like that ring on your left hand" - wait for it......."Its sooo cute, like a little princess ring". That's where I draw the line. Whats next? A license plate that reads 'PRNCSS'? Or a sticker that says "Daddy bought it but I got it"? NO. I do NOT except that compliment. I wanted to reach over the counter and strangle her while yelling "TAKE IT BACK....TACK..IT...BACK"!!! But I didn't because I chose to take the high road and think ill of her in my head. Today in class my friend Saul sat by me and as I looked at him I realized something. "I think we are wearing the same pants. No really, I think we have on the exact same pants" I told him. "Is that bad for you or me?" he asked. "Yes" I replied. And that was definitely NOT a compliment.

100% Cotton my eye

I hate getting ready for bed. I hate the whole process and I hate wasting my time with this nightly ritual. All I ever want to do at the end of the night is fall into my bed makeup on and teeth unbrushed and sleep the night away. But my whole life I've always heard "NEVER sleep with your makeup on". And since its usually some model or famous makeup artist saying it I just do it. Must be the secret to fabulosity. And to be honest, I've slept with my makeup on and its bad, really bad. There is nothing like a nice clump of mascara in your eye to get you up and at 'em the next morning. So tonight, like a good human being, I began the ritual. Pin bangs away from face, pull hair into pony tail, slip on headband, brush teeth for at least one minute(Sensodyne recommends it), pluck stray eyebrow hairs, remove eye makeup, wash face, dry face, apply toner and take out hair. Except this time things went horribly wrong after washing my face. I reached for my towel and began the process of drying my face off when BAM! Towel in the eye. TOWEL IN THE EYE! Somehow during this repetitive motion my guiding fingers went off course and headed on a crash course for my left eye. Its hard to describe the feeling of forest green terrycloth soaking up all your eye juices but it feels a little something like this; a combination of an air conditioner blowing right in your eye with the dull pain you get from pressing on your eye sockets too long. All in all not the best night cap I've ever had. Must be more careful next time. Thanks a lot Martha Stewart for your 100% cotton towels, thanks a lot.

A la Discotheque? A la Discotheque!

Club Biblioteca was bumpin tonight! I'd been waiting all day to go out tonight. I got all ready in my grey cashmere sweater and dark denim with matching Manolo's. Parking was a bit of a headache but when I got to the door I was let right through, must be ladies night. With 5 floors of non-stop dancing I didn't know where to start. I headed to the back of the second floor where I knew I could work on my moves without being recognized before meeting up with the crew. I decided to hit up the fifth floor next where I found my friend Capua in the 'party of one' section. He confessed to hitting up the club every night that week whe I mentioned he looked a bit fatigued. The club will be there another day I said as I moved across the dance floor. Hey, I thought to myself, I know that guy ! So I do-si-doed my way to his table and said hello. I can NEVER remember his name which is terrible, but I do know that he's in law school and loves to lift weights. Just then I noticed ward nerd crush sitting right across the table from him! I should have know he would love Club Biblioteca....he's so hip that way. I shifted my attention to him and chatted him up before starting a dialogue between law man and nerd crush, I'm so good. I left with some parting words, "see you on sunday...looking forward to it"! the fifth floor was getting old so I decided to hit the bar on the third floor. I was waiting in line when I heard my name from across the floor. It was Liz, Jenapers friend. I tried to avoid eye contact since I had uninvited her to my soiree this weekend but she came over to me none the less. "hey Liz, I didn't know you came here a lot". "Oh yeah, all the time. I'm actually here with your sis Jenaper in the VIP lounge" she added. "Cool, I'll head over there in a minute when I get my drink" I told her. I got my turn in line and headed to the VIP area. On my way I saw 'do you want to go get a sprite' guy mixing it up at the turntables. I decided to be nice and headed that direction. He took off his headphones as I leaned my arm on the DJ booth. He looked really surprised that I was there so I struck up a nice dialogue about him and he loosened up. He was there with another aquaintance who smiled at us as he swayed to the sick beatz being dropped. "Well, gotta make an appearance in the lounge, see you friday" I half yelled over the music. Just like promised Liz and Jenaper were kickin it in the lounge with huge flat screens displaying pictures set to music. "This is sooo cool" I said softly, "I have to come here more often"! I met Liz's brother for the first time as he told me how he was going to party in Croatia for 2 years. He is hard-core that way, learning Serbian to have a good time. I was pretty pooped after the long night so I said my adieu's and made my way to the door. "And by the way Liz, you are re-invited to the fiesta this weekend" I yelled over the music. A couple minutes later I was out into the fresh air again walking to my car. I should have done valet. Oh well, I'll be back.

King of the Jungle

I went into the Lions den today only to discover the Lion may just be a regular cat. Not one of the cats Mo likes to laugh at that look like Hitler (they call them Kitlers), but just a regular 'ole cat. Just what am I referring too? I went home with class bro today - not like that dirty minds. We were supposed to study the Middle East after class for our test. "Where should we go?" he asked after class. "We could go upstairs or somewhere else, whatever you want" I replied. "We could go to my house" he suggested. Hmmmm, go to his house? Why would I walk all the way to his house to study when campus is full of places to study. Thats kind of the idea of campus after all. "But my car is parked on the other side of the world from your house and I don't want to walk all the way back there after. You know how much I hate walking (lie)." I said. "my house is really close and I'll drive you back to your car after" he offered. So I agreed, mostly out of curiosity. Turns out he lives in a house that my friends Tim/Chad occupied circa 2003? Then my friends Bubba/Craig took over circa 2004-05. Now it belongs to class bro circa now.

Everyone I met looked really surprised to see me. I couldn't tell if it was a suprised 'she is too cute for you' or 'she is not cute enough for you' or a surprised 'she is not the normal skank who stays around all night, all the time' kind of look. But they all seemed pacified when they learned we were just studying. Phew. The last thing you want is to anger a bunch of bros. They could go wild and whip you with their puka shell necklaces before running over you and your house in their raised trucks. Besides the periodic 'I must pause to discuss the ridiculous things I do with with my friends' to the roomates during studying it went quite well and was most helpful. It turns out he has some pretty normal friends that don't look like they might burst into a rhoid rage at any minute. One even had steps cut into his hair - pretty bitchin stuff. In fact, he kinda reminds me of an ex-boy-friend we call Lilo. A little too bro but with potential. All he needs is someone to show him the ways of assembling an amazing closet and loosing up on all the "buddy" talk and he could really be something. But don't worry, I have no interest in going there. I have done the dark hair and light eyes combo for the last couple of years and I have sworn off it. It does NOT work out well for me - please hold comments back on this one. I just can't pull another love 'em and leave 'em at my age, its not becoming not to mention time consuming.

But I still have a little voice in the back of my head saying....."Oh come on, let us. Cher's main thrill in life is a makeover".

My Cabeza Hurts

My head hurt today. I rarely get headaches but I had one today. I stayed up too late last night making new music mixes and I payed for it today. But I did realize that I am really good at, seriously. Work was interesting today. El Guille exhibited major signs of hanging out with me today. Sign #1: I was in the kitchen cutting up an apple when I heard "Oh my GOSH" from the living room. #2: He learned how to say, "for the love" today. #3: After learning the phrase from #2 I said, "your mama isn't going to like that one very much" to which he replied, "no YOUR mom isn't going to like that". #4: most things I say are followed with "no YOUR ........". Baby didn't want to eat or sleep or play this afternoon which didn't help the headache but he's just sooo cute that it doesn't matter too much. The headache was further pushed into my brain when I had to take abuela to the bank after work. That is always a process which takes much longer than necessary and much energy to get through. I was done. So I climbed the stairs to my wing of the house and took a little ciesta to allow the Ibuprofen to work its magic. I woke up an hour later resolved to make it to Yoga. I went, but it was NOT pretty. I knew something was wrong during my first crocodile (basically a push-up) when my arms felt like they had been smeared with tubs and tubs of burning Ben-gay. I couldn't even make it to up-dog once tonight during my sun salutations. It went from bad to worse. My balance, which is actually my forte, decided to stay home as I wibbled and wobbled all over the place. I felt horrible and much worse I looked horrible trying to gracefully execute warrior 3. I finally decided to cut my losses 10 min. early when I decided that if I was going to be sick I'd rather do it at home than in front of the fine people at 24hr. And to make matters worse, Tuesday TV nights suck, they are utterly dismal. I mean, have you ever tried to watch 'Cavemen' or 'Carpoolers'? I'd rather admit that I wrote the WHOLE Burn Book by myself. There was nothing to entertain me as I lay motionless on the couch - why couldn't this have happened on Thursday? But don't worry, even though I am word vomiting, there was no actual vomit.

6-5-4-3-2

I made class bro angry today. Not the same kind of angry as when he showed me his bruises from snowboarding and I pushed on one. He was really NOT happy that time. All I could think to say at the time was "sorry, that's what I would do to my brother". We had to go to the Geography office today to read some articles for class. Being the 25 yr old that I am I ditched him after class to make it there first to steal the only copy -only to find out there was more than one. Stupid. We sat a seat apart in the office reading and filling out our papers until we were done. We left together and as we waited for the elevator I said "you are such a suck-up." And then I imitated him, "thanks soooo much (secretary name). Nice to see you, blah, blah".

And then he started. "Its not about sucking up, its about being nice blah, blah...I've talked to her a couple of times, blah. blah" And the elevator slowly inched down the floors 6-5-4 "its about being a people person, blah, blah" 3-2-home. Finally. And as we stepped off the elevator I smiled and said "you know I'm just giving you a hard time" and went for the door. He followed into the sunshine and said "smells like smoke out here". "yeah, I've picked it up again" I said nonchalantly. "So, you want to study on wednesday?" he asked. "Yup, sure thing. Toodle-loo" I answered. And just like that it was over. Just another day in the life of Laquina where I Work hard to give you a hard time so you don't have to.

I saved a small country today - what did YOU do?

While I was hanging out on campus today I saw an empty table with attached balloons and two chairs. I had an idea. "We cannot let that table go to waste" I told Mike. "Its the perfect set-up for petition signing. But what cause can we make up that is totally ridiculous?" I asked. So we debated over many stupid things and finally came up with ...........

That's right, Save Azbiristan! In case you are wondering they are suffering from an oppressive military dictatorship under the cruel hand of their dictator Chachumpskie. "Chumpatize Chachumpskie!" Cousin E. pleaded with the passerby's. I went for a more religious angle, "put your shoulder to the wheel and help!", "help us help someone else", "have you done any good in the world today?", "only you can prevent book burning!" Mike had to keep helping me remember how to say the dictators name that I came up with. I explained to anyone who would listen about the plight of the Azbiristanis. "They are burning books and limiting education for the children. They are harassing nuns and burning churches. Sign this petition that we will send to the UN to show them that someone cares!".

We had a couple of people ask where Azbiristan was to which I simply replied.."its by all the other 'stans' in central Asia. You know, Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, its right there". Only one girl questioned us for a while but she was no match for me and my quick thinking brains.
"It would help if you guys had more information out for people to read and you don't seem very passionate about it. Also, I've never really heard of this.....what do you expect the President to do about this, blah, blah, blah."
To which I replied....."I'm not going to lie, this was a little last minute I wish I had more information to give you, but we just wanted to do something, anything to help. And I am very into giving the Azbiristanis the freedom they deserve. They don't get much press because the media is always reporting on the middle east and ignoring this area. And we don't expect the President to do anything that doesn't serve his self interests so we decided to bypass him and go straight to the UN. Help the children read, sign your name". She was finally bested and signed her name only to come back 15 min later to see the name of the country so she could "look it up" later. Fine. Look it up and see that after all that YOU are the one who got chumpatized. After about an hour we decided to dis-band the protest with 14 signatures to save Azbiristan.....I think thats a new Azbiristani record! And in conclusion I leave you with the liberation song Cousin E sang next to our table to help the cause;
"Help save Azbiristan fro-o-o-m that evil man, he uses lot's of crooks to burn up all their books".

"Behind the Sun"

I went to the movies alone tonight for the first time, just how I wanted it. I saw the most beautiful Brazilian film at the International cinema. It had everything I could have wanted in a foreign film; brotherly love, family feuds, breathtaking scenery, forbidden love and death. I didn't cry and I don't remember laughing but I remember being mesmerized by the way the camera made poetry of the story. I grinned ear to ear at the shear beauty of it. The music was haunting and warm as it floated through scene after scene. I was completely sucked into this world created in the badlands of Brazil. And the kiss.......oh yes, the kiss......it was a great one. The ending left you to make up your own conclusions, but in a really good way. I left the theater on a different plane, pure satisfaction. Its movies like this that wake me up from the contented sleep I fall into once in a while. It reminded me of all the things I hope to do one day that always end up falling by the wayside every so often.

So do yourself a favor and go see it this week. And if you want someone to go with you please call me because it plays 3 more times and I will go to all of them. I will definitely be back for seconds.

I don't know why I'm in such a good mood today but I am. I have nothing special to celebrate. In fact, I have a cold and a math test to take today. Not the best recipe for a great day, maybe the Mac and Cheese I had for breakfast has something to do with it.

I have this song called "Big Sur" by The Thrills stuck in my head. It is the perfect song for a sunny day and it reminds me of the time I went to Big Sur. The first time I went to Pebble Beach this summer we got our work done and went to play. We drove down the coast from Carmel to Big Sur at the insistence of Dan, our housing site contact. Amazing views of the ocean enveloped us as we headed toward our destination. We found a restaurant off the side of the road famous for its river chairs. Thats right, River chairs. There was a river running behind the restaurant at the far end of the lawn with wooden chairs placed throughout. You didn't even need to eat there, you just walked right over to the river and claimed your spot. We grabbed 3 chairs and positioned them in the sun.
Another great sunny day. The calm before the storm. I don't know how many more sunny days we have to enjoy but I plan on living them up to the fullest. Anyone is welcome to come along. And please, don't listen to The Thrills when they say "please don't go back to big sur...". GO....Just go.

Schedued Maintenance

Thanks for the patience while my site is under construction. Don't worry though, we are still open for business during this much needed face lift.

Gone Fishin

I woke up Saturday morning with one thought: fishing. Although I haven't been in years I really love to do it and it was such a beautiful day. I talked my dad into handing over his coveted khaki fishing vest with pockets brimming with such delicacies as dry flies, lures, bobbles and swiss army knives. He taught me how to tie a fly on a piece of rope (because its easier to see that way) and grabbed me some fishing poles. "Hey, I recognize this reel..its yours! This is the nice one....nice" I squealed. I pulled on my baseball shirt, grabbed a sweatshirt, two fleece jackets, two pairs of socks (one wool), gloves, a hat and my old hiking shoes - I like to be prepared. I picked up my friend Tara (see above picture) in her rain boots and some lawn chairs and we headed over to Mike's (also in the above picture). While Mike was grabbing his fleece and another coat I made a sign that said 'Gone Fishin' to put on his door. We piled into Mike's rugged Subaru and took off as I complained about having to leave the brightly colored wooden dingy in the driveway behind.

Next stop: Macey's for some fishing license's. 10 min. later with my wallet $8 lighter I held an authorized day fishing license from the state of Utah. Mike got one as well and Tara got a baguette, salami, provolone, Twizzlers and Vitamin Water (it has electrolytes) and we took off without a second glance. We headed straight for Pleasant Grove while stuffing our bread full of meat and cheese laughing about old stories and remarking about the lovely weather. We hit American Fork Canyon and it was like we had found another planet. Folded mountains, rushing water, sparkling trees; a dream come true. Suddenly around the corner we came upon the most beautiful green lake surrounded by majestic mountains (also in the photo above). From here we turned away from civilization and headed up a long, bumpy dirt road with switchbacks climbing higher and higher in altitude.

Suddenly inspiration hit and Tara plugged in her ipod which began to pour forth the triumphant sounds of Last of the Mohicans as we crested the last hill. We felt as though we had just conquered something really big as Tara searched the horizon for Indians on the attack. No Indians dared show their faces as we drove around the sad remains of a once great lake. The drought had rendered Silver Lake into a large dusty bowl with a small pool of water. My childhood stomping grounds were nothing but dust clouds swirling around pebbles. I could picture this lake as what it used to be; large, dark and full of hungry trout. I used to stand on the shore with my fishing pole and sing my fish song that I had learned from Bert and Ernie on Sesame Street; "Here fishy-fishy.....here fishy, fishy". I always caught a fish then, this time I would leave empty handed. The fish ignored our lures and I was too tired of tying flies after losing the first one to a faulty line to try more.

We alternated the two poles between the three of us as we soaked up the sun and laughed at our bad casts and one in particular of mine that ended with half my pole in the lake (don't worry, I reeled it back in). The sun suddenly disappeared behind the mountains and our breath appeared white against the scenery. We packed ourselves up and drove our empty hands back down the mountain to the same triumphant soundtrack. The sun dipped lower and lower along with our altitude until we found ourselves once again in Pleasant Grove at the Purple Turtle for dinner. We ordered cheeseburgers, onion rings, grilled cheese and 'Tornado" shakes. I used to save the gum from the bubble gum Tornado I always got on a napkin in the back of the caravan much to my mothers chagrin.

It was the perfect day and a great start to my goal of 'Revisiting Utah' this year. Thanks for an amazing day Tara and Mike.....just amazing.

FINALLY

Big day everyone. I finally took the tag off and wore a skirt that I bought about 4 years ago. I feel liberated and more than a little surprised that I hadn't given it away by now. Its actually a really beautiful silver satin with navy blue flowers that I could not match to anything. I never "outfit" shop. If I like something I get it, regardless of whether i have the perfect shoes or jacket to go with it. I think thats a waste of time. You never know until you get something home next to your wardrobe what it goes with and more often than not you are pleasantly surprised by its versatility. But this skirt was different. The navy was just dark enough to never match any other navy made on this earth and I never had the right shoes. Now 4 years later the navy cashmere sweater my mom got me last year (which also still had the tags on until today) and the patent red leather heels I got this summer complete the look. Feelin good people....feelin REAL good right about now.

Ow

I have always loved going to the Dentist. I have never been afraid of getting my teeth fixed. In fact, I have been known to fall asleep in the Dentists chair regularly. I think it has something to do with being reclined, the soft warm glow of the lights and already having my mouth open. I just love the end result: teeth so smooth and silky you could mistake them for silk. The only thing I struggle with while in the dental chair is where to cast my gaze. For a long time there were no TV's in the office and I always felt awkward just staring into the hygienist's eyes, and I wondered if they were thinking "quit staring at me....look somewhere else, I just work here". But then they got TV's which alleviated some of the pressure, but they are always to the side and make my inner eyeballs hurt from looking one direction for too long. I got my teeth cleaned in August which was amazing after the long summer months except for the cavity I pointed out to the Dentist. We filled it and voile la! Back to normal, until a couple of weeks ago. I started feeling pain when brushing my teeth, on the lower right side (as they say in the dental world). It didn't hurt when I ate, just when I brushed my teeth. I got some Sensodyne toothpaste and no change. The same vein puncturing pain was still there. That's when I knew I had to get a professional. Well.. that and the big dark spot forming in my tooth. I got an appt and went straightaway after my nanny job. My Dentist bills himself as "gentle dental" and normally that is correct. I never feel anything and if I happen to I never mind because I've always been a sucker for that dull mouth pain. In fact, I always loved having a loose tooth so I could slowly push on it....good times. But back to today, I sat in the chair, leaned back and waited for my prognosis. "Wow, no pain when you eat...just when you brush? That's definitely a new one" said the assistant. Oh great I thought. I have just been diagnosed with a rare form of tooth something. Then the doctor came in, "so are talking about this brown spot here?" he said using a mirror. "No, this one....wait, what other brown spot?!" I squeaked. I felt like I had just gone to Dr. Ray's office and he told me that I should probably fix my saddle bags and drooping eye's when all I wanted was to fix a scar. "This huge dark area that hurts when I brush" I repeated. So he poked around and around and scraped here and there before consulting some x-rays. "I don't really see anything on the x-rays" he said. "When did you take those x-rays because I don't remember having any recently" I pointed out. "Yeah, these are from January. We should probably take some new ones". Thanks Doc, did I really have to tell you that? Aren't you supposed to know? Before you all start labeling me an anti-dentite keep listening, it gets better. "Well, it looks like an old filling is beginning to darken and since its bothering you we'll just replace it, got time right now?" he said. "Yup, let's do it" I replied. And then things began to get a little too Halloween for me. He numbed the area and then began giving me shots with the largest metal syringe I have ever seen. It seemed like forever he had his hand in my mouth and he just kept injecting, injecting and injecting into my gums. Finally with that done he asked me if I had a bad taste in my mouth and I answered no, not wanting to admit that I actually liked the taste of the stuff. And then the fun began. He pulled out the small drill, no sweat. We go way back. Then he pulled out the industrial drill that could have made its way through concrete. He lowered it into my mouth and all of the sudden I was covered in goose bumps and body shakes. My brain was sloshing to and fro with the sound of a metal zip-line in my left ear and a weed-whacker in my right. I had never experienced this drill before. It just kept coming, again and again and again. I wanted to scream "I don't like this very much!" but I just clasped my hands tighter and waited for the earthquake to subside. He rinsed the hole out while the assistant drained the water and sucked up my tongue with the suction hose over and over. He filled it with some white substance that smelled like a construction site which made me think he was basically dry-walling my mouth. Electric lights, hard pressure, metal pieces...it was all a blur. Then he asked for "the explorer" and received a large hook which he picked at my tooth with and I kept thinking, "please don't slip, don't slip and hook my cheek like a trout". Finally he said "we will just sand this down a bit and you'll be done". Finally! He began to sand away and it made this terrible high pitched noise that was new to me. And all I could think in my head was..."those are the sound of the shrieking eels, they always grow louder when they are about to feed on human flesh!". Done. And as I sat up he said "its a good thing we replaced this, there was some deterioration there, good call". GOOD CALL? YOU ARE THE DENTIST, YOU SHOULD KNOW THIS STUFF!!!!!!

Exposed

LUKE'S DAD IS GAY!!!!!! That's right, the secret is out! His business partner is actually his lover. Who knew? Actually, I did. I've seen this episode more than a couple times. And then at dinner Ryan says, "I was just over at their house, they seemed so happy" to which Seth cleverly replies, "and if by happy you mean gay?". Every time, it kills me every time. To those who may scoff at the brilliance that is the OC, how can you deny the wit in the above scenario? You can't. Which is why I love the show, that and its all about secrets. There is someone else who is all about secrets......ME. I love to hear them, to have them and to make them. Sometimes the secret slips out right away: "OK Jenn, I took your free sample of Dove lotion that came in the mail today...its in my room". Sometimes the secret comes out years later: "Oh yeah mom and dad, I used to steal ALL the time. I NEVER got caught. I was real good at it too, you proud?" and some years after that: "Mom, I set our backyard on fire. I burnt a good half of it. I still count it as a miracle that you never found out.....I covered the burned area with grass from the untouched areas. Guess it worked like a charm. Oh, and I set the carport on fire too, which explains all the black marks on the floor. Sorry". And sometimes they never come out: "Remember............" (come on, there are some things I will NEVER share). And just like today, there are secrets I need to confess out loud to lessen the personal shame I feel. The guilt is weighing on me and its real heavy. My name is Laquina and....I'm back to therapeutic shopping. I'm not proud of it even though I like it. I can't help but sparkle when I hear things like "I love your shoes, I just had to tell you". Don't judge me, or judge me and tell me what you think of the two new pairs of jeans I have bought in the last two weeks - do you like them? And I may or may not have bought two pairs of heels in the last two weeks as well (its a sickness). I stopped shopping after the summer, just quit cold turkey. The thought of stepping into the mall made me want to dry heave, going to the grocery store gave me headaches and the thought of TJ Maxx had me breaking out in hives. I guess it had something to do with shopping in 5 major cities and 2 countries in 4 months while lugging all my loot around with me. I had to send 2 boxes home during the summer with clothes that just wouldn't fit into my suitcases any longer. But I did get some GREAT things (thank you SoHo!).
My friend Jeff asked me to help him shop for some jeans tonight so I gladly went along. I think he tried on 90% of the jeans at Nordstrom. It was a denim killing ground with the remains of fallen washes and boot-cuts strewn all over the dressing room. After a long while we found them! The perfect dark denim to compliment his lower torso. After we left the store with a pair of jeans and a new sweater he put his arm around me and thanked me for helping him. "Most other people would have gotten sick of this by now" he said as we headed to CPK. Looking down at my feet I said almost in a whisper, " I just like to shop...even if its not for me".

Ring me up

My friend Tara made me watch a truly horrendous movie last night, Becoming Jane. I mean it was terrible! Now it wasn't badly made, it just didn't have a happy ending. I know all movies can't have happy endings because its not realistic, but this one just left me with a bad taste in my mouth. It left me contemplating which is never a good thing because I can just contemplate all night long over nothing and end up with no solution and bags under my eyes the next day. But this is what I thought...

We live in a society of instant gratification. You want the bigger house, you get it. You want a faster car, you buy it. You want a younger face, you suck the fat out of your butt and inject it in your face (or have someone help you). I am no different. I wanted the fancy jeans, I bought them. I wanted the expensive haircut, I got it. I wanted a L.A.M.B. sweatsuit, I got it. But unfortunately my list of wants never seems to get shorter, it just grows exponentially while my meager salary stays the same.

Then there are the things I want but have to work towards - even I cannot buy every Marc Jacobs sweater I want, even though there is a gorgeous grey on that I WILL have. I have to save my quarters to indulge my vain desires. And finally there are the things I want desperately but will probably never get my hands on like a supple leather Gucci bag with purple suede lining or a pair of hidden platform stiletto Louboutin's. But thats ok, these are all just material things that I can live without. In the movie Jane gives up on love because she is too practical. I symapthized with her. I would never go into debt for clothing let alone elope with someone who had a large Irish family to support - they eat more than just potatoes these days you know. But it seemed so unfair.

What holds us back from living like today is our last? What are we afraid of? If you truly care about someone, shouldn't you let them know? I happen to think that living with 'what ifs' is much more depressing than just knowing the truth, good or bad. Merriam-Webster's defines Torture as: anguish of body or mind. AKA the black leather 4.25 inch hidden platform mary jane's from Urban Oufitters on back order until December. Or is it actually secretly loving someone and never acting on it?

So I guess the real question is; When do you stop saving your pennies for that Fendi spy bag and go for the Ralph Lauren at TJ Maxx instead.....or do you?
Any thoughts???

Watch Yourself

I started watching the OC again last night starting with episode one. There are so many good things about that show that I wouldn't know where to begin. But amongst the vast brilliance of the show was the many catch phrases I gleamed from watching week after week. The most unforgettable phrase I adopted comes directly from episode one. Luke (the token water polo player) kicks Ryan (the token bad boy from Chino) in the gut after a scuffle involving Seth (the token smart, sarcastic nerd) and declares "Welcome to the OC bitch"! What more could you want in the first ever episode? Nothin. Unfortunately I liked that phrase a little too much and it became part of my regular vernacular.....
"Welcome to my room b**ch"
"Welcome to Provo b**ch"
"Welcome to the mall b**ch"
"Well welcome to your life b**ch"

Then one day I realized that if I didn't stop soon that I might be hearing "Lisha, YOU are a b**ch" soon. I thought I was done using that phrase until I started watching the show again. But I guess it reached deep into my psyche and I awoke in a panic this morning when I thought I heard "Welcome to college algebra b**ch" echoing in my head. What? OH NO. I haven't done anything...not one thing. I cannot fail this class. I lay there paralyzed unable to go back to sleep or get out of bed. I just lay there contemplating the terror that is math just waiting for my alarm to go off. I pictured walking to my professors office to beg for forgiveness. But the door just seemed to slink farther away from me as the hall got longer and longer like in a scary movie. What am I gonna do? This math is totally "mad-doggin" me.

Looks like I'm gonna be spending some happy holidays doing make-up work. But I did this to myself so I guess I shouldn't get all "butt-hurt" over it.

Danger

I littered tonight. On campus. On BYU campus. I was walking to the testing center to prove my knowledge of all things Middle Eastern when I decided to chew a piece of gum. I folded the wrapper up into a neat geometric shape like always and pushed it around in my hand. Now the dilemma: Do I hold off until the next garbage can, or do I throw it into the night?
I twiddled it in my fingers as I neared the testing center.....and then POP! I flicked it into the shrubbery from a shaded area of the sidewalk after the street lamp. Why'd I do it?
Cheap thrill I guess. I'm into cheap thrills and million dollar billz.

Crazy

I called Mo tonight because I think I'm going crazy. Maybe I'm not crazy, but I just want to do crazy things. Mo is my resident crazy therapist....
"you did what? I can't believe you did that"
"No, I don't think that's a good idea. Definately do NOT do that"
"Never do anything in the moment of craziness"
"Josh agrees, do not tell him"
"you are just acting crazy"
"remember when you used to call ME crazy?"

Yes Mo, I remember when I called you crazy. Thanks for passing it on to me. I have a number of married friends who seem to have passed the crazy torch for single people to me. "here, can you take this crazy torch for me? I don't need it anymore" So now I carry around about 5 peoples crazy torches. Thats a lot for one person. So far I have been able to keep the crazy at bay in the public eye, but not in private. I think I have narrowed down the three sources that cause most of my problems:
!. Too much time on my hands
2. The dreadlocks starting to form in my hair
3. Facebook

The solutions:
1. I have started to think of my life as an off-shoot of Hugh Grants character in about a boy. I separate my day into units of time. 1 hour for hanging out with friends on campus, 1/2 hour for heading outside with Abuela and her Jazzy chair, 1 hour for yoga, 1/2 hour for The Hills, 45 min. for eating chips and salsa, and 1 hour for staring at my pores (I'm trying to cut back).
2. I have to cut my hair.
3. Stop spying on people via "the internet". I don't think thats what "the internet people" had in mind when they created "the internet". But unfortunately its too easy to snoop into peoples lives on facebook and end up disappointed when you find your secret crush flirting with someone else. Thanks "internet" (carina, that was for you. I know you know "the internet").

As Mo talked me into slowly setting my crazy torch down tonight she mentioned how her baby is teething. So soon I asked? How do you know? She said well, he has been fed and changed, what else could it be? And when I give him his teething ring he just gnaws on it. And thats when it hit me. I have been fed, I went to the bathroom, what else could it be?
I need a teething ring. Something to gnaw on for hours to make me feel better. And then I discovered that I do have a type of teething ring. Movies. When I'm mad or happy, or frustrated or crazy I put on a movie with a corresponding feeling and watch it until I can hit the streets non-crazy.
I am on my 6th run of "Broken English" since Saturday night. I feel it kicking in. (and Mo, does the Boo make you crazy? cause that might explain things)

Pretty Please.....?

I'm ready.....

To Date. I reemerged after this summer feeling not quite myself. After running a couple of red lights and getting lost on the way to Lowe's I realized the person I had once been was gone. I learned a lot about myself this summer and the things that I'm good at. I can will myself to do what needs to be done even when all I want to do is go home and sleep for three days. I have the strength to stand up to those who try to see how much they can get away with. I can put a smile on my face after receiving blow after blow and I like having a job, who knew? I started this school year much like any other buying books and finalizing my class schedule, but I still didn't feel like myself. And as the weeks passed I realized that the biggest change in me was the desire to date. This will only seem weird to those of you who don't know me very well. Sure, I have complained about everyone else having boyfriends and being lonely on the occasional Friday night but I never wanted to really have that. I'm not sure why, although my mothers voice whispering "you should date more" in my ear helps, but I feel like it now. So after careful consideration of sisters, friends, strangers, etc. I have decided yes - I DO want to date your brothers, neighbors, co-workers, nephews and mechanics. In the interest of avoiding creeps and selling myself too much I have opted out of a picture but here is some info.

About me:
I'm 25
In my last year at the Y studying Geography:Global Studies.
The idea of my next trip gets me out of bed and motivated.
I love sitting on the porch with friends more than almost any activity.
I have trouble falling asleep at night and dragging myself out of bed the next day.
I love to make and laugh at jokes that make you feel kind of terrible....but not enough to not share them.
I have great taste in music(see me for details)
I have a wardrobe to kill for.
I once let the song "TNT" by AC/DC inspire a haircut.
I'm excellent at quoting movies.
I love MTV reality shows.
I can bake and cook alongside the best of them...minus my eldest sister.
I struggle with simple math.
I like to learn pick-up lines in different languages.
I like to use pick-up lines in English.
I'm fairly bendy.
I like background noise.
I tan easily, and lose it just as fast.
I craved rootbeer for two months straight last year
I'm good with kids, but even I have my limits.
I am currently working on creative solutions for global issues such as: Romanian orphans, all things Chinese and how to settle once and for all who has the best health care system.
I excel at imitating people's walks.
I recently mastered liquid eyeliner(my biggest accomplishment of '07).
I met Pharrell.
I love gaudy catholic art - especially the wearable kind.
I hablo the Espanish.
Natural Brunette with an enviable profile.
Former excellent speller....I don't know what happened.
I could eat chips and salsa everyday.
I make and keep my new years resolutions (this years, which actually started a little early in September, is to watch more action movies).
I make a decent first impression which I usually ruin right away with sarcasm.
Once you get past that you end up loving me.


If this sounds like I'm selling myself I kind of am. Consider this a personal ad in one way or another. When I want something I tend to chase after it and then deal with the consequences. But even this doesn't seem worse then when I put up flyer's on campus to meet Mohawk Man. Just remember my idea of the perfect evening is dinner and then home. That way if things are going well you end it before someone says something stupid and if things are not going well you cut it off. Dinner and then home.

Creature of Habit

I like things to stay the same. I sit in the same place at the dinner table that I've always sat at, I put on my deodorant and lotion in the same order as I always have, I make sure the toilet paper and its holder face the same direction as usual. I just like consistency.

And I hate when someone messes things up.....like sitting in my place at the dinner table. "Move it cousin E. or I'm going to cut you....you know I sit there".

This extends outside of home as well. I pick a seat in class the first day and I always sit there - ALWAYS. This usually is not a problem. Unstated class etiquette laws dictate that you just sit in the same place or very near to it, don't you think? Apparently not everyone feels the same way I do.

Thus begins the continuing saga of "Class Fight", a touching yet filled with hatred story of a young girls journey to sit in her rightful seat. Although the title may suggest an enriching story of a down-trodden peasant trying to work their way up through the grueling class system....its actually about me trying not to clothesline a classmate.
The players:LaQuina, Texas Josh and Smug Married.

Last week-

Incident 1: While sitting in my chair enduring a terrible lecture on Urban planning I readjusted my feet for the second time in 45min. on the book holder located below smug marrieds desk in front of me. There was no kicking, shaking or any otherwise obnoxious movement on the book holder coming from me. Me feet were just tired and wanted to move badly(maybe I have RLS). Immediately after the shift smug married turned around and said "can we NOT have the feet anymore?" in a very vicious tone. So much so that the guy next to me turned and mouthed "yikes" with a terrified face. Not wanting to draw attention to myself in front of "looks like you have something to say" teacher I held my tongue.

Incident 2: Two days later I resumed my usual seat in class as smug married made his way back to the scene of the crime. Wanting to avoid any more mouthed "yikes" in my direction I decided to be proactive and said "you might not want to sit there because I'm GONNA put my feet up again" to smug married. After shooting me a look he huffed his way up the row to the front and squatted there.

Incident 3: Thinking I had won the battle I went to class and waited patiently outside the door for the previous class to exit and that's when I noticed smug married on the opposite side of the door avoiding eye contact. As the last person stepped out of the class room I began to make my ascent until I was brutally interrupted by smug married bum-rushing the door and pushing me aside! Yeah, he actually rushed the door! And then proceeded to run mario brothers style with his little legs to sit in MY seat. Oh no you didn't! I was so shocked that I sat two seats away from him and made Texas Josh be no mans land in the middle. As Texas Josh took his place he leaned over and said "what's with this guy sitting here?" I tried to keep my voice hush as I described the ongoing feud with the Punk-ass smug married. I could barely control myself and tried to keep my rage blackout at bay.

This week-
Incident 4: We were both late to class on Monday and thus had to sit in different areas, sort of like an unsanctioned cease-fire. Lucky for him I was not close enough to whisper "I'm going to break your freakin knee caps if you ever do that again" into his ear. But I thought about how good that would feel.

Incident 5: Smug married once again resumed his place opposite the class door as people exited and once again bum-rushed the door choosing to sit in the back but one seat over from my usual. I think he can feel my barely controlled urge to see blood on the SWKT floor.

This battle is far from over - I can feel it. Can you believe this guy? Little does he know the kind of things I went through this summer. It would be nothing for me to shave my head, start doing push-ups and pull-ups and throwing myself over walls after crawling through the mud and rain to prove myself in the armed forces. Wait......that's GI Jane. But seriously, I lived in LA this summer. That Ese better watch his back or I will go Guadalajara on his ass.

Stay tuned for the next class period....

There are many things that I learned on my weekend trip to Honduras that I wanted to bring back with me like how to zip-line through the jungle and eat off the street without losing my insides. But as I left Central America with all this new information to share I realized that I was more full of questions about American life. Why do we do things the way we do? Isn't there a better way? There are so many things that I want to start doing the third-world way. Here is a list:
>glass shards on the top of fences - it really keeps the riff-raff out and looks so pretty in the sunlight
>packing people into cars - there is totally enough room, isn't that what carpooling is all about?
>buying underwear off the street...literally off the street - if you know anything about having a good time its going to end up there anyways
>returning glass bottles on the spot to the neighborhood store to get your next beverage cheaper - who wants the 5cent recycle price anyway, but who doesn't want another Fanta limon?
>a sing-along party soundtrack starring Celine Dion and Michael Bolton - you know why
>no crosswalks - really you should just be able to walk whenever and wherever you want
>and the best one of all.....Live advertisements at gas stations! At first you think that the above video is just some awesome dancers doing their thing. Until you realize that they are really dancing in front of a gas station......and they really cant dance (especially the chica on the far left) - I really don't think Americans would mind the high gas prices so much if they had this to take their mind off how much they were spending.

So Gracias Honduras for showing me a better way. Soon enough we will all be dumping our garbage in the nearest river instead of overflowing our landfills!

My Sixth Sense

How do I know things? I just know. Like today for example when I was getting dressed and opted out of a cute little pink sweater vest in favor of this short-sleeve sweater that hasn't seen the light of day in a year. I didn't know why it felt so right until I got to school and discovered that it was National Speak Like a Pirate Day. How did I know? I just do.
Another thing I just know is how to spot a 'bro'. You know, the guys who cannot say hello without first saying "hey bro" aka the "yeah dudes".
Example....."yeah dude, that intramural football game was soooo sweet bra" or "hey bro, my buddies and I are going to long board down the canyon tonight....its soooo sick".
You get the picture. I just know 'em when I see 'em. And today was no exception. The following is my conversation with my "bro" class friend.
"Hey, I didn't even know that it was nat'l speak like a pirate day and look what I wore! See! That guy that just walked in is wearing a pirate hat and wig!"
Bro: "yeah....that guy is the reason I just dont fit in at BYU"
"what are you talking about?"
Bro: "well I live with all these guys from UVSC and they always apologize to people we meet that I go to BYU because I dont act like anyone at BYU because I'm cooler"
"but you seem like the typical BYU guy to me"
Bro: "No way, thats not who I am"
"Then who are you?"
Bro: "I dont want to talk about this right now"
"But I think you're pretty typical of this school you seem like a just another dude to me, don't you want to defend yourself?"
Bro: " I don't have to defend who I am to anyone"
"True.....but the other day on our homework you actually answered the question who is John Harris? with 'that dude who...'. And you say buddy and bro all the time. Do you call people 'boss'?"
Bro: "No, I hate when people say that"
"Right......you seem to fit in just fine to me"
And its not just conversations that give away the 'Bro" in people. Their dress says more than words ever can. White K-Swiss, cargo shorts, polo or any skate T-shirt. Which is exactly what class 'Bro' friend was wearing. You are what you are bro, just embrace it.
How do I know you are a Bro? I just do.