Crazy Old Men

They are everywhere!

It's true my friends: my day has been full of wacky sexagenarians. Some may have been septuagenarians--I didn't ask. I think that it is interesting that septuagenarians has a "u" in it. I would have spelled it otherwise.

First, there was the dermatologist. He can solve my acne problems all right: "decapitation works every time." He decided to not give me the medication that "makes you feel like h-e-double hockey sticks." I am most grateful to him. Apparently I inherited my acne from my Uncle Max (odd--I don't have one...) because it is most definitely not my Dad's fault. He (the doctor--not my dad) has taken some amazing photos though. He says he takes about a million and throws all but the really good ones away so we'll think he's actually good...hmm.

Second was the watch fixer. He had a white beard and big bushy white eybrows. He didn't have a unibrow--just one really long grey hair in between them. I was nearly overcome by the temptation to pull...luckily I resisted. Phew. He wouldn't fix my watch because it wasn't worth it. It's okay, because I don't mind trying to peer through the scratches. I can still tell what time it is--it just takes me a few seconds. Don't worry though. I now have my very own lucky wooden nickel. "Just rub it a little."

Third was the pharmacist. He began giving Mom a mock lecture about "sometimes you need to let kids go." She was signing for my prescription because I was off looking for the makeup the dermatologist recommended. I didn't mind her signing for me... He wanted to know if we had relatives in South Jordan. "They had a hard time letting their kids go too. I figured there was a connection." He was probably trying to help me out--he saw the acne medication and figured I was only about 16...most people don't break out worse once they hit 20. I tell you what.

I think that I want to keep my sense of humor in my later years. I'm pretty sure i want to marry a man who has held on to his as well. I'm not sure if I want him to be that wacky all of the time. I can't wait to have people look at me a little bit funny when I act a bit eccentrically...Oh the joy! Anyway, those are my deep thoughts for the day. Smile everyone, and be glad that we have lots of adventures ahead of us!

Merging Worlds

Wow.

This change has left me a little discombobulated, but whatever doesn't kill us makes us stronger, yes? I hardly think my family will kill me, and I could use a little extra strength in my life. =P

I can't wait to watch re-runs from my life after it is over. My life has been extremely comedic of late, and I want you guys to see it!

First off, leaving the Villa was hard--on so many levels! First I locked my keys in the car--ha ha--both sets! kudos to Annie for getting them both out at once (Jonharmon, you're lucky that funshine bear fit through that window!) with the stick from our blinds--it's a good thing it broke off, eh? And Maria-the-cleaning-check-lady never came. Then when I left, I hit every light on the way home (okay, so maybe just almost every light!) and when I finally reached my home, the seatbelt would not come off. It reminded me of a funny moment on a date when the seatbelt was broken and my date had to lean over and extract me from it (I didn't buckle up after that--how awkward!) but this time I had no knight-in-shining armor to rescue me. I couldn't figure out if I wanted to laugh out loud or throw my hands in the air, put my seat back, and go to sleep until my family found me. Eventually I was able to get myself out and start unloading the last of my stuff. Or, rather, the almost-last of my stuff. I still need to go and get the rest fo my food from Maria's fridge. Yay!

Leaving was emotionally rough too--Maria, I miss you already! What am I going to do when I need pot-o cake or a back rub, or someone to laugh and roll her eyes at me? that's it, I'm coming to visit! And Meagan and Annie, we all four of us had better play hard, because I miss the crazy rolling-on-the-floor-singing-about...stuff while we played phase ten, and you coming home with a man-catcher, and dishes doing parties and sleepovers in the living room and eating on the balcony and watching a gazillion movies. We need to get together and do another reminiscing session like last Sunday--only this time we need to write it all down! And for everyone else from the Villa, I want to play with you too! Just because we can't jump out of our doors and play doesn't mean that we can't still do it!

So now I'm an integral part of my family once more. Please don't get me wrong, because I love them dearly. All of a sudden, though, when there's no escape and my experience with them is much more permanent,they are a little daunting. And I have discovered I am a little protective of my stuff. Zach just got a new Nintendo (don't ask me what kind--I have no idea) and now he wants to use my awesome computer to play his games. It's Mine, Dangit! whew... that felt good. My world is in disarray. There are clothes books, shoes, and hundreds of miscellaneous items all over my bed, my room, and my house. I don't know where anything is. I can't go into my room to have any alone time, because I don't fit in there! And I lost my voice and gave myself a tremenjous headache at the volleyball game--and they lost by two points at the last second. And Michael Burke re-dislocated his shoulder. Bummer.

And today in church, I was allergic to the lady sitting next to me. I was sneezing and sneezing and sneezing some more. I had to leave. But I made the coolest noise during the opening prayer when I was trying not to sneeze! Ha ha ha! Oh. Sorry. "That's not appropriate for church!"

But the apple trees are in blossom and the big black cloud of doom/happiness has engulfed our way. Julia pretty much wants to do whatever I do, and Zach loves to hang out with me. I am eating Mom food from and almost exaustible fridge, there is a motorized treadmill in my basement in front of our TV and cupboards full of excellent movies. I have my own room with an amazing bed (even if my back is getting used to a normal one--I kind of miss my swamp). And my family loves me, after all. It's going to be okay--change is just hard. I think I'm going to go and watch Boyz N' the Sink's new song: Bellybutton. Yay for Veggietales!

Sorry it's so long.

True Friendship

One time, I asked Meagan if she would still be my friend when my eyes were all red and my face was broken out and my hair was all a-mess and my pants were a little too tight and I was wearing a bright green shirt with pink writing that made all of those problems worse...

Guess what? She said yes! And even though we pretended to sniff and be emotional, I was touched. I've been so extra blessed this year! I have kept up with some really great old friends, and found some equally great new ones. Thanks for all of you who have stuck with me through thick and thin.

*Sorry for waxing sentimental on y'all...but it's still true. I love you guys!

A Blog On Being Drunk

It's not everyone that can drown their sorrows in creme soda. I consider myself on of the very lucky few. As finals loom ever nearer, I may take to the bottle more and more.

But really, today I was driving with my Mother, who has taken to counting cop cars and driving at least two miles under the speed limit. Yes, traffic school is a beautiful thing. But this time, she didn't need to worry, because the driver in front of us was going even slower than she, and were apparently drunk. While pondering on this, I became glad that I don't need to struggle with that vice, although I certainly have some of my own.

Alcohol is not one of them, however. Who needs it, when you can have an almost-rollicking-good-time with a bottle of cream soda and roommates that will sing "Just the Way You Look, Tonight" into spatulas with you? Hang Loose. And I still love the palm tree, even though it attacks me whenever I walk by.

And Then "It" Happened!

Yes--the proverbial "it". It happened to my hair one day. I decided it would be fun to try something new (famous last words...phrase?...famous last something). I...oh, I hate to admit this...I parted my hair...on the other side!!! It was weird. I did not get along with it, and it did not get along with me. And no one even noticed (which I didn't realize until Annie said something about not noticing...)! Luckily, the next day, I parted it in it's normal, happy place.

Alas, it has not yet recovered! the short layers are still all over the place, and my hair no longer knows whether to lay right or left. It compromises with lying straight up or down in my face. Besides this, my souvenir of the time I volunteered at Sharon Elementary last semester, or rather, one of the little scamps' souvenir of me (millions of quotes from movies that Jon Harmon has never seen would be appropriate here, such as, "Oh Jo, your one beauty!" or my personal favorite, "but I don't have any black dresses!") is also having problems...and it's not even a part of my part!

One may be tempted to blame it on excessive winds experienced in the region round about...

But I know better.

Sometimes I Wonder...

Do the clowns get tired
At the end of the day,
When the makeup is smeared
But the crowds still stay?

They live their whole lives
In the bright flashy light.
Do they tire of the show,
Want to curl up real' tight?

Is it really allowed?
Can they wipe off their smile?
'Cuz the crowd wants to laugh
and relax for a while.

After all, it's their job:
Entertain and amuse.
They can't cower and hide
In their over-large shoes.

They do what they love,
And they love what they do.
But when they're stretched thin,
The crowd peering right through,

Is the laughter's slight sting
Inexplicably fierce?
And do rare salty drops
Wash away painted tears?

Still, they'll rally again
For tomorrow's new fun.
The tears overcome--
That hard day is done!