I bug me

How odd that you post the axis of evil whilst I am feeling as though I am on the brink of going to hell in a hand basket.

WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME???!!!???!!!???!!!

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It starts like this:

I canNOT stop thinking only of myself. I feel so guilty that I don't think of others first. I try to put others first, but I HATE that it is not my first thought! I hate that I have to force myself to be considerate... that it is not natural... that it is not easy.

I am so selfish and frustrated and a little angry.

Why can't I just be selfless and patient and kind?

Why can't I stop being BUGGED by things. Why do I have to try to let things not bug me? Why can't I be the type of person that just doesn't get bugged?
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I hate that I know how to be, but that I have to constantly fight myself to be that way.

I'm so drained from the fight.

I'm so disappointed in myself that I am not having an easier time of this.

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So the skinny is that: I feel that I see solutions to problems and situations, that I understand life... so it's wretchedly impossible to hold my mouth shut or accept people who counter the solutions! Why am I so pretentious as to assume I have the answers? Why do I constantly feel others are inadequate and furthermore deal wit the oxymoron that I know I am inadequate by judging others?

I'm just miserable. I'm head strong, I'm decisive, I'm "git-'er done," I'm confrontational, I'm deal and drive on, I'm black and white.

I'm not sentimental, "what do you think," patient, gray, wallow, submissive.

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I'm not submissive.
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I could, quite possibly, be going crazy.

Axis of Evil

Cheese.
White Bread.
Sugar.

That's mine.
What's yours?

moving

You see this top photo? We went to storage to get a bench for Janna's new house. You remember STORAGE(clicky click), don't you? Who could have imagined the bench would be in the very back, on the bottomest bottom, piled with the boxiest boxes from floor to ceiling?

First, I had to make sure Janna understood procedure: "All the furniture likes to be referred to in the feminine. And you have to say 'git r done'. And you should grunt a lot. This junk likes it like that." At least that's how we used to roll at Skinny Bitches Moving Co. (Cara is much stronger than she looks.)

Next: to ascertain if she was really down there somewhere. We weren't about to do heavy lifting without an assurance of the little lady's exact location. I creeped carefully in, over lifetimes of stuff, reached down and started to feel around blindly. "Welp, she's down there all right," said Dr. Alana, "I'd say she's at least 95 % effaced and dilated to 4 or 5 centimeters. It won't be long now."

That's when the demolition derby began. Couches were sliding down the hall. Garbage bags went a flyin'. Knuckles were a bleedin'. I tried to remember my counting and breathing techniques. At around 8 centimeters, just entering transition, our She Storage wanted to give up. But we just couldn't quit now.

And then it happened. We had our hands on her! Nurse Janna was holding one end and I the other. With one last grunt of git r done she was rounding the corner and heading out the door. "She's crowning! She's crowning!" yelped Dr. Alana, suddenly realizing two guys down the hall were cracking up. They had been listening to our hard labor the whole time. I'm glad someone besides me thought it was hysterical.

With a sigh of relief her ordeal was finally over. We wrapped the 80 pounder in Brandon's pink blankie and laid her in the back of the pick-up truck. A girl. A sweet little girl. Congratulations Janna. She's just beautiful!

The team went right back to work. There were some third degree tears but we got her back together. In fact, I think she looks better than before.

THE END

Now. On Moving. I'm familiar with the concept. Last time I counted I have lived in 27 homes in my lifetime. I went to 4 high schools in 3 years. I have gotten really, really good at moving. In my adult life Cara was always my moving buddy. We would awake early, go without food, and drink only red bull. We would get hyper and aggressive with the heavy appliances but we got r done. We would call everything "her" and "she", joke about starting our own moving company, and say "sons a bitches" a lot. It wasn't pretty. But by sunset we would be finished and eating delivery pizza.

My Mom is another story entirely. Even I, her own daughter, cannot fathom ever getting her life straight in my mind. I know what state she was born in and then it gets really confusing. She has lived so many places, I wouldn't dare her to add it up. In St. George alone she has covered more homes than most do in a lifetime. The last time she went to rent a U Haul for Cara, the guy didn't even ask for her I.D. or name. Though my Mom didn't recognize him, he said, "Oh no, we certainly have you in our records." She says she is a gypsy.

I think a little of that gypsy is in me. I have been so stable for so long. It really freaks me out sometimes. I love my house and I know I will be here a while. It's a comforting thought but also slightly suffocating. I love moving in to something new and picking out what drawer will hold the silverware. Or the spices. I like a little refreshment now and then.

Now. My Mom's storage units. We have not gotten around to sorting anything. We have all of my Dad's things. All of Alex's. Could people quit dying, please? Give us a chance to catch up. I think we are all finally ready emotionally to sell or donate their things. It's an awful feeling to get rid of their stuff. I hold those things as proof they were once here. It's like: See, he had slippers, I told you he was here!

The bottom picture is our family's second storage unit. None of us have a garage here in St. George so this is where we keep bikes, camping and backpacking things, baby toys, cribs, etc. All of my closets are cleaned and everything went to storage. I made Anika a little play fort underneath the stairs. Everything is so minimal now at home. Much better feng shui. I love it.

orphans...

It all started when Anika kept screaming "pants off, pants off!" She really is the no-clothes type.

Then she decided to hike along while drinking a bottle.

Suddenly, Emmet was half-naked too so he could "hike in his underwear" like Anika.

Then Anika decided to taste a little mud.

Have I mentioned there was snow on the ground?

Please, somebody call CPS. Save our little orphans!
Cuttin' loose is what being a kid is all about.

and then I remembered... hey, I myself have hiked in my underwear. I vividly recall backpacking in a dark, pre-dawn desert wash wearing nothing but a tee shirt, pack, and panties.
Cuttin' loose was what being 18 was all about. I've said it before and I'll say it again: teenagers' brains are half-cooked. Somebody should have kept me locked up until I was at least 20. (and who doesn't like hiking along and drinking a bottle?)

my buddy...

If you don't want to look at pictures of my kid then scroll right on past the next 50 posts.

zion...

These are from several weeks ago. I posted a ton of photos tonight, mostly of Anika. Forgive the indulgence. I wanted to get them up before I collected any more.

game...

Anika can play this game forever. And sometimes I'm quite certain there's a jurtain in the curtain.

octagons...

Anika found this chain of plexi glass samples at Daddy's work. We couldn't pry them out of her hand for days and still need to sneak them away for return to the shop. They were glued to her hand through all activities for the first 48 hours. She likes to talk about all the colors. Daddy reflects the sun and makes colored octagons all over the house.

cirles and rectangles...

Swings and slides aren't the biggest attraction at the park for little Anika. Anywhere we go she finds what she simply calls the "circles and rectangles". She can be happy for hours running from one sprinkler box to the next and jumping on them. Yesterday she jumped up high to land on one on the grass and it broke and she fell inside up to her chest. It scraped her back and she can't stop talking about it. Today she didn't go near the rectangles. Poor little thing. It really freaked her out.

with Aunt Janna...

Emmet and Anika love each other so much and might as well be brother and sister. Anika calls him Emmy.

yesterday...

yes, yesterday! Brandon's hours got cut again so he doesn't work Mondays. 3-day weekends all the time is pretty easy to get used to. And guess what? I went back to work at the pf. It really is nice to get out and I got off so early last night I was able to make it home to put Anika to bed.

always...

Anika is a little gymnast/ballerina. She is always balancing on things and jumping on or off them. She can be found doing this daily with my mixing bowls. Whenever she lands after a jump she does a little ballerina twirl. (thanks in part to her epigenome?) She begs to wear this outfit everyday. Mama, green shirt and blue pants. When I tell her it's dirty she throws the biggest tizzy fit that you would have to see to believe.

tonight...

coveting

lovin' me some o' this.
i even love the chain it's on.
i would feel so pretty with this around my neck
and a little perfume behind the ears.
if only i had a spare $200.
do people really spend such on a necklace?
keep your eyes peeled for a cheap version, if you would.

Williams - Final Assignment

For my final project I had to design and create a 3 Dimensional Pop-up business card. It is done and this is what it looks like. I am now officially on spring break for one week. Yeah!

Williams - Fire Scare

This is Herbie checking out the fire engines right in front of our house. It was exciting for Herbie and Sage to see all the action. Our next door neighbors house caught on fire (I think it started with their dryer). Our street was closed off, my car was blocked in, and the neighbors pets are all hanging out on our front lawn in those cages behind Herbie. They have 3 dogs, a hamster, a bird, and a rabbit. I am all paranoid about my house catching fire now and my mom not being able to get out if I'm not home. I pray that never happens, especially if Herbie is home with her. Sage had a friend over and her mom came to pick her up and couldn't get to our house she had to walk a couple blocks and was worried because she thought it was our house.

That is the gayest photo

Who is in charge of this blog? Nicole I am leaning your way, in the 10 years we have known each other you don't have a better photo that you could have used? Anyways it is nice to check in every once in a while and see how the old gang is doing. I wish I made it to St. George more often and got to hang out with those amigas down there. Sorry Ciara it has been a long time and maybe next time you come to St. George I will be able to come down, but maybe you don't come to St. George that often anymore. Maybe St. George isn't that great anymore. I would like to go to the movies sometime though or do something that is relaxing but also spend time with friends at the same time.

The Slightest Disturbance

...can really screw me up YO.

I'm confused about the weather and haven't developed a new routine. My sister bought the house next door. My Mom moved in !!! What the? I'm so confused. Half my things are in storage. I'm eating weird things. I don't know when I'm supposed to grocery shop or eat or rest or nap or take Anika to the park.

And the big one: we switched from DirecTV to Dish Network and I am so homesick for my old remote. Who do these people think they are making the channels climb as you scroll up?

Also: I can't find any freaking girl scouts. Everyone else all over America seems able to get their hands on as many thin mints and somoas as they want. Everyone. Except me. I just know this town must be teeming with unseen girlscouts. Are they in cahoots, staying just without my sight? Illicit drugs are in plainer sight! (and with protocol for acquisition I can understand) But what, I ask, has a girl got to do for some damned cookies? I've got an itch. And I need a girl scout to scratch it.
Where are those little brats?

Williams - Enrichment

Being the RS Enrichment Counselor, I was in charge of enrichment this month and we had a fabulous turn out, over 70 people. We did a 100 dresses theme based on The Hundred Dresses book. We had sisters donate dresses and then we gave them to a women's shelter. We displayed the dresses and had dinner and even a chocolate fountain. I was in charge of decorations and thanks to Herb's mom it looked beautiful. Herb made all the stands that the little dresses are hanging on and then I spraypainted them. I had a sore thumb and fore arm for a couple of days. These are pics from the evening.

Williams - Crazy Kids

Williams - What's going on?

This is what I have been up to lately. One is a tabletop display for a cruise line that dispenses matchboxes. The other is a tabletop display for a restuarant advertising dessert. My third project I am in the middle of creating and it is a 3D Pop-Up business card. Dimensional Design is the class and the projects have been time consuming. It ends on Saturday. Yeah! And then I have a week break before my next class. I think I will be either cleaning window sills (nasty mold), painting Sage's room, going to the zoo if the rain ever lets up, and watching the 3rd Season of 24.

Dramatic irony.

pictured is my nephew, Jake.

coconut cake

It may be generic and mainstream but so am I. That's why I love Pottery Barn through and through. I have always dreamed of a matching set of glasses. I love these recycled green glass tumblers. And I've often fantasized of something beautiful for my jewelry... don't you love this lotus stand? It's on sale for only $80. HA! Do people really consider that a sale? Well, keep fantasizing Alana. Maybe if it was $8 I could buy it. And a matching set of glasses? That's for rich folk.















If we want to (do we?) talk social structure of Europe, let's note how families move in together to survive. Yes, my very own Mama is moving in with me on Saturday. She takes my Dad's social security and can make it but not quite. And me- well that's another story. Can you say Brandon isn't getting a paycheck this week and even when he does it usually bounces? Can you say a car that is broken AGAIN!? Can you say medical bills to the blue sky? (if I'm screening your call it's because I think you might be IHC's collection agency- I'll pick up as soon as our tax refund arrives.) My Mom already helps so much. She buys all of Anika's diapers. It's no wonder my Mom can't quite make it. I doubt she's excited to move in. Would you want to live with me and B, silently enduring dysfunction, day after day? It's not the greatest gig in the world. I know she just really wants to help us by renting a room. Plus, I HATE it when my Mom lives alone. I'll be glad to have her here. She is so hilarious and full of life. She is FUN.

Somehow I don't really care about any of it. Yes, I had nightmares last night about Brandon job hunting. But I also dreamed about a Pepperidge Farm frozen coconut cake and how I would slice it into 9 delicious squares. They register equally on the think-O-meter as far as I'm concerned. Everything always works out. There's certainly a roof over my head and food in my belly. Dare I ask, what's the worst that can happen?

Okay, never mind. Because what truly scares me is the direction our country is headed. Real nightmares are made of irreversible change. They are made of "everything a human right". They are made of cradle-to-grave class distinction. They are made of big government eating my children and stealing my thunder.

I just don't get it. Because even though we are struggling I don't expect anyone to help me. I expect to help myself. I'm American. Isn't that what we do? I want to scream at Washington- I don't feel entitled to the world so don't give it to me! It makes me a true, pure, sad. I love my America. I don't want to see our independence and drive go out the window.

I thought I was just going to post a cute glass tumbler set?
What have I done?

Heads of State who ride and wrangle,
Who look at your face from more than one angle,
Can cut you from their bloated budgets
Like sharpened knives through Chicken McNuggets.

Now nimble fingers that dance on numbers
Will eat your children and steal your thunder,
While heavy torsos that heave and hurl
Who crunch like nuts in the mouths of squirrels.

Now clever feet that flicker like fire
And burn like candles in smoky spires
Do more to turn my joy to sadness
Than somber thoughts of burning planets

4000 calories

... in one lunch! And I refuse to go to the gym today. I just survived doing our taxes (depressing results), I spent the morning cleaning the fridge, Q is ditching me for Spring Break, and I have one of those head aches from watching too much TV and computer screen.

Wo is me. Oh wo is me.


... I feel better now.

I must admit... I love teaching my CTR 5 class. Call me crazy but I don't think there could be a better calling. The lessons are basic, never too involved, and take little preparation yet it amazes me how they grasp basic truths. Plus, they totally crack me up because they say the funniest things every week. We always play a game with a squishy ball at the end of the lesson where I ask questions about what we've learned. One kid always has something funny and profound to say. This is how it went down today:

Me asking boy: How do you think you will feel when you get baptized?

Boy answers after truly pondering: Wet!

Me trying not to laugh: Yes, you will feel wet. How do you think you will you feel on the inside?

More pondering: hmmm, I think I will feel cold on the outside and warm on the inside.

I LOVE IT!

?

Why are so many people dying lately?

Do you get the feeling we're nearing the end and God's rallying the troops?

...Or is it just that we're getting older and this sort of thing is going to happen now?

We just found out that our good friends and cousins' dad just died in a plane crash at age 49. Add to that the fact that more than 10 people at my school have lost a parent or parent in-law since September. And then there is Q's dad. Echo to Alana's quintessential statement:
Who's Next?

I DREAM OF SUMMER

Seriously can not wait to get back out to Powell. This is waiting for me [and you if I can get you out there] in all its gloriousness!!! Friends, I have a HUGE case of spring fever right now. This week I couldn't even concentrate in class and I was the one teaching.

journal of summer

I just can't get into the jazz this year. Brandon is watching. Amazing how he can stay awake for it but any other night he falls asleep on the carpet at 8. I never made due on my promise to post more of the journal of summer. Its last entry is the day Ciara got married and the next is 3 years later. There is a big chunk of white pages left at the end. I thought you girls might enjoy the last entry: april 20, 2003.

So, page 142 is where the journal of summer, of love, of new circles comes to an end. Not at all an abrupt end but a slow and sneaky end... slowly sneaking away your youth and spontanaeity. Is that what life and trials has done? Wow! What a ride! What a whirlwind of ideas its been so far and I'm only beginning.

So, last weekend I went camping with Nicole, Megan, Brandon and our new friend Brian. It's been a while since I've had an adventure like that so I decided to pack this classic journal. I busted it out at the campfire and we threw around some freeze-dried memories, reading a selection or two. I suggested we all write but noted how even saying that felt wrong. We took notice of how the last entry is when Ciara got married. I guess Nicole has been right all along- marriage is death! Well, that's cruel but true- it's the death of (supposedly) childish traits but hey- it's also the death of fun- at least that's what we've thought from time to time.

All these years and so much slips magically in... even a little bit of maturity? heaven forbid. Nicole and I were discussing how we've changed. We still have fun but our minds are sharp and focused. What a trip. So I close this journal. Yes- there are empty pages still but empty pages appropriately so. Because as we all move on will we ever really feel like it was complete? Our single adulthood, our college years (my months). Will we always worry that there was more to see and do? I dedicate these last few lonely white pages to one more road trip we never took, the ballet shoe shelf never seen, the grad school gone, the loves never known and lost... and who knows what? We never will. But man this life is incredible. We have intense joy, intense love, intense experiences. It only gets better from here my friends.

The trick is to keep the spunk. Learn to take defeat and disappointment with the grace of a woman instead of the fit of a child. Run straight towards that which scares you the most. So, all the lessons learned in this past era- thank heavens I kept this journal- it makes you get reaquainted with yourself. Let the last and final lesson be: don't let growing up and trials sneak up slowly and snuff out your soul.

Our minds are more at rest- no longer gloriously frustrated but content. Is that what it means to find yourself? Well, we move forward trusting only in our Heavenly Father, testing our faith. Here we go on what promises to be intensely something- intensely full of joy? The new era of my life- time to get a new journal. Time to grow up. But not a moment too soon. Did I say earlier that we will always wonder if there was more to see or do? All that matters lies ahead! I haven't even begun. Man, it's a great feeling to be young, to have it all ahead of you, to wonder and wonder and wonder what lies ahead. Remember this Alana- remember the feeling of youth and a clean slate with nothing ahead but choices I will have to make. I've got my soul, my life, my love for everyone to make it.

Look at page 3 of this journal. I was 17- it was my first personal entry. Nothing fundamental has changed. I said. "The world lay as a sunlit valley at my feet and I plan only to be guided by heavens will... I am on my way." (man, I really believed I was going to see the world.) So, whatever plans I had of living in trees and so on- I always know what my ultimate goal was. So far, so good.

One more lesson: don't ever rip any pages out of your journal- no matter what the worry of anyone finding it. I miss you page #10. Something to do with running topless in the canyon. And something else about topless trees or something. Keep everything you write- you will want it someday. I'd give anything to see you page 10 and laugh right now.

Sometimes the light's all shining on me. Sometimes I can barely see. Lately it's occured to me... what a long, strange trip it's been. -Grateful Dead.


All right. I am so regretting the decision to type that sucker up. It was longer than it looked. But I needed the advice from myself. How is it, I wonder, that you can know something once and by writing it down encourage your future self with advice? It's the same kind of strangeness that is dreaming. I don't get how one part of your brain creates a picture-story and the other part watches, acting surprised all along. How is it that my former faith-filled, single and eager self of 22 could give current Alana of 28 a pep talk about the grace of a woman?

i couldn't make this up if i tried. few things compare to the phrase, "i knapped it".
why brandon, why?