I don't think I resent it, as my husband is very happy and has spent the last two months looking at and talking about TVs. I have spent the last two months looking at and talking about baby stuff. So he better not resent anything up that alley. I am a little ashamed of it though. It seems so...gluttonous to have it filling up our living room. My parents paid slightly more for their current car than we paid for this TV--I know they will definitely disapprove when they find out.
You know, I did originally tell Austin no. That's what wives are supposed to do, right? Keep their husbands from buying impractical and expensive electronics? I told him he wouldn't get a Father's Day present and that I wanted a baby grand piano, etc. I realize these are not great reasons for a guy to hold off from buying a big screen TV, but I figured that I married a practical man who is a FINANCE major so he would be able to resist until it was more in the budget. I guess I underestimated the allure of...this thing. It's huge. Yes, it will make Mario Kart that much better, but it's just sitting here, dominating our apartment. There is just no hiding it.
One time I made a list of all the things that made me happy and then I found my older sister reading it and it was embarrassing. (I think I had such juvenile things like "flirting with boys" on there) and what was worse, she said she really liked my list and added to it. Schmarmy things that I can't even remember--anyway, I thought they were cheesy and I didn't agree with them so it wasn't my list anymore and I probably added her to my list of the things that make me mad. I actually have one of those around somewhere. The only things I remember from it are "slow people walking in front of me" and "being woken up from a nap."
Words I can't ever spell right:
The city in California where the Lakers are from (Los ____)
The photo i.d. you take with you when you drive or buy cigarettes (Driver's _____)
Ivor and I are going to see Iron Man and Indiana Jones this Saturday. That's the plan at least. Anyone else not have plans for Memorial Day weekend and feel like glutting themselves on two big-budget pop flicks in the same day!? Remember, if you're not with us, you're against us.
My apartment is a dump.
It didn’t always use to be this way; in fact it has a lot of potential to not be like this. One Thanksgiving break when I was marooned by myself in my apartment, the place was spotless, there were no dishes in the sink, the counters were clean, and the floor was swept. It smelled nice. This time though, I’m not that lucky.
I came home last night to find my roommate in his parking spot on the couch, feeding his face and adding to the mess in the kitchen and living room. While the TV blared ESPN (the only station that my roommates watch) I went to the kitchen to think about a snack. Wrappers of tortilla packages, empty Top Ramen packets, dirt and crumbs of all kinds chips and bread, and salsa stains littered the floor. The counters weren't any better; no less than five cans of Welch’s grape soda stood empty-- two of which were tipped over and lying in a dried puddle of its contents. These framed the open package of chicken breast, raw meat glistening in the fluorescent light, sitting prominently on the island counter. Four used plates with its accompanying unwashed utensils sat next to three bowls, its remnants of milk and cereal long dried and crusty. As though to indicate that breakfast had been eaten here, bags of Coco-Roos, Tootie-Fruities, and Marshmallow Mateys leaned against the sterile white cinder blocked wall. Their contents too were spilled on the counter.
That’s just the counter. You can probably imagine what’s in the sink. I think about cleaning, but it's too much. It's not my mess. It's not my problem.
I used to try to fight a one man war against messy kitchens because my wise mother once told me the places that have to be the cleanest in the house were the kitchen and the bathroom. Your house should be a haven to you right? It should be a place of comfort and peace, so I would patiently wash the dishes, and put them away, trying desperately to create some cleanliness, only to come back twenty minutes later and find two or three pots in the sink, uneaten macaroni and cheese floating in them, and a mountain of plates all waiting to be washed, every time I cleaned. Gradually this wore me out, my protests would always fall on deaf ears, and apathy set in.
I think the earliest this came was on my mission, when our apartment was so dirty that I started throwing empty wrappers and letting crumbs fall on the floor beside the trash can (not in) just to see if I could make it dirty enough for the other missionaries to wake up and smell the rotting trash. It didn’t work. We had ants instead. But it didn't matter to me then either, I was going home. It wasn't my problem.
I sometimes feel bad about my apathy, thinking "I should be more charitable and do service". Then apathy rears its head and says "No, you didn't make the mess. Just wash your own dishes and you'll be fine." I usually listen to my apathy. I don't care enough to help clean up the spilled Welch's grape soda. It's not my mess. It's not my problem.
This apathy is becoming a problem. The other night our toilet got clogged and started to flood the apartment. Toileted water floated across the vanity floor and into our living room, drenching the carpet. It dripped its way through the cracks in the caulking and down into Dan's apartment downstairs. I heard it tripped the circuit breaker (Sorry Dan but it really wasn't my fault, or at least I wasn't directly involved). I watched my roommates plunge madly away at the toilet, desperately turn off the water to the commode, and I heard their shocked tones when they discovered that the toilet was somehow vomiting more toileted water across the floor despite their efforts. I offered sympathetic comments about how much this "sucked".
I'm sitting right now, and taking my own break. It's only been an hour that I've been slouched in this chair staring at my laptop and trying desperately to keep writing my assignments that are due. I'm burning out, and I don't want to do it anymore, so I do what I always do when I'm frustrated with work: I start taking everything out of my pockets. Maybe it's a comfort thing, I dunno, but I grab my brick of an iPod and two sticks of chap-stick (why did I need two?) and throw them into my backpack. I don't bother to zip it up because it doesn't matter-- they are deep in the pocket and won't fall out. I place my fat, canvas wallet on the table and sit again. It always feels funny sitting without my wallet in my back pocket. It's softer.
None of this helps, though. I've still got three hours of work to get done before I take my Spanish test tomorrow (early, because of my trip,) and I don't want to do it. I miss summer being a fun time, when you could play all day in the sun and the grass and maybe go to work at then drive around to the beach and just sit.
I miss time to just sit.
We build statues of snow and weep when they melt.
I'm a little bored. Just listening to iTunes. My little sis just called and asked if I wanted to go see that new Narnia movie...which I kind of do, but we just bought a Wii, and we haven't bought a crib or anything for the baby, so now I feel bad spending money. I was going to be all crafty and make curtains for our apartment, but the sewing machine is still in the back of the car, which Austin took to work. He's gone until eleven tonight, and he hates his job. He's just waiting for his real job to start in September. I'm just waiting for the baby to come, but at least I like my job.
I found that quote up at the top in one of my old newspapers from the 1800s. I think it's by Sir Walter Scott. I know it should be followed by a profound blog. Do I even have that in me though? Someone else needs to write a profound blog for me. I'm taking a water aerobics class. I thought I might sink because I have a big preggie stomach now. We get water noodles to hold though. I have to wear this gross grandma swimsuit because again, I don't want to shell out for a swimsuit that I'll only wear for a couple months. Sorry, I'm just writing. Trying to focus in on something that's just a little too far. But since everyone just reads this blog as a timewaster anyway, I don’t feel bad about wasting your time.
If you are going to invite the missionaries over, you should at least be there to help. I know I said that I would take care of it, but you should know that I meant I would take care of most of it. Not all. I still need you there to help. But no, you are off studying somewhere. Thinking that everything is going to be perfect when you get back. But really, I just got out of the shower from work, my hairs is sopping, my make-up is not done, the house is a mess, we don’t have a bread, drink, or a dessert, and the table isn’t set. So yes, I took care of the main dish, but you should have been there for the rest.
This is my thought process as I am bumbling around trying to get everything together for the missionaries. I grumbled and gave David the cold shoulder as soon as he entered the door. He said sorry. He said, “Please forgive me. I didn’t know.” But I continued to turn from him. And then he had to leave to pick up the missionaries. So our night will be filled with fake smiles and superficial conversation about how everything is going fine. I pick up the computer and books off the kitchen table and lug them into the bedroom. I realize that I also have to write a talk about baptism for tomorrow, and I haven’t even begun. Talk. Speeches. I pause as I throw the lettuce into a bowl. David had to give a speech last night at the dinner he went to.
I was sitting at the computer when he finally walked through the door last night at . I looked up, annoyed.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he said, “How are you?”
“I thought you said it would be over at ?” I questioned.
“Well, it went longer.”
I roll my eyes, “Typical of your life.”
Do I ask how the dinner went? Do I ask how his speech—that I helped write—was received? No. I don’t even ask him about his day. I proceed to tell him about the frustrations of mine and how I can’t get certified and how I have to find a temp job before I go crazy. How I can’t stand being alone for that long each day. How I want to go back home. How I, how I, how I.
But I didn’t even ask him about his day.
I slow down as I set the table and really wish I hadn’t been so unkind when he first came in. How I wish I wasn’t emotional. How I wish that I had given him a hug and let the house be messy when the missionaries came and forget the stupid side dishes, at least we would be happy. How I wish that I had asked him about his day. How I, how I, how I.
And that’s when I realize, not only do I get worst wife award—but I deserve it.
When the pistons grind
and the shackled joints swell,
the pulse of scraping chains
cause the dust to mix
with the sweat and blood of me.
After blazes of that crimson fire
scorched and cracked
my face, marred and bleeding
my soul at last has place for stature
and I know for whom and for what
I am broken.
"[Truthful essays] simply take us into a true landscape and let us walk around beside them. And in this way, they turn their essays into an art form. They allow us--they do not force or push us--but allow us to connect."
"Hey! Did you know that turkeys will peck to death members of the flock that are physically inferior or different. Such stupid birds. No wonder everyone kills them for Thanksgiving." S. Morgan
This is not a deep thought about writing, or in fact a thought at all. Anona
MY SISTER MEGAN GAVE ME THIS BOX S. Morgan
Every birthday is big when you’re in your 90’s. This is when people start to say, “Any day now. . . .” And even if you don’t hear them, you still know they’re saying it. So I’m going to keep going...After turning 100 there’s really nothing left to live for, so that’s when I plan to die.
Today is a momentous day in scribblerhood. Julie
I'M ENGAGED!!! Jenny
I wonder why people blog the things that they do. Rhett
First question, what is the voice you don't want to hear? Anona
Sometimes I wish I was a child in Africa. Julie
I’m getting the feeling that this—the true union between two people—is what marriage is all about, which is strange considering I’ve heard this all my life. Leanna
Now there’s a sharp pain, like a knife running down the back of my hand, following the bone of my pointer finger. I have to stop again. But I have to write. Travis
Rumors are hurtful Julie and you shouldn't post them on the blog. Dan
I’m just putting it out there in hopes that by doing so, I can focus on everything else in my life a little more clearly. Leanna
Now the piano
slides up and down the treble like a hurricane
with da, da, da, da in the bass.Travis
You know all those obnoxious EFY counselors and participants that everyone hates seeing on campus? The ones that congest our already narrow paths and scream so loudly that we can't concentrate in our classrooms? Well I've been stalking them. EmPo
Yesterday after my last class my teacher asked, "Now who will you be when you get back?" Anona
Sigh. Mood swings, bipolar living—I blame it all on the birth control. I just feel discombobulated.
p.s. Sorry I missed the party. Anona
So much of that Center is alive. Sometime I think I can feel the chairs breathing underneath me, and the walls pulsing with the flow of blood and life. JulieWhen I am honest with myself, though, I know I want more than that. I want to do more than just finish college; I want to wait until at least my mid-twenties to get married; and I want to stop my education or career when I am ready to, and not because our culture seems to expect it of me. Is that too much to want? Kristen
Falling pine tree. Tears. Dead beaver. S. Morgan
Sis. Morgan: "If that's a snake, you're fired."
Me: "I have two weeks. Fire me."
Anona at the rodeo: "What are those chicas doing there?" Kristen
"I can feel my neurons straining." Jami
Mike seemed gruff and scary, but we bonded when his Megaman T-shirt struck up a conversation about that terrific series of games. Chan
I thought the poor fish was sleeping. Is that possible? Do fish sleep? By yesterday, however, it was definitely dead. Very, very, very dead. Kristen
I miss you all like crazy. Julie
Probably about 40 people watched me make a complete fool of myself. It was great. Dan
The realization that I am definitely leaving hasn't sunk in yet. I thought it would when I got my flight plan in the mail; I thought it would when I sent in my deferment; I thought it would when people started trickling back to school. Nope. Instead I continue in my la-te-dahness. Kirsten
Today's excitement reached its zenith when I found a new bottle of gel/pomade stuff in the bathroom and put some in my hair after my shower. Chan
I have calluses on my fingertps and the palms of my hands. Leanna
I learned a valuable lesson today: If you're going to go fishing without a license, don't fish anywhere near where you park. Dan
But as I didn't cuss and and didn't laugh at their jokes, things got cleaner. The guys are good hearted. Chan
So, since nobody in attendance at potluck drinks fermented anything (plus the fact that it tasted funny) the remainder of my lemonade got poured down the drain. I think next time I’ll skip the rice and hard lemonade and just bring Jell-o. Kirsten
Of course, this mood probably won't last until our meeting on Tuesday, so, don't worry; by then you can expect me to be back to my onery self again. S. Morgan
I hate my job...On a lighter note...I currently have a beard. Chan
My husband left me Friday morning. Leanna
I always end up with the best people in the whole universe working for the Center. S. Morgan
As this girl in a session today said, pain in sports is like a toy in your Happy Meal--you just expect it. Anona
Wait, wait. I have to stick my hand where to get what out of the turkey????" Julie
Excuse me. There is a spider crawling on my couch S. Morgan
I had a dream last night that I caught a teeny, tiny, orange feral cat that went crazy clawing and scratching every time I touched it. Tell me what that means and you can have a peppermint from the basket by the front desk. Chan
Anona, a "kid" is a small goat. You are going to have a baby.
Chan, Chan, the bearded man. S. Morgan
I continued walking when the sweat had turned to coldness. Travis
And why do I not want to look them in the eyes when I tell them my plans? Leanna
I see you all have become incredibly silly in my absence. Anona
Tell me how wrong that is. Wait, don't. I already know. Julie
I have a fear. It’s of opening up too much. Or too little. But that contradiction seems in keeping with the paradoxes shared at the party tonight. Shannon
Life is about leaving. EmPo
I knew though in my heart that the words of the old hymn rang true. “We thank thee O God for a Prophet”. Ivor
I’ve found myself occasionally doing something I’m not overly proud of. Matthew
It puzzles him to see other dogs and deer walk on water. S. Morgan
The wind blows across a lake and whistles through the trees and through my ears; waves are created that attempt to scale the boulder on which I’m perched. They all talk to me, and I seem so far from alone, but I’m distanced by the fact that I cannot speak their language. Shannon
What if as soon as I go to the door I'll get hit over the head with a frying pan and sold into the slave market across the world? Julie
I should be better, but instead I’m daydreaming of Jami singing at MY funeral. S. Morgan
As I pushed my cold corn around my tray, listening to the other faculty members talk about how many points each portion of their meal was according to their new weight watchers program, I wondered—what will happen to me in 11 weeks and 4 days when I finish my student teaching? EmPo
Behind my door and alone in my room, I can finally say, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry”—but again no one hears me. Hyrum
I thought you were suppose to feel refreshed after your visiting teachers came. I just feel drained for them and scared for my own mental functioning. Julie
This is me not writing my big fat essay that's due tomorrow in Bro. Samuelson's class. Chan
I’m the teacher, so I tried to be the adult in the situation and just said in my sweetest sarcastic voice, “That’s okay. You don’t have to like my clothes. Quite frankly, I don’t have to like your clothes, either. But none of that matters right now. You should be working on your questions.” EmPo
Because you don't say good-bye, I never realized that I had actually left Rexburg & thought I could run down & talk to you any time. Guess not. Sarah
I’m scared of starting over. Sara Lee
God wants me awake. Nate
I exploded. Shannon
I just had to use the word "Tire" no less than four times in the title of this post. Matthew
I really hope the scriptures are true when it says that the same sociality will exist, and I'll be able to scowl at him again when he walks into the room cheerful and smiling. Ivor
I don't even know if "authorship" is a word, but I'm celebrating it. Jami
I've never seen Sister Morgan dance around a fire with eagle feathers in her hair, but she must do it often because she was quite skilled at doing so. Jami
Can something be unfair just because I want it to be? Hyrum
WAHOO! (I think an exclamation mark is warranted here) Sara Lee
This is not, according to my opinion, where those (things) have been done, to ask nothing more. Dan
I picture my creative spark as this little Amish man. Matthew
I didn’t quite know what to say to that, so I just smiled and nodded my head. Sure yeah whatever you say… Leanna