well... it's your own fault for looking.

in which brenda becomes a french icequeen

2005-03-20T20:14:00.000-08:00

just so you know, i'm probably not going to be writing in my blog for some time. i may just leave it where it is and stop updating all-together. some things are best kept to ones self, i've decided, and bundling them up and letting other people read them is just getting too... open.

i've decided to stop wearing my heart on my sleeve and become coy and aloof. it's a new concept i picked up from a book one of my best friends in the world gave me. from now on, if people want to know something about me, they'll just have to make an effort and actually contact me.

one last thing-- one of my favorite poems. it's by pablo neruda, and it's better in spanish, but here is a fairly good translation. pablo neruda is, of course, a man. i am, of course, a woman. thus, the gender cases do not apply directly to my line of experience, but the emotion is all too familiar and the language gorgeous.

SADDEST POEM
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.

Write, for instance: "The night is full of stars,
and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance."

The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

On nights like this, I held her in my arms.
I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her.
How could I not have loved her large, still eyes?

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her.

To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.

What does it matter that my love couldn't keep her.
The night is full of stars and she is not with me.
That's all. Far away, someone sings. Far away.
My soul is lost without her.

As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her.
My heart searches for her and she is not with me.

The same night that whitens the same trees.
We, we who were, we are the same no longer.

I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her.
My voice searched the wind to touch her ear.

Someone else's. She will be someone else's. As she once
belonged to my kisses.
Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her.
Love is so short and oblivion so long.

Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,
my soul is lost without her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.

hmph.

2005-03-01T21:42:00.000-08:00

if i want to dye my hair, i can dye MY HAIR! it's MY HAIR, dammit!! and besides, it comes out in 8 to 10 washes anyway. so THBBBBBBBBBBBBBBPT to you, comrade! THBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBPT to you INDEED!!!

"brenda: the unemployed lobster of sloth" or "the quest to resurrect sparkles the wonder dog"

2005-02-24T12:06:00.000-08:00

i am, once again, unemployed. i had a job-- sort of. i was hired at Harris Interactive, formerly Wirthlin Worldwide, to conduct telephone surveys. well i wasn't technically "hired." i was invited to participate in training, in which one doesn't actually get paid for the first two days. this two-day unpaid period is because, in the most technical of terms, this job blows. i came home from the first day of training practically homicidal, but i did show up for training the second day. during the second day of training, after being told by an irritated secretary what a waste of time i was for about the 15th time, i got up, called my mom, and left. yep. i walked out on a job. it was just that miserable.

that same day, i traversed all over the greater orvo area looking for a job. no one-- NO ONE-- is hiring. i turned in a few applications, which they will "put on file" (please. i worked in retail. "put on file" means "throw away.") or will "get back to me on." riiiight. in the mean time, i'm doing stuff around the house for my mother, who is paying me. i would look more actively for a job (workforce services, etc), but brittany, my friend from pennsylvania who i haven't seen in nearly six years, is coming to visit me for a week and hell if i'm going to say "well, britt, it's great to see you. why don't you hang out with my mom while i go to work?" so here i am-- unemployed and unmotivated. i am the lobster of sloth.

and speaking of sloth: i... am such... a dork. seriously. for those of you who regularly get/read the newspaper, the comic strip "Foxtrot" has been running a series in which jason, the terminally dweeby son, has been obsessively playing something called "World of Warquest." this is, in fact, a farce of two games-- "EverQuest II" and "World of Warcraft." i have fallen victim to the second of these two sirens. i am a WoWaholic. it's tragic. i actually stayed up until 4:30am questing to get my dwarven hunter up to a level 10 because at level 10 hunters can train beasts (boars, bears, leopards, wolves, etc) to be their pets. i had already gotten another hunter up to level 10 (i was only up until 3am that time) and had trained a wolf, which i named sparkles. however, the game decided to go retarded and take away my ability to feed sparkles, who then became upset and left me. i destroyed that character and made another, who i absolutely had to get up to a level 10 so that i could train another wolf and name him sparkles, because heaven knows i can't have a real pet in real life. so yes... YES, i stayed up until 4:30am, but it was for the love of a pet! a computer generated pet, but a pet all the same. and he's the best computer generated pet i've ever had and i don't regret a moment of it and don't judge me because love makes you do crazy things. CRAZY THINGS!!

now if you'll excuse me, sparkles and i have some troggs to kill.

"rewarding jerkfaceness" or "blenna bojangles's v-day chola tattoo"

2005-02-15T12:44:00.000-08:00

okay, now that i've had a little bit of time to calm down about the "icing on the cake" as i last put it, i can talk about it without becoming completely enraged. Neal Johnson-- my high school drama teacher and arch nemisis-- has been named the best drama teacher in utah's 4A division. one must understand that this is the only man i have ever truly hated. my mother told me about his being awarded and i felt really nauseated the rest of the day. ugh. i still feel nauseated thinking about it. but i won't dwell on it. deeeep sooooothing breaths...

i hope you all had a lovely valentine's day. i spent last valentine's day with a bunch of my friends (one-legged chris, krystal, natalie, and nate), packing and moving my stuff out of The Apartment of Death. we also got kicked out of a sushi restauraunt and almost got kicked out of fazoli's. good times. this valentine's day was spent with a few of the same friends (chris and krystal), plus some new friends (mary, elijah, shalese, and the guy whose name i can never remember, no matter how hard i try) at some guy's house that i just met last night. (the guy. i didn't really "meet" the house, per se.) elijah ordered some pizza and while we were waiting, shalese decided she wanted chocolate covered strawberries and i wanted some dr. pepper. so we went on a field trip to Albertson's and purchased aforementioned strawberries and dr. pepper. on the way out, shalese and krystal each got one of those rub-on tattoos from the dispenser in the lobby area. krystal (who has decided my name should henceforth be "blenna bojangles") gave me hers, which was this porn star-esque woman with the lower body of a snake. on the back it said something about "high-quality latin tattoos," meaning that this was, as a matter of fact, a chola-snake. shalese dared me to put it on my... um... well... as we all know, i can't say no to a dare. so there it is. i have a mostly naked chola-snake on my chest and there's really not much i can do about it. but at least i wasn't sitting at home bored and alone!

alright, i'm off to go get ready for a job interview. heaven help me. maybe the interviewer likes chola-snakes.

"the return of the brenda" or "love in the time of consumption"

2005-02-10T14:30:00.000-08:00

i'm baaaaack. that's right. utah can now breathe a sigh of relief. i have returned from BFE idaho.

i went up to idaho on december 27 so that i could lend my sister, heather, and her husband, david, a hand with the house and kids while heather had her baby. when i got there, heather was on strict bedrest and had to be down pretty much 24/7, so i was in charge of cooking, cleaning, and the like, while david got the kids off to school in the morning and put them to bed at night. there was much playing of pacman and pole position and a fairly good time was had by all. on january 6, heather had her baby, naomi marie anderson, and, for a day or two, i was THE ONLY parental figure in the house. this meant that i was in charge of getting the kids to school and doing homework and potty accidents and everything. a mother i am not, let me tell you. then, heather came home, and i became an occassional cook and cleaner. my job was mostly to keep heather amused and help out when i was needed.

and then... the plague struck. it started with david, then went to heather, then to my nephew benjamin, then my niece kristin, and finally... to me and naomi. (my nephew tyler is just starting to get it.) for me, it started with a stuffy head and a lot of sneezing, then turned into acute chest pains. the chest pains were relieved when the cough started. that was three weeks ago, and i still... STILL have a cough. i wasn't scheduled to come home until the 22nd of February or so, but heather and david decided (and i agreed) that the best thing for me would be to go home and see my own doctor and get better in my own bed. so i flew home and... dah dah dah DAAAAAAA!!... here i am.

i tried to tell everyone that i had consumption, as i find consumption to be terribly romantic and tragic, but the reality is somewhat less romantic. i went to the doctor today and found out that i have bronchitis, a sinus infection, and strep throat. woooo doggy. good times, let me tell you. so now i get to sit around and feel very cross indeed, and complain about the (expletive deleted) at borders who won't give me my job back. (expletive deleted repeated for emphasis).

but oh... OH... the icing on the cake is yet to come. in the interest of keeping these posts a reasonable length, i shall include it in a different post. oh... i am insensed, let me tell you....

to be continued...?

ciao!

2004-12-26T20:41:00.000-08:00

just so you all know, i'm officially leaving for idaho in less than twelve hours. i'll miss you! if you want to get a hold of me, e-mail me at sixtwofourlillypad@hotmail.com. MWAH!

i'm haunted. no. seriously.

2004-11-24T09:32:00.000-08:00

so some of you may be familiar with my stories of personal hauntings (the man in black, the guy trying on a hat, the lamp on the tv, the lightbulbs in the bathroom...). i've come to the conclusion that it's not so much that the HOUSES i live in being haunted... but more like MYSELF being haunted. things follow me.

yes... it's happened again. in possibly the creepiest fashion.

i was half-asleep this morning, just waking up, and someone sat on my bed. i felt the matress being pushed down a little (like someone was sitting) and i felt the blankets on top of me move a little. my sister and her kids are visiting with us this morning, so i thought it was my nephew coming to wake me up. so i opened my eyes and rolled over and got ready to tell him good morning... and no one was there. of course no one was there. because i'm HAUNTED. sigh.

neurotic? deffinately.

2004-11-17T10:07:00.000-08:00

okay.... people i don't know should not eat around me unless i, too, am eating. i feel very strongly about this. it irritates me to no end.... almost as bad as ramen noodle head, and we all know the kind of irrational anger SHE put into me.

i'm sitting in a computer lab on campus right now. it's silent, except for the typing of keyboards and the sound of the girl next to me eating a blueberry muffin. i do NOT want to listen to anyone chewing blueberries. call me crazy. call me neurotic. call me someone who is easily irritated by people i have no love for. you would pretty much be correct on all accounts. but come ON!! I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!

falls asleep on keyboard

2004-11-16T23:42:00.000-08:00

okay.... my schedule is tooootally messed up. i work until midnight four nights a week and then have to get up and go to class in the little hours. this... isn't... working. i can't go to sleep as soon as i get home. i'm usually far too wired. i'm tired... but i'm also sore and headachy and overstimulated. blaaaaaah.

speaking of which (by not speaking of it in the slightest), i am a complete moron. i now officially have a big ugly scar on the back of my left hand. it's from the whole salt+ice+pressure=ow experiment that we were doing in the back room at work a few weeks ago. it started out as a big welt, then looked a lot like a burn, then got all crusty, then peeled and left a scar behind. who's captain stupidpants? i am, i am! rock on. book smarts, i've got... but common sense is totally beyond me.

and speaking of book smarts (subject hopping much?) i've decided to stop doing my homework. not on purpose, mind you. my brain simply refuses to retain the information i need to remember to DO my homework. therefore, it just doesn't get done. this is not helping my schooling any. i swear, my teachers are going to think i'm "special." i'm going to have to start wearing a helmet.

HOP! i also need to go to the gym. i mean to. i told my mom to come wake me up this morning and tell me to go to the gym, but when she came in i convinced her that i couldn't go because i wouldn't have time to take a shower afterwards. okay. note to anyone who wakes me up: 1) you're lucky if i even know you're in my room when i first wake up. in fact... you're lucky if i'm even genuinely awake and not just talking in my sleep. 2) i can and will justify not leaving my bed with any means possible. 3) this does not mean that i don't actually need to get up. 4) i may sound completely awake and that i know what i'm saying, but i don't. i promise. even if you ask me the date and when my birthday is and everything and i answer correctly, i have no IDEA what i'm talking about. refer to #1. i really do want to get up and do what i need to do. you just need to remind me of that. 5) i need to be woken up at least 3 times in succession before i actually know what's going on. perhaps more. one gentle talking-to won't do it.

okay. last hop before i drag my sorry carcass into bed:......

yeah, i totally forgot what it was.

okay. goodnight. i-- *falls asleep on keyboard* dasfkl;j;sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss...

psa for romanian popstars

2004-11-14T21:43:00.000-08:00

okay... my musical eccentricities have completely spiraled out of control. i'm currently full-on rocking out to a romanian pop song. (Dragostea Sin Tei by O-Zone) This has got to be THE coolest freaking song i've ever heard. It's like... aural speed.

*resumes rocking out*

"heeeere mr. wonderfuuul..."

2004-11-07T20:53:00.000-08:00

okay, fine. i'll post again. TWIST MY ARM!

the past two weeks have been a total and complete nightmare. i'm back working at borders, (that's not the nightmare part, but we'll get to that later.) where i work approximately 25 hours or so weekly... always until midnight. i have early classes. my alarm totally has it out for me and outright REFUSES to work properly. i don't know how many times i've mysteriously slept past when i set it for. i also had oodles of midterms and even MORE oodles of papers due within the past fortnight, but heaven forBID i even START preparing for aforementioned test/paper before 1:30 am on the day it's due. it's madness. i've reached a brief lull in the school work, though. *deep soothing breath*

like i said... i'm back at borders. i work back in the cafe now, so that's fun. it really is. it's completely different from being out on the floor and the change is rather welcome. of course, i have to deal with coffee addicts ("i'll have a large italian roast." "i'm sorry. we just ran out. we're brewing a fresh pot as we speak, though." *customer suddenly resembles the incredible hulk* "i need it NOOOOOOW!"), all the byu students who order steamers (which are the BANE OF MY EXISTENCE!), hot chocolate, and french sodas, and all the people who order things without espresso ("i'll have a mocha without the coffee." "a hot chocolate?" *like i'm some sort of handicapped person* "no. a MOCHA without the COFFEE!" *thinking to myself* "actually, it's not coffee anyway, it's espresso. and a mocha without the espresso is hot chocolate, but if you want to pay a dollar more for your hot chocolate, so be it, ."), not to mention those same people who came into borders when i was on the floor and expected me to follow them around carrying their books for them. same type of people-- only now they expect their soy low-carb vanilla chai (heated to exactly 135 degrees) immediately, despite the fact that i also have 5 other drinks to make for people i like a whole lot better than i like them.

on the brighter side of work... i'm now fully integrated back into the dysfunctional family that is Provo Borders. after working at ICT, coming back to borders was like coming home. i was welcomed with open arms and am working with people who i absolutely adore. sure, it's stressful, but when i leave work, work stays at work. it's an amazing concept. i get to be loud and obnoxious and unprofessional and vaguely cracked-out all the time, which is the way it should be. plus i reportedly make EXCELLENT foam and pull really good espresso shots. go me!

okay... now to get to the title of the post. "heeeere mr. wonderfuuul...." menfolk frustrate me. they really do. two menfolk in particular that are a part of the dysfunctional borders family. IF you are 1) married b)engaged 3) dating someone seriously or lastly) biblically canoodling with someone... DO not flirt with girls! just don't! keep your hands to yourself and do everything possible to make yourself as unattractive as you can. it's your civic duty! doing otherwise is confusing and frustrating (as enjoyable as backscratches and impromptu hugs may be) and only causes brenda wrath. i was talking to my sister jen about such frustration and she asked if i needed her to smack some sense into anyone in particular. i told her to go after mr. wonderful, who hasn't shown up yet. (i'm WAITING!) so we were talking about setting traps and trying to lure mr. wonderful out of hiding. it was funny at the time, i promise.

well... there you have my rediculously long entry. i'm not sure if it makes sense, but i'm a bit past caring. just a bit, though.

MWAH!

ungrateful so and sos...

2004-10-22T08:12:00.000-07:00

i got fired. yes, that's right. "terminated" was actually the phrase that my boss used. like a bug. now, granted... i hated my job. HATED it. but i would have preferred to go out on my own terms, you know? kind of an "i don't need you" instead of a "you don't need me." but the stupid thing is, they DO need me. i don't think they realize how much they need me. my co-worker (not jen, the other one) is a great girl and i love her to death, but she doesn't function well without me. now it's just going to be her on saturdays doing the intakes, checking group rolls, letting people know about the money they owe, and having to deal with heidi and franni BOTH calling out and no one left to do the dv workshop. HA! how do you like THEM apples, randy? HUH??

not that i'm bitter. (oh wait... yes i am.) they can have a good time floundering about without me. i only feel sorry for kim and jen. the rest of them can bite me. with relish.

i'm going through phases as to how i'm feeling. jen referred to them as the stages of grief, but i hesitate to admit that i'm grieving over a job that was sapping away my will to live. it's back to the idea that they don't need me. i feel like a big giant worthless piece of poo. i also feel guilty for having left kim and jen there alone. and angry. and less then hopeful about my future. and then i'm just generally okay with it. i went back to Borders with my tail tucked between my legs and begged for seasonal work. i have an interview today. the chances of me getting the job are fairly good, since 1) i already worked there and 2) laurie is doing the hiring and i've read her palm-- so i'm fairly sure she'll fear some sort of voodoo curse if she doesn't hire me. not that i'm into voodoo. cough.

last night i consoled myself by building a nest out of pillows and blankets and watching sliding doors. i swear, that movie should be handed out as a prescription to solve all a woman's woes. it works for me, anyway.

i've ruthlessly promoted my dear friend colby stead ( http://colbystead.com ) many times already, but here's another one: i e-mailed colby about my job sittuation. he, being the gem he is, e-mailed me back. "i can only imagine how expendable you must feel. brenda, you are far from expendable. be it an email, a donation, a request, a sunburn....or just your smiling face, you are always noticed and loved. entirely." dah. let's prescribe colby along with sliding doors. he has a show saturday night. please look at his website (under "shows") for more information. please, PLEASE come support this guy. i swear... you will love him.

so that's all for now. cheers.

my epiphany-- Por "T"

2004-10-16T11:07:00.000-07:00

i had an epiphany yesterday. it was due largely in part to an assignment for my english 314 class in which i explicated robert frost's "the road not taken." most everyone looks at "the road not taken" as a poem of inspiration to take the other path-- to break out of the norm and "take the high road" as it were. i, being the surly cuss i am, decided to take a completely different point of view. i decided to show how it is a poem filled with regret. the voice of the poem regrets not having chosen the worn path and having missed out on everything it could have given him. it was a pretty good paper.

and it got me thinking.

i've done some stupid things in my life just for the sake of doing them. i'm young and in my mind that gave me the right to do irresponsible things-- not because everyone else was doing them, but because i was curious. i thought of it as my only chance to get all of my wildness out of my system and "experience life" before i settled back down.

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

some time in the past few years i found myself standing at a fork in the path of my life. there was the beaten path that i knew i was expected to go on and there was the curiously alluring second path. they both looked the same, basically. there were no thorny hedges or wild beasts prowling the less-traveled path. it looked just as calm and just as... good.

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

so i took it, telling myself i'd go back and take the other after i'd satisfied my curiosity.

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

knowing how way leads on to way... it's like a chain reaction. you make one decision, which slides you into another and another, until you want to go back and start over but it's too late. you can't even remember where the other path was.

i look at some of my wilder friends-- they're reaching 30 and they're still doing the same things they were when they were my age. they're stagnant. they did a lot of stupid stuff and lived life in the fast lane and at 30, when they should be starting families and setting down roots and making their mark on the world, they're still renting crappy apartments where they pretend to party their stagnation away on the weekends. or weeknights. they're not doing anything really. I don't want to be like that. I want a husband who is strong and steady and good, and who loves me because I'm strong and steady and good. I want children. I want to be a good mother. I want roots.

sure, both paths started out looking the same. eventually, though, one leads into a burnt, ashy wasteland and the other leads to a quiet, grassy clearing with tiny yellow flowers and a warm sun.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

i can still see where the other path started. i haven't completely lost my way yet. i choose the sun.

note from a rotisserie

2004-10-06T08:11:00.000-07:00

okay, so i totally live in the Learning Resource Center (hereafter referred to as the LRC) of the byu library. these things happen when one has a rediculously long break between classes every day. le sigh. usually, my haven is fairly cool. however, today they apparently have the heat up to approximately 300 degrees, give or take a degree. i think it's illegal to be cooked without being informed first.

i spent the weekend at my sister's house. of course. it was GLORIOUSLY uneventful. we just sat around and read and played CoH and talked and giggled and ate 2/3 of a box of count chocula. did you know count chocula has beet powder in it? mmmm. beet powder. and those little nuggets of sugar in there SO aren't marshmallows, but whatever they are, i love them. whoever invented them should be cannonized, along with the earl of sandwich.

my back itches. good heavens. it's stopped peeling, but now it's just really really itchy. i want to go up to strangers and ask them to scratch it for me. i would offer them money for it, but i have none. shoes, perhaps? i have a lot of those. "i'll give you a pair of embroidered silk flip flops if you scratch my back." why do i even have embroidered silk flip flops? why do i have 7 PAIRS of flip flops?! THIS IS WHY I HAVE NO MONEY!! i need a pair of orange ones, though. they would go cute with my army-green sweater. hmm.

okay. must focus now and right a journal entry for english 314. blaaaaaah. noooo quierooooo. alas. such is the life of a "good student." (which is in quotations because i skipped two classes yesterday. heh.)

sincerely &tc,
Snappy

DUUUUUUUDE!!!!

2004-09-27T18:26:00.000-07:00

okay, this sunburn ordeal is getting rediculous. my forehead is peeling, so i look like some leperous dandruff-faced girl, and my back is seriously PURPLE and all bumpy and some of the bumps are turning into blisters. no one will ever love me now. i will die cold and alone, save for some over-affectionate cats who will smother me to death by laying on my face and refusing to move.

i also have two tests tomorrow that i have not so much as cracked a book for. blaaar. BLAAAAR, i tell you!! i am henceforth boycotting, school, work, and most forms of clothing. WHO'S WITH ME?! (weeee shaaaall oooover-coooooooome...)

the x96 big "booty" show

2004-09-27T08:05:00.000-07:00

ooooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuuch. i have never been so sunburned in my life. my family was talking about how they were going to put rubberbands around my "claws" and put me in the bathtub, i'm so red. OOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUCH!! i spent most of last night googling sunburn remedies. most of them called for aloe vera, which i didn't really have, so i hunted for other options. vinegar, oatmeal, and tea. okay... option 1: vinegar. this would leave me smelling something like an easter egg and i didn't have apple cider vinegar, only white vinegar. would they be the same? option 2: oatmeal. this called for actually leaving a "film of oatmeal" on your skin. this would make me look something like a leper. option 3: tea. this seemed all well and good, except they wanted REAL tea, which contains tannin, which would be the healing agent. all i had was Sleepytime Tea, which is herbal. so what did i do? i drew a lukewarm bath and dumped all three in.

baaaaaaad idea.

i'm burned on the upper half of my body-- mainly my shoulders, upper arms, and back-- so i would have had to laid down in the bath to really get anything done. did i SERIOUSLY want oatmeal, tea, and vinegar in my hair? not really. so the bath didn't do a whole lot except kind of gross me out because i was sitting in oatmeal. then came time to DRAIN the bath. now... i'm no plumber, but i don't think oatmeal and tea are good for plumbing. so i hunted down a strainer and took it into the bathroomand held it over the drain while i let the water out. i did catch quite a bit of oatmeal, but i think i'm emotionally scarred. it was so gross. it was beyond gross. it was like... super-ultra-ubergross. i don't want to talk about it anymore.

i took a shower this morning (because i'm a bit of a clean freak... plus i smelled like vinegar) and wanted to cry afterwards. it was like hailstones were pelting me. so painful. and then i had to get dressed-- equally painful. if i didn't have to, i would so not be wearing clothes right now. plus i think i still smell like vinegar. i'm not sure, but i don't want to go up to someone and say "so... do i still smell like an easter egg? yes? no?" basically, i feel like i've been rubbed with sandpaper over and over again and i hurt so bad i want to punch someone in the face.

it was so worth it.

rashelle and i got to the utah state fair park (where we were going to see the x96 big *** show, in case you didn't read the subject) at 8:30 so as to avoid the enormous line. we were some of the first to be let in. hurray for not having to wait in line! we milled about for a bit and discovered that the first band (who we had never heard of) would be starting at noon on the car concepts stage. so we ambled over in that direction and got a really good spot and waited.

sweet... mother. they were amazing. aMAZing. The Brobecks. you should love them. right now. DO it. they're local-- from salt lake-- and their music is like... the bastard child of buddy holly, cake, aerosmith and... and... i don't know. other stuff. they're so awesome. go to http://brobecks.com and love them.

next we saw snow patrol (purrrrrrr), for whom we were also right up front. they rocked the casbah. we also saw lost prophets from afar and meant to go see goldfinger, but we came across the merch tent for The Brobecks and got so flustered that we had to take some time to pull ourselves together so we could buy a CD. then we saw story of the year and got crushed in the Sum 41 mosh pit. then we came home, showered, (because we both smelled like gross, nasty, sweaty people), and went to a colby concert, where colby played a song especially for me. :)

it was a painful, exhausting, and very... VERY good day.

now if you'll excuse me... i have to go shuffle awkwardly to class and try not to throw my bookbag at someone.

the institute

2004-09-16T16:07:00.000-07:00

i've been here for half an hour and i'm already wanting to go. i wanted to go when i stepped through the heavy wood doors and found out my sister wasn't here anymore. i think she's the only reason i stick around. everyone else makes me angry.

i can smell the chemicals from the bathroom. they're mingling with the cigarette smell of the clients who will quit after this pack runs out. or the next. it's making my already angry stomach churn.

i can smell the cologne of the cleaning boy and his drug addict peers who are all trying to manipulate me.

"do you like bob dylan?"
"yes... you're not supposed to be talking."
"i like him, too."

the smell reminds me of when i was their age. i probably would have had a crush on them back then. now i see them and all of their problems and it makes me angry. how could they throw their lives away? mike was like that. he was pretty and manipulative and he smelled good. in the end, it was heroin that took him away. he died. don't they know mike died?

i thought everyone knew.

i have a lot to do to night, at work and after-- three charts to build, a treatment plan, whatever else She tells me to do. after i get home i have some chaucer to memorize and a project do do for film.

there's one client who always wears the same green shirt. does he have a lot of identical green shirts he cycles through? is it like the simpsons, where he opens his closet and it's just a row of green polo shirts and jeans?

"the hunter or the forest today?"

i contemplate on this while i rock in my chair, having to go to the bathroom so bad "my teeth are swimming." chelsey said that once. i thought it was gross. i love her, though. i don't want to go to the bathroom. in the dorms it took twelve steps to get to the bathroom from my chair. twelve steps. but first you had to admit you had a problem.

ironic.

urglesnazzlefraz. yes... that's right. YOU heard me.

2004-09-16T13:33:00.000-07:00

my arm is going numb because i've been sitting in the computer lab for the past... *looks at watch* one bazillion years reading other people's blogs. it has come to my attention how totally untalented i am compared to many other people who are posting blogs and how there are probably about six people that actually read mine. and yet i keep on proverbially "keepin' on."

i have a four-hour gap between classes on thursdays. even though school started at the end of august, this is the first week i've actually been on campus for all of those 4 hours. the first week of school there was a very unfortunate incident that involved me going down on my knees on the floor in the library and wanting to crawl into a little hole and die. i think i had food poisoning. last week i went out to lunch with kelly and ended up sprawled on the floor at her apartment trying to pretend i didn't have to go to class. so here i am... probably leaving a permanent impression on this chair... reading other people's journals.

there's something deliciously naughty about reading the blogs of people i don't know for some reason. it's something like reading a note that someone dropped or sneaking a look in a diary that's left on a counter somewhere. i just found out that this one girl who is dating a guy named ed is trying to figure out whether she should live in a minimalist apartment and be professional or fill her apartment full of useless crap. there was another guy who imagines his life with a soundtrack by "Survivor" (who brought us The Eye of the Tiger) and described himself in the past as having weighed "slightly less than a Fiat." Then there was another guy who thinks The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly is the greatest movie ever and posts the most amusing "male enhancement spam" of the day in his blog. they were pretty darn amusing.

isn't it funny how we write things down and shoot them off into cyberspace like people will care? and the funny thing is... people DO care. i hope that girl's relationship with ed works out. i have the eye of the tiger going through my head like it's nobody's business, and i'm still giggling over the "male enhancement spam."

i don't know. it's just a funny thought to me. i'm part of it now... part of the "look at me" mentality of wanting someone in Baton Rouge giggle at something i wrote. it's fun. it's therapeutic. and i'm obviously in good company.

ubergrouchy

2004-09-16T11:16:00.000-07:00

i'm feeling jaded and moody and this song is stuck in my head. i suppose it's pretty suitable...

coin operated boy
sitting on the shelf he is just a toy
but i turn him on and he comes to life
automatic joy
that is why i want a coin operated boy

made of plastic and elastic
he is rugged and long-lasting
who could ever ever ask for more
love without complications galore
many shapes and weights to choose from
i will never leave my bedroom
i will never cry at night again
wrap my arms around him and pretend....

coin operated boy
all the other real ones that i destroy
cannot hold a candle to my new boy and i'll
never let him go and i'll never be alone
not with my coin operated boy......

this bridge was written to make you feel smittener
with my sad picture of girl getting bitterer
can you extract me from my plastic fantasy
i didnt think so but im still convinceable
will you persist even after i bet you
a billion dollars that i'll never love you
will you persist even after i kiss you
goodbye for the last time
will you keep on trying to prove it?
i'm dying to lose it...
i want it
i want you
i want a coin operated boy.

and if i had a star to wish on
for my life i cant imagine
any flesh and blood could be his match
i can even take him in the bath

coin operated boy
he may not be real experienced with girls
but i know he feels like a boy should feel
isnt that the point that is why i want a
coin operated boy
with his pretty coin operated voice
saying that he loves me that hes thinking of me
straight and to the point
that is why i want
a coin operated boy.

-- "coin operated boy" by the dresden dolls

good time charlie

2004-09-15T15:44:00.000-07:00

there is an abandoned pizza parlor across from the byu dorms called "good time charlie." now... doesn't that sound like it was thought up by someone not native to this country? "i have pizza parlor. i caaall... good time charlie!" (there was another place with the same Unnatural Name Malady that my brother told me about-- the three happiness restauraunt) i personally find this hillarious. therefore, the phrase "good time" will henceforth forever be followed by "charlie" in my idiolect. my sister has picked this up as well. it's now extended to "best time charlie," "bad time charlie," and "worst time charlie." makes sense to me.

on a completely unrelated topic-- scooters* are NOT CARS. i can not stress this enough. not cars. NOT CARS. and no matter how much the students of happy valley want to pretend that they are cars... they never will be. therefore, if one were to, say... go down university parkway on that curve that leads from orem into provo... drivers in Real Cars MIGHT get irritated by the little buzzing "Motorized Vehicle" that is in front of them going 25mph. hypothetically. even though scooters are NOT CARS, if one insists on "driving" among cars, may i encourage them to participate in a few safety procedures:

1) wear a fleaking helmet! for crying out loud! YOU may only be going 25mph, but the cars who are furiously trying to pass you are going upwards of 40 and are so busy flipping you off that they may accidentally swerve and hit you. also... 25mph is pretty fast when your head is flying toward the blacktop.

2) if you are a boy... and you're riding on a scooter/other extremely obnoxious slow-moving non car with another boy... please be secure enough in your masculinity to hold on to him. as far as control goes, holding on to the seat that you're sitting on isn't going to do squat. no one is going to think you're gay and people PROBABLY aren't going to stare or take pictures. if you DON'T hold on, on the other hand, they're more likely to stare and take pictures when you're laying on the ground on top of your own leg. alright? alright.

sincerely, and with fervor,
me.

*by scooters, i mean the little motorbike type things, not the 80's-esque razor scooters

stuff... sometimes.

2004-09-13T07:29:00.000-07:00

this past saturday i went to yet another fabulous colby concert. (colbystead.com-- go there. go NOW!! the blenna demands it!) Chelseybum, Shell, Nikki, Erin, and Milla came along. i do hope they enjoyed it. this is Chelsey's third and Erin and Milla's second, so at least they keep coming. this is a good sign. i shall soon convert the wooooorld! *lightning strike and evil laugh*

i spent sunday up at jen's apartment-- which i lovingly refer to as walden pond. it's just my little place to get away from it all and chill out. i used to go there to get free of distractions so that i could study or do homework, but then jen got the computer game city of heroes and effectively got rid of the distraction-free environment. that game is the coolest EVER. it's an online multi-player thinggie where you get to design your own super hero-- the look, the powers, the name-- and go rid this fictional city of zombies, nazis, punks, robots, and other unfriendly critters. oh my gosh. i love it. i LOVE it. i, of course, get super-duper distracted by the creation process and make about a bazillion new heroes every time i try to play, but it's soooo much fun. my personal favorite right now is shelly buckman (oh yes... i also have a madison fury, fran sputnick, and jack major, for those of you who are familiar with the road not taken), who is a pink-sunglassed fashonista with an obscenely large machine gun. yes, i am a nerd. you wanna bring it?

i'm completely drowning in a sea of homework right now. which is why i'm doing a blog entry instead of doing homework. heaven forbid i actually do something productive. i just don't want to be in school any more. i realized the other day that i'm going to be in school for approximately one BILLION years. i still probably have a good year and a half left of class-going, which will be interrupted for a semester beginning in december when i move to idaho to take care of heather and her family while she gets ready to have Monkey Bean (that's what i've named her baby). it will also more than likely be interrupted for another year and a half by that m word, which is something that i'm considering more and more. it kinda snuck up on me in a weird way. do you realize that i will be 21 in a little over 6 months? crimeney. time flies.

righto. time to write a paper for my film class. sigh. is there no rest for the english major?

mmmm... sandwich.

2004-09-08T17:33:00.000-07:00

i have decided that many of the world's problems could be solved by a really good sandwich. god bless that earl of sandwich. he was a GENIOUS!

labor day

2004-09-07T09:29:00.000-07:00

i just got back late last night from having spent labor day weekend with my sister heather and her family. my goodness. imagine, if you will, five adults (including a pregnant woman), three highly active children aged 4, 7, and 8, and a pregnant cat all holed up in one wee little house with one wee little bathroom for three days.

lots of love. lots of love.

seriously, though, i did have a good time. i went up there with my siblings jennifer and eric. we had a grand old time on the way up. i refused to let anyone else drive for over half of the trip and it was eric's job to keep me awake, which he did rather well. he's a talkative guy, that brother of mine. jen slept for a bit. she didn't feel very good. we had to stop in tremonton for, like, an hour and a half, and camped out in a rather filthy wendy's. i swear, the people working there must have thought we were completely insane. i stood in the bathroom for a good 10 minutes singing "there was an old lady who swallowed a fly," but i couldn't figure out what came after the spider, so i quizzed everyone who came in. there was also a rather amusing incident with a clump of grass just outside sublett... but it's really not my place to further elaborate. ahem.

we arrived at heather's house at about 12:30am and promptly went to sleep. i was awakened the next morning by someone tripping over me, which woke me up every other morning as well, since i was sprawled in the opening between the kitchen and the living room. i had a weird case of some sort of plague that day. my skin hurt... which has never happened to me before..., my muscles hurt, i felt exhausted, and i really think i had a bit of a fever. the next day, i felt fine, though. we watched hidalgo at some point. i really enjoyed it. we also made quiche, which was a bit too spinachy but still tasty. we went to the zoo on monday. it was fun. i adore the zoo. i've decided that, were i ever to become a pirate, i would want a tamarin to sit on my shoulder instead of a parrot or one of those darn spider monkeys. (http://www.zooschool.ecsd.net/cotton%20topped%20tamarin.htm) i mean... how cute it THAT?? pretty darn cute, i'll tell you. other highlights from the zoo included the tortoise, the fruit bats, the penguins, the camel, and the big cats. the only thing i really didn't enjoy was the tank full of stick bugs, which i caught a brief glimpse of before i freaked out and cowered by the ferrets for a while. i hate stick bugs. seriously. they're worse than snakes. *shudder*

the drive back was fairly uneventful. i sat in the back and dozed for a while while i should have been doing my homework. good times.

anyway... i'm back, safe and sound. i hope you all had a glorious labor day. ciao!

contemplations from the HFAC*

2004-09-03T15:27:00.000-07:00

if i were a painter
i would paint with oils.
with vibrant blues and yellows
purples and reds
greens
blacks
and all of the would be alight.
glossy.

if i were a photographer
i would work
in black and white--
perhaps with a touch of color
on a woman's lips
the tips of a rose
the eyes of a cat.
i would capture real life--
laundry.
dishes.
putting gas in the car.

if i were an actor
i would do intense,
heartbreaking tragedy.
but i would make them laugh
with the same honesty.
i would be understated.
real.
i would act for myself
as much as for the crowd.

but i am a poet.
a writer.
and i work in blue crystal bics
and notebook paper.
i capture real life
like a journal.
heartbreaking tragedy.
honest comedy.
in thoughts of blues and yellows
purples and reds
greens
blacks.

it's still for myself
as much as it's for the crowd.

*the HFAC is byu's fine arts center

i never really said goodbye.

2004-09-01T21:29:00.000-07:00

so... i was looking at chelsey's blog ( http://girl_friday.blogspot.com ) and i was reading along... giggling here and there... and then i looked at the archives. i couldn't help it. i clicked on may 2004.

and my heart broke again.

i haven't cried over mike since my miniature nervous breakdown at the beginning of june. at least... i haven't admitted that i was crying over him. but he's like a wound that won't quite close. i can talk about it when people ask and i don't cry. i don't even feel much about it anymore. but when i hear a song... when i see a movie... when i go into ihop... when i see someone wearing orange... when i drive past AF cemetary and think of falling out of trees and fogging up windows... he suddenly springs into my mind with that stupid laugh of his. sometimes i smile, sometimes i wilt.

my love for mike (because that was the name of the one i loved... not jackson or jax) is something that will stay with me forever. he will always be a part of me, and part of me will always be missing without him. this is something i wrote years and years ago. i blame my poetic heart. but it's our story. my story for him. and i miss him like candy.

"I have loved you since the moment my eyes first fell on you. You met my gaze in greeting for a moment or two, then looked away again, forgetting me. And I waited, faithfully, for you to notice me again—for my turn at last.

"I wasn’t blind to your beauty. To the contrary; I worshipped it. Not in the way that other women did. I did not swoon in your wake, but rather, I fell to my knees in solitude and tanked the All Mighty that he had allowed one of his angels to walk among us… and that that angel was my brother. Not by blood perhaps, but by that very organ that banishes blood to the outmost reaches of the flesh, then draws it close again. Brother by heart.

"And when the time came that you turned to me and opened your hand to beg my company, my heart sang. For I knew that you had finally seen what I had known all along. We needed each other. And now here we are, brother and sister, heaven and earth… and I love you still..."

when lettuce attacks

2004-09-01T15:12:00.000-07:00

so i threw a piece of lettuce at someone yesterday. no, really. i did.

as you probably know, i'm a student at a little institution called "Brigham Young University." (i would like to add that yes, i am there by choice and no, i don't absolutely hate it there.) BYU and i generally get along just fine. it leaves me alone, i leave it alone, i learn, i move on. sometimes i even make friends. but i haven't actually gone to school during a normal semester since december, and somehow... SOMEHOW... i've forgotten how truly irritating normal semesters can be.

now... let me explain the lettuce:there are way... WAY to many happy couples on campus. i'm sure that most of these couples met over the summer or something and are already engaged or married, since that's the way BYU goes. (the sky's blue, etc...) they make me cranky-- not because i'm alone and bitter, but because they're ALL THE SAME and are SO IN LOVE and so... loud and open about their love for each other. it's hard to explain. but they're irritating. trust me.

now... something else that bugs me is lettuce. i can't stand it. i enjoy greens (spinach, for instance), but romaine and iceberg lettuces are a complete waste of good ground in my opinion. earlier i had gotten a sandwich-- which was a very tasty, if overpriced, sandwich, once i had taken the lettuce off. i was sitting on a bench with no trashcan nearby, so my lettuce was just sitting there next to me, being... you know... lettucey. as i was enjoying my sandwich and reading some of my homework, a particularly obnoxious Happy Couple walked by. the girl was wearing platform flip flops, (which is another matter entirely) and was talking very loudly about how much she loves the guy she's with and how much she loves everyone and blah blah blah loudness blah.

so i threw my lettuce at her while she was walking away.

it hit her on the back of the leg, but by the time she looked behind her i was reading again, looking completely innocent. i'm sure my mother taught me somewhere along the line that it's not nice to throw food, but i just snapped. it was either throw the lettuce or burst into angry rageful flames and consume everyone nearby. i opted for the lettuce. i did it for the goodness of mankind, i tell you. the goodness of mankind.

clear

2004-08-30T20:53:00.000-07:00

i wrote this back in march. it's dedicated to chelsey and stacy and tiffa and those people who loved me once upon a time and found me again somehow. just thought i'd be sentimental for a moment.

It died.
Note the hour:
When I became the other me.
The one I never liked that much
But for some reason

Always wanted
To come out and play.

She was born
Years ago
And kept in a closet,
Anemic and weak
Until the night he broke my heart

And she came out to play.

She’s stuck around
For longer than she should have
Fed by good company
And what I thought I wanted.

I thought I wanted to forget.
And change.
And not be what they want me to be.

But sometimes…

I realize that what they want me to be
Is what I want to be.

Laughing.
Happy.
“Fat with love.”

They found me again.
Those people who loved me then.
They make me want to be me.

Brenda.

That person who was confused
And curious
But smart
And good
And everything she should have been.
That person who made people laugh
And made people comfortable
Because she knew what was up.
That person who was real, deep down.

That person whose muse was always there.
Ready to whisper.

But that muse died.
Note the time.

I won’t let it go.

to hear myself type.

2004-08-30T18:29:00.000-07:00

so there i was at work, not working, checking my old e-mail accounts that i never check anymore, when lo and behold... i got an e-mail from my chelseybum. (hey baby girl... how you livin'?) so i look at this e-mail and there's this blog and so i go and it's like... amazing (the blog) and i love her (chelsey) forever (no really). and then the gerbil and wheel that have replaced my brain start moving... slowly. (it's a very fat, asthmatic gerbil.) slowly... slowly... an idea forms. maybe *i* could write a blog. SHOCKING!!

as if i needed yet another arena to pollute with my snarkiness.

so here it is... my first posting. it's not fantastic, but the floor still needs to be vacuumed. so, for better or for worse... i'm taking this rickety little blog sloop and shoving off in the sea of cyberspace.

it's your own fault for looking.