I Talk Like This

Saturday Marie and I spent some time with Sarah Johns.  We decided to go to the Orem Owlz game.  In the car on the ride over Marie mentioned that a few days before she spoke to Sarah in a British accent.  Sarah tried to talk back in the same accent, but could not.  Marie insisted I speak in one so I could hear Sarah's.

So I did.

For the rest of the car ride and through the last three innings of the game (that was all we were there for).  I continued as we went back to the car.  Marie, except when she would try to explain baseball to me, spoke in an accent as well.

And then I convinced Sarah that we NEEDED to go to Krispy Kreme because it was right there.

So we went.  And while Marie stopped with her accent I continued.  I found myself having to make a choice:  do I use British or American English while ordering my donuts? 

British.

I ordered a whole dozen donuts with my fake British accent.  As the girl rang up my order and gave me the receipt to sign she asked if I was from England.

"I am."
"I really like your English accent."
"Oh, thank you."

And with that and a dozen delicious donuts, I left the building.

British accents during Nerts has become a must.  Phrases such as "bloody hell" and "poppycock" are strongly encouraged.

My Life Story: After Sam Left

Once upon a time my best friend Sam moved to Illinois.  She and Casey had gotten married and after he finished boot camp she moved up to be with him.  This was around the time that I was working at TJ Maxx and not doing too well.  Sam was my closest friend.  Did you know that after I had a break down about how my life was turning out after high school that she bought me flowers and sent Casey to deliver them to me?  I still have the card.  She has always been a wonderful friend. 

But when she left I had another type of meltdown. 

I baked.

I spent an entire day baking.  From scratch, which was a first for me.  I wallowed as I mixed a batch of brownies together.  While they baked I started on the peanut buttery coconut type things.  While those baked I made mint frosting and chocolate glaze for the brownies.  There was something else I made, but who knows.

Ever since then I've tended to bake or cook when I cannot find it in me to cry.

The awkward thing that happened during the middle of this baking frenzy was when my home teacher came over.  I was all alone when he stopped by.  I explained that my mother wasn't home but he came to talk to me.  He then tried to talk me into leaving Oxnard to move in with one of his relatives.  He had family in Arizona, Washington, Utah...  It was quite awkward.  Some time later I was at a ward activity when his wife tried to talk me into the same thing.

Needless to say, I never left Oxnard.  That is, not until I came up almost a year later for school.

Eating for One, and Other Stories

I've become a library junkie.  As such, I recently checked out a book entitled "Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant."  It's a book of short stories about people eating alone.  In the introduction it mentions that typically people eat different things when they eat alone in their homes.

One of my biggest fears involves me living alone, and for the most part, being alone.  It's a life in which Marie is not my roommate, I live in a city without familiar faces, or, all of my friends have paired off and no longer visit for dinner.  Enter:  eating over the kitchen sink (see Must Love Dogs, The Wedding Planner, etc).

Picture this:  Friday night.  It's 9:30pm and I am alone in my living room when I decide it's the perfect time for dessert.  And all at once I know exactly what I want to eat.  Crepes.  Never mind that I've never made a crepe before.  It's the only thing in the world I want.  I get up and run out the door and toward the South End Market.   It may have been the terror I felt while taking a short cut next to a tree where Meeko (the raccoon that lives in our backyard with her seven babies) is staring at me with her beady red eyes and dagger sharp claws or my stomach's desires that heightened my blood pressure and made me practically run to the store.  Either way, I was out of breath when I arrived.

I grabbed bacon, whipped cream, an orange, Dove chocolate and Nutella.  I started on my walk home when I realized that I didn't believe that I could make and eat crepes on my own.  I went through my phone.  Marie was in Canada, Blake in Seattle, Ariel in SLC, Annette at a wedding, Levi at a birthday party, Megan and Megan with their husband and fiance, respectively.  And I hovered over a name that I have not contacted in a long time.  I was desperate and hungry.  Maybe crepes could be a nice segue into something else?  Like a repaired relationship?

Text him.  Don't text him.  Text him.  Don't text him.  Loneliness told me to text him while logic reminded me why I shouldn't.  My logical side told me to call someone to talk me out of the deed.  I decided to text.  I was three words away from sending when Levi called.  Something told him to leave the party and called me.  Someone may call it boredom, I call it divine providence.  Either way, he came over and ate the most delicious crepes with me.  The orange cream and caramelized banana shiz was more than I ever dreamed it could be.

But here's the thing:  I refused to eat it alone.  I risked total insanity and a mental breakdown to avoid eating a crepe alone over the kitchen sink.  However, there are several recipes I do eat when I'm alone.  And I wouldn't even call them recipes but I'm writing them down right now in order to call them recipes.  But be warned:  these are things that I would never, ever eat with another person.  Ever.  It's simply embarrassing.

Pasta with Salad Dressing:
Cook pasta.  Drain.  Place on plate and coat in enough Italian dressing that the noodles swim.

Pasta with Cheese:
 Cook pasta.  Drain.  Place on plate and spread cheese (of the Laughing Cow variety, semi soft) like a child.  Add salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes.

Pasta Salad:
 Cook pasta.  Drain.  Toss with cooked frozen corn, drained and rinsed kidney or black beans, mushrooms and olives.  Coat in Italian salad dressing.  Add shredded Parmesan, if available.

Ultimate Comfort and Highly Americanized Chow Mein:
Cook thin spaghetti or angel hair pasta.  Drain and set aside.  Heat a 50/50 mixture of olive oil and sesame seed oil in a large frying pan (the absolute largest you have) with garlic and lots of red pepper flakes.  Saute rinsed and cut bell peppers, mushrooms, green onion, water chestnuts, bean sprouts and snow peas.  Add pasta and continue to heat through.  Toss with lots of soy sauce.  Enough to make it swim.

And that, folks, is what I eat when I am alone in the kitchen, with or without an eggplant.

Dream

I had a dream last night. 

In it, there was a man that I used to care a lot about.  We were going on a date.  A double date, to be more specific... with my mother and her man of the moment (who was not familiar to me).  It was a church type event, and we were all dressed in church dress as a result. 

My mom's man of the moment slipped me a piece of paper.  It said that the man I was going out with was no good for me, and I was no good for him.  I stormed off.  What right did he have to tell me that stuff? 

When I woke up I was mad.  Once I start to think that I've put someone behind me they pop up in my dreams.  I was upset that he had appeared again.  He's the last thing I want to be thinking about.  I've grown up and changed and... we're not right for each other.  Maybe that's what the dream was telling me, though.  That it's okay to completely let go because we just aren't right for each other.

On My Mind

I'm going to be rather honest here.  I've never felt this strong desire to go to/through the temple. 

My parents weren't married in the temple.  Because of inactivity and my dad, my mom wasn't endowed while I was growing up.  She went through the temple just a couple of years ago.  I didn't grow up with a feeling that temple attendance was important.  There were no garments in my home and I'm only just becoming used to my friends wearing them.

As I near the age of 24 I realize that I can soon choose to go through the temple.  As it is, I haven't felt like the baptistry gives me the most holy of feelings.

With these thoughts going on in my mind quite a bit recently I've decided to reach out for help.  How do you feel when you're in the temple?  What drives you to go?  Is it worth it?

A Dream Come True

I've been meaning to post this for the last few weeks.  My roommate, Ann, also known as Samara Ann or JAJA, is engaged.  It goes to show that there really is someone for everyone out there.

My roommates and I decided to ask her about their future plans together.  I present to you, the plans of JAJA:

Jesse would like to be a motivational speaker.  Speaking against pornography.  Hard to imagine him getting any gigs when out of all the people who've been over, no one likes to talk to him.  It's just awkward.  Like, I'd almost rather have a sunburn with oozing blisters.  For real.

On the side he would like to be a wedding dress maker.

 Yes, he is making Ann's dress.

They want "as many children as the Lord will give [them]," meaning they don't understand the concept of birth control.  You may think that is a harsh correlations, but that is because you have basic reasoning skills and understand that you can still have as many children as the Lord would like you to have while practicing some form of birth control at some point in your sexual relationship.  It's honestly a difficult concept to even imagine Ann taking care of an infant.  "What?  You mean once I fill a bottle with breast milk I should refrigerate it?"  Yes.  Just like you shouldn't take over a gallon of spoiled milk and turn it into 200 pancakes to pack the freezer with.

Ann's dream wedding cake is two white dragons encircling a heart.

And their wedding date is May 15th.  Of next year.

When I asked Ann if it was a themed wedding, she said yes.  The theme is "a dream come true," because Jesse is her dream come true.

Contrary to my hopes, Jesse will not be wearing a suit of armor or carrying a sword.  I tried to convince Ann that he needed a sword in order to cut the cake with.  Imagine, using a sword to slice through the dragon's neck, exposing the tasteful red velvet cake with raspberry filling.  Ann said she'd be fine with Jesse having a sword, although he doesn't want one.  Does that mean they've discussed it?  We over heard them talking to Ann's parents on speaker phone and her parents tried to talk her into letting the dragon cake be the groom's cake and having a normal wedding cake.

They also tried to reason with her that it was ridiculous to keep Jesse from seeing her bouquet until the wedding and for her to be in the dark about the groom's cake.  Everyone has a different point of view.

It sounds like Jesse doesn't care too much about the wedding, except he did try to talk Ann into wearing stage make up the other day.  In addition, while Ann wants to go camping for the honeymoon Jesse only cares that there is a bed.  Direct quote:  "As long as there is a bed!"

I may be unemployed and have nothing going on during the day, but at least I have moments like this to entertain myself with.

I lack confidence in my ability to get a job.  I've applied to quite a bit and I've had several interviews.  Do I only look good on paper? 

Yesterday I had a second interview at an office that I really liked.  I really wanted to work there.  My first interview went amazingly well and during the second interview I could see the scores that the first interviewer had given me.  They were high.  I thought I had it in the bag but somehow in less than five minutes (seriously, that's how long interview number two was) somehow I turned the interviewer off and I did not receive the call today that I was expecting.

What is this?  Where am I supposed to find a job?  And when?  Am I really destined to work at Lowe's or Arby's for the rest of my foreseeable future?  No wonder I didn't get into med school.  I can't even get a job.

Skin like Bacon

Last Friday I broke out my Pass of all Passes (a la Ashley and Doug) to go to Seven Peaks with Marie, MegP, Rochelle & Carly, and Alyssa.  I don't know what I was thinking (probably that I wanted a tan) but I decided not just to forgo the sunscreen, but to slather myself in tanning oil (literally, I was shiny). 

I was only in my suit for 2.5 hours in the sun.  I enjoyed the wave pool and the lazy river.  Rochelle kept commenting on how she felt like she was burning and needed to leave.  I left with her.  I could tell when I got home that I had a slight burn as well.  Yet I continued on with my original plans of going on the gallery stroll with Blake and Annette. 


Saturday my roommates decided to go to Seven Peaks again.  My burn was now looking pretty bad so I decided to stay home.  When they got home I pointed out to Marie that I thought I was starting to blister.  She said my shoulder looked like it was just about to peel.  But when I woke up on Sunday morning I found the biggest horror of my life: 

The biggest, most disgusting blisters were on my shoulder, filled with something that looked like yellow water.  They were like jelly to the touch.  I stayed home from church to nurse my wounds, something I've continued to do since then.  I spread Neosporin and douse with aloe vera.  I clean with water and wash cloth or Q-tip. 

While for the most part my blisters have gone down (no, I did not puncture them myself, I let nature take its course) my skin has been left to look like the tanning mom.  Sometimes in the right light with the blisters my skin looked like bacon.  But the grossest part now has to be this weird yellow line that has appeared around my right shoulder.  It's not colored from the aloe vera, as I have tried to gently clean it.  But it is a line of dead, yellow skin that ends where my current peeling begins.

This experience has been horrific, and has taught me something very important:  always, always, ALWAYS wear sunscreen!  As if I wasn't already paranoid about skin cancer now I actually have areas of skin that have been damaged enough by the sun to warrant an actual worry.  In fact, you should see what looks like a now precancerous mole on my right shoulder.