Monday, March 05, 2012

Oh Tho Precothiouth

I referred to this story in my last post and have decided to tell it. Don't worry, it's a shorty.

A few years ago we went to Virginia to visit some friends. On one of the days we went to Washington DC to see the sights--highly recommended, beeteedubs. As we neared the end of our visit to the Museum of Natural History Tanner came giggling over to us to report the conversation he had just overheard. We were standing in a room with a timeline of the different prehistorical eras on the wall, represented on the floor behind a glass partition by various models of small creatures that lived during the corresponding eras. The convo went something like this:

5 year old boy to a man we assume was his father, though he could very well have been his uncle or cousin, possibly even a guy from the Big Brother program, but let's get back to the story before we ruin it with speculative trivia: "What?! I didn't know there were thealth (seals) in the Methothoic Era!"

Accompanying male adult, pointing to the timeline: ", that's the Cenozoic."

Boy: "Oh, haha. That makth more thenth."

Not sure if it was the lisp, Tanner's rendition of the lisp, the fact that a 5 year old boy would even have that conversation, the fact that Tanner was so immensely amused by it, or, most likely, some combination thereof that we have found so funny over the years, but let's just say that last line is common around here.

Upon my tenth reread I'm beginning to worry that this is one of those stories that is funnier in person than in writing. Hope not.

And fine, if it's driving you crazy the title of this post is Oh So Precocious. In lisp.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

I 'Heart' YA too!

Oh, hahaha! You probably thought I died!

Must we talk about this again? Sometimes I go on hiatus. For long periods of time. Just accept it. I have.

^That was a fun paragraph, don't you think? Lots of little minisentences. And they got progressively shorter, haha! It's true, I'm easily amused--but that's what you love about me! Okay, friends, let's get down to bidness.

Part of the reason for this latest absence is that my missionary came home from Fiji just in time for Christmas. Then he left again after 3 little teeny tiny, inadequate, yet abundantly appreciated weeks to go to BYU Hawaii. I'm telling you, he ripped my heart right out and took it with him in his carry on.

Whoa, I almost launched into a diatribe about how painful it is when children grow up and leave you, but frankly I'm a bit tired of sobbing thinking about it all the time. I'm finally ready to put my big girl panties back on and just deal with it. Oh, so easy to say, haha, ANYWAY!

Today I would like to tell you about something I'm excited about. It features my Aunt Suzanne, whom we used to call Aunt Suzie, but then she made everybody start calling her Suzanne, which was really hard to get used to, but then I did and now she's decided to go by Suze, which I thought was "Sooz", but it's "Suzie." I know, I found it complicated too. The reason she changed it again is because she's an AUTHOR! And there's already some other author named Suzanne Reese, so she has a new pen name and now I'm having a heck of a time trying to make myself call her Suze! Now that I think about it, I'm not sure if I'm supposed to call her that. It's a pen name. Remind me to ask her about it later.

Aunt Suze is only five years older than me, but when you're 11 and she's 16 that's a BIG DIF! Back then I thought she was the COOLEST! I will even admit that I was intimidated and somewhat shy around her back then, because of her coolness. Our relationship has changed and evolved over the years. Now that I'm 43 and she's--hey, I'm not telling you her age! That's her business!--the difference is barely noticeable. We are very much sisterfriends now. Except for this one thing: I continue to look up to her as the COOLEST! It used to be about her big hair and how she was pretty enough to work at MCDONALDS! (Funny story--ask me some time.) But now it's more about how she's so smart (SO smart!) and a real, live published author--and a good one, too! She's creative and ambitious and still kind of intimidating with her life-planning and mothering skillz, but she accepts me with my quirks and flaws and best of all: she lets me edit her stuff. Yum! (Seriously, so yummy. Omm nom nom! Gimme WORDS!)

Her two books are Where Hearts Prosper (WARNING: this book was badly edited--not our fault; publisher's fault--grrrrrrrr!) and Extra Normal, both YA fiction, both really good.

Suze Reese

Yesterday, Suze launched her Blog Carnival: I 'Heart' YA. It's why ay, not yuh, in case you had the same problem I did for a couple minutes. Um, I heart you too, Suze. Oh wait--OH! YA, as in Young Adult! Huh huh, that makth more thenth (<--even funnier story--perhaps I'll blog it sometime *chuckle*). Apparently there is a large demographic of YA fiction lovers and enthusiasts out there in cyberspace. Who knew? Suze did, cuz she's smart like that. That's her cute logo up there. ^

What is a Blog Carnival, right? That's what I said. Here, I'll let her tell you: 
I HEART YA is a Blog Carnival for readers, writers, and lovers of young adult fiction. Every Tuesday there will be a blogging prompt that celebrates my favorite reading genre --YA fiction. Bloggers are invited to write their own take on the topic and post a link in the comment section, or if you prefer just put your thoughts in the comments.
Uuummmm...I kinda just realized this post was supposed to be about how I came to love YA fiction.  Seriously no idea. I guess when my daughters started reading it? Yep, that's what it was. Okay. Done.

Want more YA fiction action? Want to see how to find Aunt Suze's books? Come on over to her blog: and see!

Friday, September 16, 2011

Jello For You

This is a post I started a while back, so the admission of blogging slackage isn't exactly relevant right this very minute. But we all know it often is, so I'm sure you can use your imagination if you need to.

I couldn't stand the guilt of going a minute longer without updating my blog! I just finished reading all my regulars and after savoring the yummy words of some of my dearest friends I thought, "Not cool, Keems. You can't keep showing up to this potluck with no jello," or something like that.

Unforch, there are lots of ideas jumping around in my head, but they're like that little black dot in your vision: as soon as you try to focus on it, it jumps back out of sight.

Perhaps I will tell you about a little thing we like to call 'Chinese Christmas'.

As you are likely aware (since you are reading this and there are only like three people who read this), Bob is a bit of a shopper. He loves getting his shop on.

Imagine what it must be like for him to go to China where everything is 90% cheaper than it is back home. Poor Bob is practically helpless in that situation, and virtually compelled to buy enough stuff to also have to buy a new suitcase in which to carry home the merchandise. We have a lot of suitcases. Luckily they only last for a couple of trips before they break, which should keep the number of suitcases down. What we really have is a lot of broken suitcases. But you didn't need to know that.

There are several things that Bob regularly buys such as shoes, jeans, candy, gum and DVDs. And then there are things he buys once in a while, like pearls, purses, scarves and watches. And then there are things he buys once, like high heeled tennis shoes and this 
I only made it that big so you can read the Point! section. And I especially enjoy the bathroom scene. Where can I get me one of those double-toilet baffrooms? Think of the great conversations we could have! Anyways, I have that guy on my desk. In orange. And I believe someone has the blue one. You know who you are and you'd better have it on your WORK desk! At WORK!

Sorry to distract you like that--I was talking about Chinese Christmas before the desk art caused a pretty pervasive tangent. Anyways, Chinese Christmas is what we call it when Bob comes home from China and opens his suitcases (yes, plural). Was that self-explanatory? I can't always tell.

Chinese Christmas is very exciting and also stinky. Everything smells like China and that ain't no compliment. We all can't wait for our regulars: shoes! shirts! new gum flavors! yes! I wanted to see that movie!; our semi-regulars: awesome, you got scarves! and a tablecloth!; and then there are the one-timers: what in the mutated Chinese knick-knacks is that?!

Chinese Christmas usually stays scattered around our living room for a few days as we try to find more room in our closets for China-scented clothing and new places for the undefinables. Sometimes they go straight to the gift closet to await the White Elephant Party in December.

I'm sure this will be one my family's most treasured accidental traditions in the years to come. Sometimes I wonder if there will come a day when Bob doesn't travel to China anymore and I'll be left longing for just one more set of blueberry-colored pearls for my brother-in-law's grandmother. I hope it never happens.

Do you have any accidental traditions? Tell me about them!

Monday, September 12, 2011

When Life Gives You Lemonade...

The following embarrassing, but hilarious story is not about me this time. It's about my sister, whom I have called Bwuthow since Jr. High. She calls me Bwuthow too. We don't know why, so you can keep wondering but it won't do you any good.

She is a massage therapist. I know, lucky me, right? Oh, yes.

One day she was giving her friend a massage. She had to haul her very heavy massage table up to her friend's attic where it was nice and sweltering. Then she had to give a 60 minute massage, which was just plain exhausting. Then she had to carry her still heavy table back down the stairs and out into the toasty summer sun. So you and I can both imagine how delighted she was when her friend brought out a delicious glass of icy lemonade for the drive home.  Yum!

She set the lemonade on the roof of her car while she loaded up the table.

Right now you're probably thinking that you know what's going to happen in this story, because so did I. But you can just hold your little horses for a sec.

Okay, yes, it's a given that she left it on top of the car. I mean, she is my sister after all, so it's kind of obv. But that lemonade stayed right there. It didn't go flying down the road or rolling down her windshield onto the hood. It stayed right there all the way until she opened up the sunroof.

Colleege! Observations From an Overaged Student

How is school going, you ask? Well, let me tell you: it's going great! Yes, there were the typical first-and-second-day disasters that everyone has, like having the sprinkler come on in your face at lunchtime and being doused in a bowl of hot chicken noodle soup. But really, just the usual stuff.

And, well, I guess there's the one thing where I look like a big loser eating lunch by myself EVERY DAY. But aside from that I am having a blast. I love being in the classroom. I love the teachers, the assignments, the atmosphere. If I were going to night classes or something, there would probably be plenty of other people my age. But I go during the daytime. Regular school hours. And I am one of two older students in each of my classes. Except the other ones are like 30. I don't mind. I actually kinda like it. When introducing myself in one class I told them if they can't remember my name they can just call me mom. They are the same age as at least 2 of my children, although far more diverse.

Let's face it, SLCC is cheap. Which is why I'm going there for now. But that also makes it the County Fair* of colleges. For one thing, there is no dress code. I have a problem with that because of the many unwelcome bodyparts I am forced to know way too much about due to the child-sized dollar store clothes (or is it GenX?) which many of my schoolmates choose to wear. But I can't help being fascinated by it at the same time. And the conversations I overhear are also very...entertaining. My favorite: "Yeah, well, when she gets out of prison I'm not even gonna talk to her!" Me neither, buddy. And why do you have a tattoo on your neck?

The tattoos are another story, but you already know that. I do. not. get it.

So, here is a funny story for you that happened last week: I was sitting by myself at lunch, AS USUAL, and may I say right here that it is a shame about that because the people-watching is fabulous there and I have no one to share it with. But anyways, so I was sitting at an outside table, looking like a loser but trying to look like I meant to sit by myself, possibly because no one else was cool enough to sit by me, but more likely because I'm old and don't have any friends...yet. And I heard this girl going around to groups of people asking very enthusiastically whether or not they'd heard that the Plain White T's are coming to campus!!! <--Her exclamations, not mine.

Eventually she got to the cool-kids'-table-for-one, came up behind me and exclaimed, "Did you hear the Plain White T's are coming to campus?!!!" I took a flyer from her and said, "Oh, cool!" She continued her spiel as she walked around to the front of my table and finally looked at me. At that point she hesitated. "Um...if you maybe have some kids...or...," and that's when she saw the look on my face which must have accurately communicated how UNcool that was what she just said to me, and she tried backpedaling, "or...if maybe you like them...or...," as she backed away and quickly moved on to her next appropriate-aged clients. To quench my feelings of insult and also to prove her wrong, even though she wouldn't ever know, I grabbed my iPod and pulled up the 5 Plain White T's songs I have on there. Ha! So there! And then I tried to evaluate the situation. What exactly was bothering me? That she recognized how old I am? Well, I am. That she had the audacity to assume I have kids old enough to go to a Plain White T's concert? Well, I do. In the end I realized what really bothered me was that I was bothered so much by it. THAT's the part that makes me old!  "How DARE you guess my correct age! Why I oughtta!"

Sheesh. Old people.

*When you are at the County Fair, don't you always wonder where did all these people come from? Do they live in the county limits? Why don't I ever see them any other time except sometimes at Walmart? Where do they hide out the rest of the year? Do they just wait for the County Fair and then say, "ColbyAnn, getcher tube top on! We're headin' to our once-a-year outing: the COUNTY FAIR!" And then when they grow up they go to SLCC, I guess.

Wednesday, August 31, 2011


In an effort to become more literate and edgamacated I have decided to go back to school. I didn't tell you way back when I made the decision because I didn't want to be that girl who says I'm going to do something, but then later when you ask about it she's all oh I didn't do it. So I wanted to surprise you and really be doing it when I told you about it.

Do you like how I acted like you didn't already know even though the only people who read this blog (that I know about) would already know such a thing? It's for the future when my readership is through the ROOF!

I don't think I want to go into my real reasons for going back because it will take too long, but it seems like I'm about to. Yep, I'm about to.

Short version:
Although it should have been super-obv for my whole life, including my childhood, which I realize was implied, it never, for some reason, occurred to me that there is something I love to do that could be a reason to earn a degree and which could also become a career. And as soon as I tell you what it is you will wonder how I could possibly have written the preceding sentence (but I'm really tired and I don't curr). I have been obSESSed (ask anyone) with proofreading and editing ever since I can remember (don't say it!) and always proofread everything I read. Mistakes jump up off the page and smack me in the face and I LOVE correcting them. I know, super nerdy. But I really love it.
So a few months ago it hit me over the head like unto an anvil and the rest is herstory (haha--get it?).

So I will be making Colleege posts here and there to let you know how it's going, especially since it's hard for you to sleep at night wondering how school is going and stuff.

I was going to tell you about my first two days and a couple of my teachers, but my video homework just finished burning to disc and it's after midnight and I have classes all day tomorrow and then a 3-hour night class, so I gotsta get to bed.


P.S. Boy am I going to be horrified when I read this later and find all my mistakes. And I call myself a proofreader!

Monday, April 11, 2011

Note to an Absentminded Musician:

BONO, why don't you just tell me what it is so I can help you look? This has been going on far too long. When you first said you couldn't find it I felt bad and wished you the best and everything. But then you kept going on and on about it. Every time I turned around there you were, whining again. Geez!

By and by you've lightened up a little and only lamented occasionally, but still, I find myself silently asking, "Seriously, Bono? Still?"

I just heard you keening again the other day and I mean it's been like 25 years! Come! On! Either find it or move on already!

I'm sorry my friend, but I have to ask: are you sure you're really even looking?!