That is the question. Or that is a question, anyway.
I saw lol for the first time two years ago. Since then I've seen it more and more often. Most recently David has started saying it, "LOL!" Or more often, "Oh, LOL!" But only when he's speaking Polish. He says it when someone shows him a cool magazine or toy, or when he's crossing the street and a car zooms quickly by right behind him. "Oh lol!!" Yes, hilarious, David. So funny. You almost got run over by a car.
I don't ever remember writing lol except for when I was talking about the acronym and not using it. Instead, I will write old fashioned things like:
Hilarious!!
SO funny!
I laughed out loud!
BORING, I know. I'm going to start using new ones like:
Hysterical!!
So comical!
How humorous is that!
Very amusing.
But I just can't bring myself to do the LOL thing. Maybe it's partly because I have felt that, like David, many people just kind of use it as a catch-all phrase. A thing to type. Like at the beginning or end of a sentence, or just on it's own with an exclamation point or two. I personally don't have a problem finding things to type and therefore don't really need random acronyms, like some might.
I am coming to grips with the lol phenomenon, though. I must say I like seeing those three little letters in comments here on my blog. When I do, I imagine that the commenter actually laughed out loud. I'm sure it's not always the case, or maybe it's rarely the case, but I have a good imagination.
I talked to my husband about this last night and he said that he thinks a lot of people use it in place of a smiley face. Now THAT makes some sense. No, it doesn't make sense, I mean that it helps me make sense of people using it when I can't imagine what could possibly have made them laugh out loud. But a friendly smile? Those fit in anywhere. LOL!
And before you exit the blog, would you mind answering the poll in my sidebar?
*Those of you who read the dear Annie Valentine over at Regarding Annie, please know that I was planning on writing a post about this before I read hers. What can I say? Great minds think alike. And for the record, I didn't re-read hers before I typed this up to keep copying at a minimum.
Update: I just peeked over there to make the link, and remembered that she gives some excellent alternative acronyms.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Monday, November 3, 2008
Excuses, Excuses
Last year I read very few blogs, but I did see NaBloPoMo here and there and had no idea what it was. Then in April when I started blogging in earnest I read through some people's archives and learned that it stands for National Blog Post Month and you're supposed to post every day during the month of November. I decided then, in my early blogging enthusiasm, that I would do it.
Then recently I decided I was NOT going to do it, as I'm sort of bored with myself. But yesterday I realized that it's November and I happened to already post on both the first and the second, so I've changed my mind again and am planning to do it. I know, fickle fickle.
I've read a lot of people expressing their fear of the "pressure" of writing every day. If you know me at all, you know that the second I start feeling any of that, I break my writing-every-day contract, which I've made with exactly nobody.
EXCUSES FOR WRITING EVERY DAY
My main reason for wanting to write every day is in hopes that I will acquire the skill of writing posts that aren't 12 pages long. Of course, some posts will still be 12 pages long (NaBloPoMo isn't going to make an entirely new person of me), but I would like to be able to write less when called upon (that means when I want to).
Also, I'm pretty sure that from December 1st, after having posted 30 days in a row, starting back with my three times a week will feel great. Like I'm taking a nice long Hawaiian vacation in between each post. I'll have to be sure not to look out the window or go outside, though, as it will immediately dispel that illusion. December in Poland bears very little resemblance to any month in Hawaii. Well, neither does July in Poland, but whatever.
So, yeah. Those are my excuses. Not very convincing, maybe, but there you have it.
I'm sure I'm meant to say a word about the quality of upcoming posts. I'm not gonna, though, since I've never had much of a thing for "quality posting." I will say, though, that I have no plan at all as to what I will say day after day this month, which should be interesting. Or more likely, significantly less than interesting.
*cute button courtesy of Mombabe over at The Bingham Diaries
Then recently I decided I was NOT going to do it, as I'm sort of bored with myself. But yesterday I realized that it's November and I happened to already post on both the first and the second, so I've changed my mind again and am planning to do it. I know, fickle fickle.
EXCUSES FOR WRITING EVERY DAY
My main reason for wanting to write every day is in hopes that I will acquire the skill of writing posts that aren't 12 pages long. Of course, some posts will still be 12 pages long (NaBloPoMo isn't going to make an entirely new person of me), but I would like to be able to write less when called upon (that means when I want to).
Also, I'm pretty sure that from December 1st, after having posted 30 days in a row, starting back with my three times a week will feel great. Like I'm taking a nice long Hawaiian vacation in between each post. I'll have to be sure not to look out the window or go outside, though, as it will immediately dispel that illusion. December in Poland bears very little resemblance to any month in Hawaii. Well, neither does July in Poland, but whatever.
So, yeah. Those are my excuses. Not very convincing, maybe, but there you have it.
I'm sure I'm meant to say a word about the quality of upcoming posts. I'm not gonna, though, since I've never had much of a thing for "quality posting." I will say, though, that I have no plan at all as to what I will say day after day this month, which should be interesting. Or more likely, significantly less than interesting.
*cute button courtesy of Mombabe over at The Bingham Diaries
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Should Be Shown in All Elementary Schools Before and After Halloween
Not to brag or anything, but that would be my niece. I know you're wondering how I can stand to live across the ocean from her.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Part IV: A Relationship with Some Long Distance Parts
This story begins here and links can be followed at the bottom of each part.
Greg finished his translation gig with the Polish TV crew and was back home for my last week in Provo. We spent every waking minute together. It was bittersweet to feel so close, while anticipating the Great Separation.
hiking to Squaw Peak
I had been teased a tiny bit here and there that maybe Greg would pop the question before I could leave for my nannying job, but I laughed it off. The day before I left, there was a ward party at the bishop's house. I remember Greg was off talking to someone and I was sitting on the grass with a bunch of his roommates. One of them (the one who was going to ask me out and then asked my roommate out instead, who also, incidentally, asked me out while Greg was translating in SLC. Hello?) told me that he was willing to bet that Greg would ask me to marry him before I left (this 10 days after having asked me out to a movie behind Greg's back. I suppose he was thinking it couldn't hurt to try before it was too late*?).
I was a little a-flutter. What if? Could it be? No, probably not. It just didn't seem very likely. But he didn't seem too sad that I'd be leaving. He seemed as cheerful as ever. We had about 24 hours. Hmmmm.
The next day went far too quickly. Nothing happened. In the late afternoon a bunch of friends got together for a little farewell party. We got a few pictures with everyone and some of just me and Greg.
Then I said good bye and drove off. I was heading to California to spend a day or two at home, and would fly out to Maryland from there. While in California Greg and I spent a lot of time IMing each other. It was so nice. Still, it felt kind of strange to just go straight from dating to not dating, when we still talked to each other like we were dating.
I arrived in Maryland and met the ADORABLE little almost-two-year old and her parents. She was super cute and smart. Her parents were very nice and accommodating. I had the basement level to myself. Everything was perfect. I cried and cried anyway, and wondered what I had done. Here I was, far from the people I loved in this big empty house with people I didn't know. I had been promised that I would have email access, but there wasn't any. Instead I would just pay for my own phone calls.
I talked to Greg on the phone a couple of times in the first week. His accent was significantly more romantic over the phone. Plus he spoke all softly and I had to be sitting down because it sort of made my knees wobbly. I had assured the people I was living with that Greg and I were just friends. I was trying to assure myself, too.
At the end of the second phone call, Greg asked when we would talk again. I suggested maybe in one week? I didn't want to sound too eager, but I certainly didn't want to wait a whole week, either. He quickly agreed. DANGIT!
After a week of focusing on that darling girl and my new responsibilities, I called him on the appointed night. From the outset he seemed low. I tried to be cheerful and get him to act normal. I was hoping that it wasn't that he didn't want to talk to me. After much wheedling and prying he said, in a very quiet voice, "Obviously you don't like me as much as I like you." HA!! Right. Here I was trying to ensure that he didn't sense how smitten I was with him, and he was claiming I didn't really like him? I asked him how in the world he could know that. He said, "Because you didn't want to talk to me for a whole week and I've been wishing I could talk to you every day!" HA again!! We cleared that misunderstanding right up and decided that we would talk on the phone for ten minutes every night, instead of for an hour once a week. I was happy. I was very happy.
In one of our early conversations I asked what he had done on the weekend. He told me he'd been on a date. With some girl his roommate set him up with. "And?" I asked. "I just kept thinking, this would be so much more fun if she was Lisa." I tried to talk some sense into him and told him that he couldn't expect to have as much fun with someone he didn't know as with someone he knew very well. It would take some time. He knew all that, but told me that after two dates (with two different girls) he wasn't all that excited about dating.
I was getting involved in my singles ward. I was 20 years old and most of the other members were more like 25-40. I still enjoyed it. During the days I was busy going to story time at Borders and Gymboree and libraries and playgrounds, and cooking dinners. Weekends I often drove out to visit my sister and her husband where I could do email. I also had lots of church activities and meetings. There was even one guy in the ward (seriously, one guy) that seemed like prime dating material and I wanted to keep my options open. Still, every day I lived for that ten minute conversation with Greg.
I planned a trip to Utah in October for General Conference weekend. It was wonderful to be back "home." Greg and I were obviously "dating." I wondered what was going to happen to us. Apparently, while he'd been enjoying our last days together, he'd also been looking forward to his freedom. Once I was gone, he quickly realized that freedom was not what he wanted. It took me moving away for him to realize what he did want. And he realized it very soon after I left. Why, oh why didn't I move away 8 months earlier!
during the October visit
Back in Maryland one night on the phone our conversation steered in the neighborhood of marriage. Greg told me that he was just waiting for an answer. We both knew where we were headed. I realized that I had never thought to ask if I should marry Greg. It would be like asking if I should read my scriptures every day. Or whether or not I should eat vegetables. Some things are just obvious like that.
On Halloween he called. He cut right to the chase. "Lisa, I'm on one knee. -- (to roommate) Brad, am I on one knee? ('Yes! He's on one knee!') Will you marry me?" To which I replied, "BOO!" No, just kidding. I said "YES!!!"
He hadn't meant to ask me on Halloween, but he had been unable to contact my dad until then to ask for my hand. My dad had gotten a little sentimental and asked, "Are you going to take her far away from us?" The answer was yes, but really? I was already all the way across the country and Europe wasn't all that much farther.
Romantic, huh? Over the phone on Halloween! I'm SO not sappy-romantic and I LOVE that this is my story. This is how all my anxiety and jealousy and stress and insecurity came to a full and complete stop. He was MINE!! Mine forever. Or he would be soon, anyway!
Next post will be about how we planned a wedding from opposite sides of the country with the remaining nine months of my nannying contract to go. (I'm sure you're dying to read that one).
*Of course I said no (and probably hit him). I really liked this guy, but found it pretty creepy that he was asking me out behind his roommate's back.
Part Five
Greg finished his translation gig with the Polish TV crew and was back home for my last week in Provo. We spent every waking minute together. It was bittersweet to feel so close, while anticipating the Great Separation.
hiking to Squaw PeakI had been teased a tiny bit here and there that maybe Greg would pop the question before I could leave for my nannying job, but I laughed it off. The day before I left, there was a ward party at the bishop's house. I remember Greg was off talking to someone and I was sitting on the grass with a bunch of his roommates. One of them (the one who was going to ask me out and then asked my roommate out instead, who also, incidentally, asked me out while Greg was translating in SLC. Hello?) told me that he was willing to bet that Greg would ask me to marry him before I left (this 10 days after having asked me out to a movie behind Greg's back. I suppose he was thinking it couldn't hurt to try before it was too late*?).
I was a little a-flutter. What if? Could it be? No, probably not. It just didn't seem very likely. But he didn't seem too sad that I'd be leaving. He seemed as cheerful as ever. We had about 24 hours. Hmmmm.
The next day went far too quickly. Nothing happened. In the late afternoon a bunch of friends got together for a little farewell party. We got a few pictures with everyone and some of just me and Greg.
Then I said good bye and drove off. I was heading to California to spend a day or two at home, and would fly out to Maryland from there. While in California Greg and I spent a lot of time IMing each other. It was so nice. Still, it felt kind of strange to just go straight from dating to not dating, when we still talked to each other like we were dating.
I arrived in Maryland and met the ADORABLE little almost-two-year old and her parents. She was super cute and smart. Her parents were very nice and accommodating. I had the basement level to myself. Everything was perfect. I cried and cried anyway, and wondered what I had done. Here I was, far from the people I loved in this big empty house with people I didn't know. I had been promised that I would have email access, but there wasn't any. Instead I would just pay for my own phone calls.
I talked to Greg on the phone a couple of times in the first week. His accent was significantly more romantic over the phone. Plus he spoke all softly and I had to be sitting down because it sort of made my knees wobbly. I had assured the people I was living with that Greg and I were just friends. I was trying to assure myself, too.
At the end of the second phone call, Greg asked when we would talk again. I suggested maybe in one week? I didn't want to sound too eager, but I certainly didn't want to wait a whole week, either. He quickly agreed. DANGIT!
After a week of focusing on that darling girl and my new responsibilities, I called him on the appointed night. From the outset he seemed low. I tried to be cheerful and get him to act normal. I was hoping that it wasn't that he didn't want to talk to me. After much wheedling and prying he said, in a very quiet voice, "Obviously you don't like me as much as I like you." HA!! Right. Here I was trying to ensure that he didn't sense how smitten I was with him, and he was claiming I didn't really like him? I asked him how in the world he could know that. He said, "Because you didn't want to talk to me for a whole week and I've been wishing I could talk to you every day!" HA again!! We cleared that misunderstanding right up and decided that we would talk on the phone for ten minutes every night, instead of for an hour once a week. I was happy. I was very happy.
In one of our early conversations I asked what he had done on the weekend. He told me he'd been on a date. With some girl his roommate set him up with. "And?" I asked. "I just kept thinking, this would be so much more fun if she was Lisa." I tried to talk some sense into him and told him that he couldn't expect to have as much fun with someone he didn't know as with someone he knew very well. It would take some time. He knew all that, but told me that after two dates (with two different girls) he wasn't all that excited about dating.
I was getting involved in my singles ward. I was 20 years old and most of the other members were more like 25-40. I still enjoyed it. During the days I was busy going to story time at Borders and Gymboree and libraries and playgrounds, and cooking dinners. Weekends I often drove out to visit my sister and her husband where I could do email. I also had lots of church activities and meetings. There was even one guy in the ward (seriously, one guy) that seemed like prime dating material and I wanted to keep my options open. Still, every day I lived for that ten minute conversation with Greg.
I planned a trip to Utah in October for General Conference weekend. It was wonderful to be back "home." Greg and I were obviously "dating." I wondered what was going to happen to us. Apparently, while he'd been enjoying our last days together, he'd also been looking forward to his freedom. Once I was gone, he quickly realized that freedom was not what he wanted. It took me moving away for him to realize what he did want. And he realized it very soon after I left. Why, oh why didn't I move away 8 months earlier!
during the October visitOn Halloween he called. He cut right to the chase. "Lisa, I'm on one knee. -- (to roommate) Brad, am I on one knee? ('Yes! He's on one knee!') Will you marry me?" To which I replied, "BOO!" No, just kidding. I said "YES!!!"
He hadn't meant to ask me on Halloween, but he had been unable to contact my dad until then to ask for my hand. My dad had gotten a little sentimental and asked, "Are you going to take her far away from us?" The answer was yes, but really? I was already all the way across the country and Europe wasn't all that much farther.
Romantic, huh? Over the phone on Halloween! I'm SO not sappy-romantic and I LOVE that this is my story. This is how all my anxiety and jealousy and stress and insecurity came to a full and complete stop. He was MINE!! Mine forever. Or he would be soon, anyway!
Next post will be about how we planned a wedding from opposite sides of the country with the remaining nine months of my nannying contract to go. (I'm sure you're dying to read that one).
*Of course I said no (and probably hit him). I really liked this guy, but found it pretty creepy that he was asking me out behind his roommate's back.
Part Five
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Appreciation
I just deleted a medium length post because I decided that less is more on this subject. (I was getting into issues of faith and how I've learned how different we all are in that area. Gone.)
I love blogging. I love that when I come across a blog that I feel uncomfortable reading, either because of the subject matter or the way subjects are addressed, I can just not read them. Even if they're hilarious or clever or well written or intelligent, and "everyone is reading them." I don't have to go back there and I don't have to worry that they might think I'm judging them, which would surely happen if we were in the same Relief Society and I chose not to spend too much time with someone. I love that they can be them, and I can be me without us getting in each other's way.
I just want to tell you guys that I think you are awesome. I should probably be emailing you individually or something, but I am really grateful that the blogs I have chosen to read consistently do not contain things that I feel uncomfortable with. No obnoxious political posts (political post are fine, just leave out the obnoxious), no gossiping, no questioning their faith in an irreverent way or mocking people they disagree with.
I wasn't ever going to include anything political on this blog, and I actually don't think the Prop 8 thing is a political issue, so I just wanted to tell you all that I love that there have been some good positive yes on 8 posts, and none of you have felt the need to vent your feelings on your blogs against the church for it's stance, or against the "evil" people who are against the proposition. I kind of think (hope) it's because you don't struggle with those feelings, but if you do, I recommend this post written by a woman who has tried to reconcile her personal feelings with the church's stance. Half of that post I can't relate to, as I've never struggled with an opinion that went against doctrine, but it's definitely worth a read for those who have.
So sorry to be all serious and whatnot, but I had to thank you guys. And now to lighten the mood, I'll share something else I appreciate. It was going to be part of my birthday post. Yes, that post was originally 72 pages long.
Things Greg's done that I think are amazing:
Greg's mother is something of an artist (but she never paints anymore). His sister is a good artist, too. Out of the blue, a couple of years ago, Greg decided to see if he could draw. He spent all his free time sketching for about 2 months, and hasn't picked up a pencil since (strange guy). As it turned out he can draw. He sketched this while the kids were playing with "goo" (cornstarch and water, no color or anything, that's how lazy I am) on Halloween two years ago. Evie was a fairy and David was Batman, I think.
And I like this, as well:
Quite a lot, actually.
I love blogging. I love that when I come across a blog that I feel uncomfortable reading, either because of the subject matter or the way subjects are addressed, I can just not read them. Even if they're hilarious or clever or well written or intelligent, and "everyone is reading them." I don't have to go back there and I don't have to worry that they might think I'm judging them, which would surely happen if we were in the same Relief Society and I chose not to spend too much time with someone. I love that they can be them, and I can be me without us getting in each other's way.
I just want to tell you guys that I think you are awesome. I should probably be emailing you individually or something, but I am really grateful that the blogs I have chosen to read consistently do not contain things that I feel uncomfortable with. No obnoxious political posts (political post are fine, just leave out the obnoxious), no gossiping, no questioning their faith in an irreverent way or mocking people they disagree with.
I wasn't ever going to include anything political on this blog, and I actually don't think the Prop 8 thing is a political issue, so I just wanted to tell you all that I love that there have been some good positive yes on 8 posts, and none of you have felt the need to vent your feelings on your blogs against the church for it's stance, or against the "evil" people who are against the proposition. I kind of think (hope) it's because you don't struggle with those feelings, but if you do, I recommend this post written by a woman who has tried to reconcile her personal feelings with the church's stance. Half of that post I can't relate to, as I've never struggled with an opinion that went against doctrine, but it's definitely worth a read for those who have.
So sorry to be all serious and whatnot, but I had to thank you guys. And now to lighten the mood, I'll share something else I appreciate. It was going to be part of my birthday post. Yes, that post was originally 72 pages long.
Things Greg's done that I think are amazing:
Greg's mother is something of an artist (but she never paints anymore). His sister is a good artist, too. Out of the blue, a couple of years ago, Greg decided to see if he could draw. He spent all his free time sketching for about 2 months, and hasn't picked up a pencil since (strange guy). As it turned out he can draw. He sketched this while the kids were playing with "goo" (cornstarch and water, no color or anything, that's how lazy I am) on Halloween two years ago. Evie was a fairy and David was Batman, I think.
And I like this, as well:
Quite a lot, actually.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Stuff I Was Going to Post on My Birthday but am Posting the Day After Instead
Sometimes when people have a birthday they're allowed to write anything and everything that they want to without caring what anybody says. This also goes for people who always write anything and everything they want to without caring what anybody says.
Proof that I've always been awesome: Journal excerpts (as written)
On Sunday I was reading some of my old journal entries out loud to the kids and I had a really hard time because I was laughing so hard. You know when you keep trying to say something over and over but you can't get it out because you're laughing so hard? Like that. Only when I typed it up the funny was kinda gone out of it.
******
Feb. 11, 1986 (age 9)
Sorry I haven't written for so long but my Journal was lost the hole time! Now I will write about Christmas. Well, we went to grandmas, sang songs, opened, presents, ate goodys, and played. I got. . . (list of presents, a description of the following morning and the presents received then, including a Ramses II sweatshirt and tickets to the Ramses II exhibit). . . It was so fun that I wished that day would have lasted forever. Well the time is 9:17 and I don't have anything to write so good-bye.
Oops. I almost forgot! I still haven't written about Halloween in 1985! Well, mostly it was boring, but now I remember one more thing about it. Cold! Oh, gee, I musent forget what I was. A punker. My mom did my hair all (illegible, looks like, "snandy" I'm guessing I meant to write "standy-upy") and put red floresent hair spray on it. We got lots of candy and had a blast! I remember something really funny!
As we were leaving Eddnes (Edna's) house she was talking to my dad and said, "make sure your kids don't say what some are! Trick-or-treat smell my feet give me something good to eat, if you don't, I don't care, I'll pull down your underwear! (I refuse to believe I ever found something like this funny.)
Feb.12, 1986 (apparently mom and dad were off on some extended trip)
Mom and dad have just pulled out. I feel like bursting into tears so I sing a song Im playing in piano.
I will be writting much more this month than usuall. (To express my feelings.)They have left us with many treats. I know Ill miss them.
March 17, 1986
Sorry I lied on the other page. I just never think about this book. It is now 8:58 pm so I am very tired. (then an account of my St. Patrick's Day, which I'm skipping)
Hello! It's 8:03, Mar 18. I had a good day. I wore my Ramsese II shirt. I can't beileve I haven't written about the Ramsese II excibite the BYU has set up. I went to the exibit and saw many outragous things. I got my sweat shirt from dad for Christmas and the ticket from mom. We just said family prayer and it is 8:17 I am tired. Tonight we got 1 whole pack of starbursts for cleaning up's dessert good night.
*******
I was so excited to show David, the lover of all things Ancient Egypt, about how I went to the Ramses II exhibit. Love that I said more about the "whole package" of Starbursts that we got for having cleaned up, than I did about the priceless, ancient artifacts I was able to see up close. I really haven't changed a whole lot. *sigh*
And I love the telling what time it was, and the "They left us with many treats." in the middle of my melancholy post about missing my parents. And the going back four months to relate the tale of Halloween 1985, which begins, ". . . it was boring"
Here's one other entry that I remember SO vividly. This one is from earlier on before I understood dates. I never wrote them, I just started my entries like this:
********
Wene I was seven I Liked PeoPle to feel sorry for me. And I told my dad. He said "come and sit on my lap." So me and anne sat on his lap. And he said "if you get hurt it hurts huh? and we said yes.
And thene we knew that it wasn't good too get hurt just for a stupud reson.
********
Things the kids have said that made me feel old somehow:
* Evie came into the kitchen where I was washing dishes and asked, "What's a typewriter?" After I recovered, I learned that she read something about one in a Boxcar Children book. After I explained what it is a lightbulb came on, "OH!!! Like in Tarzan!!" (Trashing the Camp)
* David from the back seat of the car: "Mom, does everyone have to have iPods when they are big?" "I'm not really sure what you mean?" "Like when you get older do have to have iPods?" "Well, most people have some kind of MP3 or MP4 player, but you don't have to have one. Why are you asking?" "I just think I always want to wear glasses, instead." --- isn't "eye-pods" the most perfect name EVER for contact lenses? I love it.
* (from the mom tag) When asked "how old is mom?" David replies, "82?" I ask him to please be serious for once. He says, with a very sincere question mark on his face, "83?"
Well, sometimes she feels 82, even though she has 50 years to go. . .
Proof that I've always been awesome: Journal excerpts (as written)
On Sunday I was reading some of my old journal entries out loud to the kids and I had a really hard time because I was laughing so hard. You know when you keep trying to say something over and over but you can't get it out because you're laughing so hard? Like that. Only when I typed it up the funny was kinda gone out of it.
******
Feb. 11, 1986 (age 9)
Sorry I haven't written for so long but my Journal was lost the hole time! Now I will write about Christmas. Well, we went to grandmas, sang songs, opened, presents, ate goodys, and played. I got. . . (list of presents, a description of the following morning and the presents received then, including a Ramses II sweatshirt and tickets to the Ramses II exhibit). . . It was so fun that I wished that day would have lasted forever. Well the time is 9:17 and I don't have anything to write so good-bye.
Oops. I almost forgot! I still haven't written about Halloween in 1985! Well, mostly it was boring, but now I remember one more thing about it. Cold! Oh, gee, I musent forget what I was. A punker. My mom did my hair all (illegible, looks like, "snandy" I'm guessing I meant to write "standy-upy") and put red floresent hair spray on it. We got lots of candy and had a blast! I remember something really funny!
As we were leaving Eddnes (Edna's) house she was talking to my dad and said, "make sure your kids don't say what some are! Trick-or-treat smell my feet give me something good to eat, if you don't, I don't care, I'll pull down your underwear! (I refuse to believe I ever found something like this funny.)
Feb.12, 1986 (apparently mom and dad were off on some extended trip)
Mom and dad have just pulled out. I feel like bursting into tears so I sing a song Im playing in piano.
I will be writting much more this month than usuall. (To express my feelings.)They have left us with many treats. I know Ill miss them.
March 17, 1986
Sorry I lied on the other page. I just never think about this book. It is now 8:58 pm so I am very tired. (then an account of my St. Patrick's Day, which I'm skipping)
Hello! It's 8:03, Mar 18. I had a good day. I wore my Ramsese II shirt. I can't beileve I haven't written about the Ramsese II excibite the BYU has set up. I went to the exibit and saw many outragous things. I got my sweat shirt from dad for Christmas and the ticket from mom. We just said family prayer and it is 8:17 I am tired. Tonight we got 1 whole pack of starbursts for cleaning up's dessert good night.
*******
I was so excited to show David, the lover of all things Ancient Egypt, about how I went to the Ramses II exhibit. Love that I said more about the "whole package" of Starbursts that we got for having cleaned up, than I did about the priceless, ancient artifacts I was able to see up close. I really haven't changed a whole lot. *sigh*
And I love the telling what time it was, and the "They left us with many treats." in the middle of my melancholy post about missing my parents. And the going back four months to relate the tale of Halloween 1985, which begins, ". . . it was boring"
Here's one other entry that I remember SO vividly. This one is from earlier on before I understood dates. I never wrote them, I just started my entries like this:
********
Wene I was seven I Liked PeoPle to feel sorry for me. And I told my dad. He said "come and sit on my lap." So me and anne sat on his lap. And he said "if you get hurt it hurts huh? and we said yes.
And thene we knew that it wasn't good too get hurt just for a stupud reson.
********
Things the kids have said that made me feel old somehow:
* Evie came into the kitchen where I was washing dishes and asked, "What's a typewriter?" After I recovered, I learned that she read something about one in a Boxcar Children book. After I explained what it is a lightbulb came on, "OH!!! Like in Tarzan!!" (Trashing the Camp)
* David from the back seat of the car: "Mom, does everyone have to have iPods when they are big?" "I'm not really sure what you mean?" "Like when you get older do have to have iPods?" "Well, most people have some kind of MP3 or MP4 player, but you don't have to have one. Why are you asking?" "I just think I always want to wear glasses, instead." --- isn't "eye-pods" the most perfect name EVER for contact lenses? I love it.
* (from the mom tag) When asked "how old is mom?" David replies, "82?" I ask him to please be serious for once. He says, with a very sincere question mark on his face, "83?"
Well, sometimes she feels 82, even though she has 50 years to go. . .
Monday, October 27, 2008
The Best Birthday Present Ever
I celebrated my fifth birthday at my grandparent's house. We always had our family birthday parties at our house, but this time my parents, most especially my mother, seemed to think that it was important to focus on someone else's birth than mine that day. What better way to celebrate your child's birth than by giving birth to another child? She was in the hospital having my present.
I only remember sensing that something was terribly wrong. I most especially remember uncle Carl's (mom's brother) anxious and worried expression as he and grandpa rushed to the car. There were some very serious complications and both mother and baby seemed to be in danger. I learned later that Micah was NOT coming and was extremely stressed. The cord was wrapped around his neck and there were a number of other issues. Mom had been in labor for days and there was something very wrong. My dad had called from the hospital and my frantic grandmother had sent grandpa and uncle Carl racing to the hospital to give my mom a blessing. Soon after the hands of dad, grandpa, Uncle Carl and the doctor were placed on her head, Dr. Lewis proclaimed, "I think I can get this dude out!" And with a yank of the foreceps, he did!! Out came a very blue little boy.
I remember later that night, when the rest of us arrived at the hospital, the dear doctor asked who the birthday girl was. I stepped forward shyly. He said, "well, I think the birthday girl should be the first to touch her baby brother!" Following the doctor's instructions, I reached my hand forward, through the little twisty things on the incubator, toward his bruised and misshapen head, and lightly petted his his warm, pink skin. A bond was formed.
Throughout our childhood I remember trying to look after little Micah. He had his favorite big brother Adam, and his beloved mother for a summer sister, Su, but I was always proud that this little guy was mine. I remember one night when we were sleeping at grandma and grandpa's house while visiting Utah from California Micah woke up cold in the night. I was the only one that woke up as well and got him settled with an extra blanket. I remember wondering why he was so grateful for that, and wishing that I had more opportunities to do things like that for him.
These days, though we rarely (never?) talk to each other, I think, and hope, that Micah knows that he is very special to me. Not sure how it is that I feel MORE special because I share my birthday, instead of feeling less special, but I think it may have to do with who I'm sharing it with. We share more than just a date of birth, though.
* We both love(d) hot dogs. There were never any arguments over what we would have for our birthday dinner.
* In some ways I think he and I are the most emotional members of the family(though we show it differently)
* We both have longish faces? Or eyes a little close together? Not sure what it is, but we look a little alike
* The corners of both of our mouths turn up slightly. Micah's is more Joker-ish than mine is, but mine is bad enough that my friend in high school had a hard time talking to me while looking in my face because she would always burst out laughing about the upturn on the edges of my mouth.
* We both were smart in school (is it bad manners to add a "quite" or "extremely" (kidding) in here if I'm not only talking about me?) but neither of us applied ourselves, or got very good grades.
* We both like to eat sweets quite a lot. Like way too much, if we're not careful.
* We both have spiky hair and nice little beards.
Oh wait. It appears I ran out of ideas. My beard is actually much thinner than his, and my hair is only spiky about a year after I give birth to a child (if you've never had one, that's from all the hair that fell out after the birth growing back in)
Micah is such a smarty. He has about the sharpest sense of humor of anyone I know. He is a very loyal sibling and friend. He has always had a very strong sense of right and wrong. He's not half ugly, either (read: drop dead gorgeous. Are you allowed to say things like that about your brother?)
I really love this guy. I feel privileged to have this special bond with him. Although I may not show that I care like I should, I hope he knows that I think about him and remember him in my prayers. I wish him all the best this life as to offer, and the fullest of happiness.
Here you see the beautiful girl he's chosen for keeps, Heather. They will be married in June, and I am so happy for them. I wish them the very best.
Love you, Micah! Happy Birthday!
On our 17th and 22nd birthday our oldest brother and his wife decided to celebrate our birthday the same way mom celebrated my 5th. Our nephew Noah was born. He loves basketball almost as much as his birthday uncle. And he has his birthday aunt's long face! Happy Birthday, Noah!!
I only remember sensing that something was terribly wrong. I most especially remember uncle Carl's (mom's brother) anxious and worried expression as he and grandpa rushed to the car. There were some very serious complications and both mother and baby seemed to be in danger. I learned later that Micah was NOT coming and was extremely stressed. The cord was wrapped around his neck and there were a number of other issues. Mom had been in labor for days and there was something very wrong. My dad had called from the hospital and my frantic grandmother had sent grandpa and uncle Carl racing to the hospital to give my mom a blessing. Soon after the hands of dad, grandpa, Uncle Carl and the doctor were placed on her head, Dr. Lewis proclaimed, "I think I can get this dude out!" And with a yank of the foreceps, he did!! Out came a very blue little boy.
I remember later that night, when the rest of us arrived at the hospital, the dear doctor asked who the birthday girl was. I stepped forward shyly. He said, "well, I think the birthday girl should be the first to touch her baby brother!" Following the doctor's instructions, I reached my hand forward, through the little twisty things on the incubator, toward his bruised and misshapen head, and lightly petted his his warm, pink skin. A bond was formed.
Throughout our childhood I remember trying to look after little Micah. He had his favorite big brother Adam, and his beloved mother for a summer sister, Su, but I was always proud that this little guy was mine. I remember one night when we were sleeping at grandma and grandpa's house while visiting Utah from California Micah woke up cold in the night. I was the only one that woke up as well and got him settled with an extra blanket. I remember wondering why he was so grateful for that, and wishing that I had more opportunities to do things like that for him.
These days, though we rarely (never?) talk to each other, I think, and hope, that Micah knows that he is very special to me. Not sure how it is that I feel MORE special because I share my birthday, instead of feeling less special, but I think it may have to do with who I'm sharing it with. We share more than just a date of birth, though.
* We both love(d) hot dogs. There were never any arguments over what we would have for our birthday dinner.
* In some ways I think he and I are the most emotional members of the family(though we show it differently)
* We both have longish faces? Or eyes a little close together? Not sure what it is, but we look a little alike
* The corners of both of our mouths turn up slightly. Micah's is more Joker-ish than mine is, but mine is bad enough that my friend in high school had a hard time talking to me while looking in my face because she would always burst out laughing about the upturn on the edges of my mouth.
* We both were smart in school (is it bad manners to add a "quite" or "extremely" (kidding) in here if I'm not only talking about me?) but neither of us applied ourselves, or got very good grades.
* We both like to eat sweets quite a lot. Like way too much, if we're not careful.
* We both have spiky hair and nice little beards.
Oh wait. It appears I ran out of ideas. My beard is actually much thinner than his, and my hair is only spiky about a year after I give birth to a child (if you've never had one, that's from all the hair that fell out after the birth growing back in)
Micah is such a smarty. He has about the sharpest sense of humor of anyone I know. He is a very loyal sibling and friend. He has always had a very strong sense of right and wrong. He's not half ugly, either (read: drop dead gorgeous. Are you allowed to say things like that about your brother?)
I really love this guy. I feel privileged to have this special bond with him. Although I may not show that I care like I should, I hope he knows that I think about him and remember him in my prayers. I wish him all the best this life as to offer, and the fullest of happiness.Here you see the beautiful girl he's chosen for keeps, Heather. They will be married in June, and I am so happy for them. I wish them the very best.
Love you, Micah! Happy Birthday!
On our 17th and 22nd birthday our oldest brother and his wife decided to celebrate our birthday the same way mom celebrated my 5th. Our nephew Noah was born. He loves basketball almost as much as his birthday uncle. And he has his birthday aunt's long face! Happy Birthday, Noah!!
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