Wishing I Lived in a Different City than Ben

Driving home today, I saw what looked like a cute guy on my street. I was gawking at him when I realized it was my brother Ben. After I threw up in my mouth I pulled over and yelled at him for looking like a normal boy.

Student Life

I’ve been hesitant to blog about going back to school. Perhaps I’m embarrassed I never took my education seriously in the past. Whatever the reason, I’m going to have to get over it, and quick. The awesome fodder is totally worth it!

Did you know its okay to make out in class now? Maybe it always was, and I just didn’t attend enough to notice. In one of my classes there's a couple who sit in the back and give each other back rubs the entire class period. And no, I am not attending BYU. By the end of the first week the back rubs had moved into kissing. I cannot wait to see what they're up to by the end of the semester. In class conception?

Them's the Breaks--column 8.30.07

To read this week's column for In Utah This Week click here. It's further proof there's "NO GOOD MUSIC!" That one's for you Jen.

Single & Stalking

A friend and I were discussing relationships last night over drinks. The previous woman he'd been dating wasn't exactly monogamous. Now that he's back on the prowl, I thought it might be fun to practice my matchmaking skills. Asking him what he looks for in a woman, thinking he'd provide the basics: pretty, smart and most importantly a great rack.

Nope.

"Well, if she wasn't screwing someone else she would have been fantastic. So available is a start."

And this was proven by ogling every ring less waitress the remainder of the evening. Like a true friend, I helped.

A Small Tidbit

My mom was questioning an ethical decision I made recently:

Mom: "And do you think you made the right decision?"

Sarah: "How am I supposed to know, remember I dropped an ethics class when a midget sat behind me."

M: "Sarah, a midget, really?"

S: "Um sorry, I think the correct term is vertically challenged."

M: "Interesting. So what is your politically correct term? Spiritually challenged?"

S: "I'm sure that's one of many. Wanna hear my suggestions?"

M: "Maybe another time."

S: "Should I remind you?"

M: " No, never."

Tivo Mine Coverage

Have I been watching too many Simpsons reruns--or does this guytotally remind you of this guy?

EEK!

Ben's Theory

"Al Gore is clueless, Daisy's ass is the leading cause of global warming."

After which, I'm sure he went straight home and starting researching on the internet how dog farts affect climate change.

Oh My Happy Day--Guest Blog

Guest Blog by Just Some Guy

Okay so yes I’m the one that tried to talk Sarah into moving to Boise, and no it wasn’t for sexual reasons. My biggest problem now is that Sarah missed the greatest day of the year in Idaho. I like to call it coming out day for Republicans. I’m usually not political at all but if you knew Larry Craig then a) your gaydar would go off too and b) you’d love the hypocrisy of his political views.

My political joyous rant is now over.

Alright Sarah asked me to guest blog on her trip to Potatoland and I must say judging from some of your comments maybe I should be the one moving to Utah. Funny how I wasn’t “Hott!!!” when I lived there. Oh well I’m not bitter…yes I am.

I just want to give you some highlights of Sarah quotes:

“Seeing all these cows on the way up I really want a burger”
Then she got one, and got immediate nausea.

“How do you not have a mirror?”
For the record I do have one, it just doesn’t show what shoes I’m wearing apparently. Which shouldn’t matter anyway because, Sarah forgot her shoes and wore the single pair of flip flops she brought with her. I guess they go with everything after all.

“I just want to lay down here and stay forever.”
Yes that was in the wine aisle at Albertsons where Sarah learned that when idiot conservative church going republicans don’t make liquor laws you can have a better consumer experience while grocery shopping.

“What do you mean your internet is out?”
I have seen heroin addicts with better ability to deal with their addiction. It’s okay Stella James needed the rest I think.

“How sturdy do you think her bike lock is?”
Yes Sarah wanted to steal a woman’s pink cruiser. Even better was her rationale of, “look there’s another one she can just steal hers”

While SLC’s favorite blogger may never move to my fair state of Ada County I will say that I doubt she’ll make the amount of Idaho jokes she did before. After all I can walk to the store and pick up a bottle of “Little Pink Truck” anytime I want to. So there.

Struts & Mutts

It was nice to get away for a couple days, but man does it feel good to be home. I missed my beast of a dog and my own bed. Boise does have better liquor laws, but it doesn’t have mountains or my friends. Needless to say, I won’t be moving there anytime soon.

Of course I brought home as much wine and REAL beer as my little car could carry. I called Ben last night to arrange a pickup for his share of the wealth. Before I got a chance to tell him why I was calling, he let me know he found a good shop to replace the struts in my car. I don’t recall asking him about that, but maybe he was just preparing for the damage hundreds and hundreds of dollars in wine weight can do to a car.

I Took the 'Lemon' Way Home:

Why I May Never Leave:

Potato Bound

I have a brilliant new playlist on my iPod. To celebrate I'm road tripping to Boise for the weekend. A pretty boy I know there has agreed to put me up for the weekend. In return I have agreed to eat all his food and drink all his wine. How could I pass up an offer like that? Exactly!

The Mother/Daughter Relationship

I feel ill today—on the verge of puking every other second. Yet, I still made it to classes and to work. I’m very proud of my current Supergirl status, though I’d much rather be curled up in bed with someone taking care of me. Only there isn’t a someone in my life right now. Daisy with her lack of opposable thumbs is completely useless.

I can’t decide if I ate something bad, or if I’m still sick over yesterday’s lunch conversation with my mom:

Mom: “Do you want my tomatoes?”
Sarah: “No thank you. They are good for the prostate, but my non-existent one is fine at the moment.”
M: “Oh, they are? I’ll have to tell your dad. When I rolled over in bed….”
S: “MOM!! Please stop. I do not want to hear this. No way, no how. Just stop!”
M: “What? Anyway…”
S: “Mom, I’m not kidding. I’ll leave.”
M: “As I was saying…”

(At this point I was curled up in fetus position underneath the table. Okay that part isn’t true, but I did briefly consider it.)

M: “When I rolled over in bed I noticed a book on your dad’s side of the table. It was a prostate health book. See, it wasn't that bad. You're so weird about things.”
S: “Remind me why I meet you for lunch?”
M: “Because I pay.”

I know it’s selfish, but I just don’t want to hear this stuff. It was bad enough having my mom and cousin, both nurses, discussing labor and delivery. I can only assume they were trying to discourage the birth of my hypothetical illegitimate child.

When Girl Meets Bus--Column 8.23.07

To read my In Utah This Week column click here. You know you want to!

A Phone Conversation with My Mother

Sarah: "Do you promise you'll be there someday when I'm knocked up and all alone."

Mom: "Of course, unless I'm dead."

S: "Funny you should mention that, you almost died Monday. When my alarm clock went off Monday morning I remember hearing on the news that there was a nasty car wreck in Millard county and a woman died. I realized I hadn't heard from you on Sunday and thought maybe you were dead."

M: "You did? You didn't call."

S: "I feel back asleep, and when I remembered about it later I figured someone would have called me if you were dead. BUT I did tell my friends the story later that afternoon."

M: "Sweetie, your Dad is in Alaska, who would have called you? You should have called."

S: "MOM! You aren't dead, does it really matter now? I just want to know if you're going to be supportive when I'm knocked up and all alone. You can't be dead, who is going to raise my child?"

M: "Are you trying to tell me something, Sarah?"

S: "No Mom, I'm the furthest thing from knocked up. I'm currently in a dry spell."

M: "I need to go back to work now, we can discuss this when I see you tomorrow afternoon."

S: "You really want to discuss my hypothetical illegitimate child?!"

M: "No. See you tomorrow. Don't forget to show up."

Letter to my Missionary Brother #5

Dear Chady-Bear,

It’s nice to hear you’re not dead. I haven’t heard that directly from you of course, but from our dear mother. WHAT THE HELL?! You can take the time to send her a letter, but not me? I’ve given you a five day grace period from when mom received her letter, and still… nothing. Bad Chad! Are you playing favorites because you came out of her? Because if so, might I remind you, who did you spend more time with until the age of five? Yeah, me. Maybe you blocked those years from your memory, and for the sake of your inner holy ghost, perhaps that’s best.

Do you remember when you thought you invented the “F” word? (For the safety of your eternal salvation I’ll not type the actual word. Now that’s love!) I was driving you to daycare on my way to school, which I did EVERY SINGLE DAY! You couldn’t get your seatbelt to buckle correctly and you yelled f*** at the top of your cute little lungs. I asked you were in the world you’d heard such a bad word. “Sissy, I made it up. It’s my word, not bad.” I’d never been so proud, so I let you have that one. That was the year you made a bed inside my closet because I wouldn’t let you sleep with me and you wanted to be close. You were four.

Listen up Bear… if you don’t send me a letter soon, I’m going to be forced to tell your mission president your affinity for profanity.

Love, love, love you!

Sis

In the Money!

Uncle Cabbage Patch took Ben and I to dinner last week. As he was paying (Thanks!) I caught a peek at his wallet and couldn't stop laughing at his Mexican produce. Is it a fruit or is it a vegetable. Who knows!

Finding Midge

You’ve read her name on here before, and may have noticed her blog. But do you really know Midge, and don’t you wonder where I got her?

Marjorie and I met in 2000… I think. A male friend of mine met her on LDSSO.com. Yes, really. The day after their first date I asked him how it went. He described her as pretty, sarcastic and had enough sass to back it all up. “She opened the door with a cocktail in hand. I hated her, but you two would be PERFECT for one another!” And we were. I’ve long since lost track of him, but Midge was the best thing he could have ever done for me. I’ve loved her ever since our first date to Red Rock, even if she did smoke Newports.

I call her Midge because that’s Barbie’s best friend. But you knew that, didn’t you?

Daisy... still Lazy

Thank you to everyone for all the emails and comments checking up on Daisy! She's doing much better. I know this because she ate salad when I accidentally dropped some on the floor yesterday.

She's still taking medications which are re-training her blood to clot. I admit this had me slightly worried at first-- I've never been able to train her to rollover, much less something so difficult. Puggy is still slightly lethargic, but this is easily explained by the fact she's following my lead. After all, it is the Lord's day, which in my house means weekend drinking recovery.

Downtown Rising?

Or is it downtown dying? I get the slogans confused.

Lessons in Consumerism

A friend and I were running errands today. And by errands I mean the liquor store for Stoli, and Smiths for mixers.

"Why in the world did I get a tampon coupon for purchasing lemonade? That makes no sense, whatsoever!"

"You bought sugar-free lemonade--only a girl would buy that."

It's the little things that make me smile.

Adventures of a Non-Biker

Did you know if you wear a bike helmet when peddling home drunk, you’re safer and cuter? A friend proved that to me last night. It almost makes me want to pull out my beach cruiser and ride from bar to bar—almost. I bought a bike two summers ago, for that very reason. Has it happened? No. Will it? Probably not. The street I live on has a slight incline and I can’t be bothered to ride uphill. Can you see why I’m not a mountain biker?

At the beginning of the summer I pulled the bike out with the brilliant idea that if I painted it pink—rather then it’s current blue color—I would ride it more, or at all. I searched until I found the perfect shade of pink paint. When I got ready to paint it, I realized I’d have to pull the bike apart to properly paint it. And if you pull something apart the rules of the universe clearly state you must put it back together. Needless to say, I didn’t tear the bike apart. My bike is not pink. My bike is not currently being ridden.

I’ll just have to live vicariously through my friend’s riding adventures. Maybe I can paint his helmet pink. I do have the paint…

Vet It All Out--Column 8.16.07

To read this week's column for In Utah This Week click here.

Nicotine and Me

Dear Nicotine,

I saw you at the drugstore last night, and I was oh so tempted to toss you in my cart and take you home. I love any new product and one that promises “a neat and tidy nicotine fix” by delivering you into my system via hand gel seemed like a dream come true. Only I don’t smoke, and not for lack of trying.

Remember when I first bought you? You were packed into little tiny Capri cigarettes. The box had pink on it, so I overlooked the granny image and went for it. After one afternoon of smoking on the porch with a neighbor, I quit you. Even at the age of 21 I had commitment issues.

I forgot about you for a while, and then I found Midge. When I met her the two of you were already best of friends. Feeling left out I tried you again. This time in the form of a white trash Newport with a tiny mint Altoid tucked in my cheek to hide the smoky flavor. I tolerated you on occasion, but sadly couldn’t form an addiction.

Two years ago you re-entered my life--this time in the form of a patch. A friend of mine was trying to kick you out of his life… can you imagine? I convinced him that I needed you and he carefully applied the patch on my back. Minutes later I was on the floor of the bathroom puking my guts out. Oh, Nicotine, why do you hate me so? I’d love to lather up my hands with the clean cool gel, all while getting a fix. But I’m sure you can understand why I put you back on the shelf and walked away. Maybe in another life…

Love,
Sarah

BYOC

A fellow blogger friend and I were discussing our reader stats at coffee today. He pointed out you really have to be a mommy blogger these days to have a large amount of site traffic. To which I replied, "I'm not getting knocked up just so I can be a mommy blogger!"

Which is why I will be strictly enforcing the bring your own condom rule in all my future, ahem, endeavors.

Not a Match

The hostess with the mostess, Katie, had another great bbq Sunday afternoon for a friend's going away party. (If you're keeping track that's two friends leaving this month.)

We were talking about online dating and she told me that Match.com had tried to match her divorced parents. I laughed. No way was that going to happen to me.

...but then it did.

Yesterday an email came from Match letting me know an ex and I are an 84% match. Seriously? Been there done that. I think it's time for Match to revamp inventory.

Welcome Wagon

There’s a new bitch in town, and she goes by the name Pants. I only hope she doesn’t catch the Jesus--I hear it itches in the nether regions.

My lovely friend is moving to the land of Zion this week. She hails from San Francisco where wine flows cheaply and the men, while gay, are very, very pretty. I suspect the shock value of her new home will drive her to daily drinking. YAY!

She comes from religious stock, but like myself quit that shit years ago. Who said quitting was a bad thing?

I'll let the good old women of Relief Society know you've arrived, dear girl. Let the baked goods begin. They magically appear on my doorstep twice a month. I think the treats will go well with our Bloody Mary Sundays-- the only true religion for kids like us!

Woe is Sunday

I decided to use my best coping skills and go on an afternoon bender. If that didn't fix my horrible weekend, nothing would. Heading to the grocery store for supplies I find myself growing excited for my afternoon in. How could it not make me feel better? I could catch up on my Tivo, wander around in boxers and my ratty Social Distortion tank top all while drinking boozie smoothies.

Yay, things were looking up!

I got home and started making a beautiful raspberry lemon smoothie when my blender crapped out. And if that weren't enough, in one final moment of glory the blender shot a pink mixture all over my kitchen.

Fuck today. I'm going to bed; It's too exhausting to be awake.

When Dreams Come True!

I've had the worst weekend ever, but it was quickly forgotten when I saw someone found my blog by searching "NKOTB WIVES."

I've been telling Milinda since 7th grade I was born to marry a New Kid. It's so meant to be!

Another Time I feel like my Mother

I feel fifty fucking five today! I just got off the phone with a friend who called before heading to Colorado for the weekend to do some hiking. Instead of telling him to drink up and have fun what did I say? "Ok, be safe!" What is wrong with me? Sure, I love my friends and care about their well-being, but seriously there must be a way to care without sounding like my mother.

Goodbye, Carmen--Column 8.9.07

One of my dearest friends, Carmen, is ditching this pretty, great state and heading to the land of sun and bikinis. To read this week's column written as one last guilt trip click here. While at his house I couldn't help but notice the giant dent he's made in his packing:

I have a feeling he's going to need just a few more things for survival than roller blades, baseball mitt and hat. But at least he's got the basics.

Prehistoric Auntie

I picked up the twins from school today since their parents are out of town on business. I got them all buckled in and off we went for an adventure. It's funny, kids will find the most boring errands exciting if you tell them it's an adventure. It also works with Ben.

New Order's "Blue Monday" was playing on my stereo and Hannah starting shrieking with excitement. "It's dinosaur music aunt Sarah. I love it sooooo much!" I asked her if the song was on one of her movies, maybe one with a dinosaur. Nope. I know 80's music seems sorta old, but really dinosaur music? I think my three-year-old niece called me ancient. Great.

Midge's Little Man

I had a good snuggle with Ike on Sunday. Midge has two men in her life now, so being a good best friend she shares. Having something so sweet in my arms leaves me sorta craving a baby. But I'm well aware that craving a baby is much more dangerous then craving chocolate peanut butter ice cream. From what I understand it's much easier to work off one serving of ice cream then nine months of baby. Besides I promised my Mom today I'd wait until I was 35 to have a baby out of wedlock. She says that gives her sufficient time to find me a husband. I have my doubts, but if she wants to make a hobby out of my social life who am I to stop her?

Letter to my Missionary Brother #4

Dear Chady,

Thanks for proving I am way cooler then Ben. I’ve always known it, and suspected you did too. I can’t wait to tell him you called me from the airport and not him. And promised I’ll make him send you a letter soon. If not a letter he can at least draw you a picture or something? I finally gave him your letter Friday night at our favorite bar. It’s the only time I was going to see him, so figured it’s better to give it to him there then not at all. I took a picture of it on the table next to our liquid refreshment. It’s irreverent I know, but makes me smile nonetheless.

You’re a total punk ass, you know. Telling me to come get you from the airport is not a joke. For just a moment I thought I was going to be smuggling a missionary out of the airport into the real world.

It’s crazy to think as I type this you’re well on your way to Japan. I can’t believe I am not going to see you for two years. How sad, but there is something you can do that will bring me much comfort: FIND HELLO KITTY WINE! I’ve seen pictures of it and need it. I’m not suggesting you break Mormon code and drink it, I’m just suggesting you send it for my birthday. You have until November; so don’t make it a priority.

I can’t believe you got cheated out of seeing The Simpsons movie before you left. I know how much you’d been looking forward to seeing it. If it makes you feel any better I saw and loved it. Also sorry to hear all your music got deleted off your iPod. Maybe God did it? You’re not supposed to have non-church music, right? Anyway, as usual I’m more than happy to help you break the rules. Let me know what you want sent.

Love you Bear! I’ll be waiting for a letter from Japan.

Love, Sis

Chad Speaks. Sorta.

Chady-bear leaves the MTC next week and heads to Japan. I got my last Provo, Utah postmarked letter today. I laughed so hard at this part, I just had to post it:

"I didn't learn Japanese in three months. I can speak VERY limited and understand all but nothing. But why do I need that when I got a face like mine? I'll attract all the Japanese girls and my companion will talk to them and teach them. Sound like a good idea?"

(Ben, Matt, Chady, Sarah)

After looking at the picture he sent me of just us kids on the day he entered the MTC, I think he should be okay. He's lucky he doesn't look like Matt, then there might be problems.

Markers Prevent Pre-Marital Sex

Ben is such a good brother. He came and took me to lunch today, but STILL didn't hang my shelves. Walking to our car I noticed a jeep parked next to me with a Mitt Romney sticker on the back.

"Ben, hand me your Sharpie."

"No! This is my favorite marker and I don't want it to end up in the evidence bin at the police station."

I was mostly kidding. He was not. He has a strange fascination with markers and carries a Sharpie in his pocket. I wonder if this has something to do with the lack of girlfriend in his life.

KSL--Not just my father's station.

Today I had the opportunity to make an appearance on Studio 5 with Brooke Walker to discuss blogging. It was my first television gig, unless you count the time I was arrested for robbing the 7-11. I kid, I kid. (Seriously, mom, I'm joking. No need to call.)

It's true what they say about the camera adding 10 pounds. Strangely it added the weight to my face, when I'd requested it go straight to my chest. Oh well, it's always worth a shot.

I had a great time and if you've not watched Studio 5 you should definitely check it out. They were all very nice, even if they did make me watch BYU baseball dubbed in Spanish in the waiting area.

Where Winter Sweaters go to Die

Last night I heard Daisy go upstairs. I went up a few minutes later and couldn't find her. I walked back down the stairs and looked around. Nothing. I started to panic thinking what if she slipped out of the house and I hadn't noticed. Frantic, I ran back upstairs one last time to look around before going out to scour the neighborhood. Suddenly the giant pile of laundry on my floor shifted. She raised her head long enough to give me evil skank eye for disturbing her slumber and laid back down and went to sleep. Stubborn little creature refused to the rest of the night. Perhaps I should consider doing laundry soon?

Bringing out the inner goddess--Column 8.2.07

To read this week's column where I make an attempt at pole dancing go here. To visit The Goddess Academy site go here. To see brilliant photos taken by Cottonsox Photography go here. (Obviously I am in none of these pictures--I was the one tangled in tears on the floor.)

That ought to keep you busy for at least an hour. Enjoy!

To Each Their Own Smack

Do you have a justification dance? I do. It's cute and geeky all at the same time. And today I had the opportunity to share it with everyone in the parking lot of Blockbuster.

I went with Marky to pick up some crack cocaine, or Deadwood, whatever. Do not deny this boy his smack. He gets moody! As we were checking out Marky was lingering near the treats. I kindly reminded him we were stopping at Maverick for drinks and Sunchips. The cashier got excited, which is not normal. (The Hollywood Video near my house employs zombie kids. I'm sure they are just hungover and puffy from the previous night, but I'm sticking with the zombie story.) The cashier and I, we bonded over cinamon flavored Sunchips. I discovered them at a truck stop in Evanston and have been in love ever since. Seriously, churros in a bag. It's a beautiful thing.

As usual Marky has been forced to accept my obsessions. Meaning he's driven me to countless gas stations on the hunt for them. Sadly, they're not so easy to find. I was so excited that someone else was just as addicted. Suddenly I felt normal. Of course only for a brief second, because that's when the parking lot of people saw me dancing around with my fist in the air--ala Rocky Balboa.

Gimme an F! Gimme an I! Gimme an X!

Blogging is so much like high school. I remember Pants telling me this, and I shrugged it off thinking it couldn't be all that bad. It is. When blogging you put yourself out there for anyone to read, that's the point, right? Sometimes you read a blog not because you are "stalking" the person, but because you enjoy the writing. Rather than bother myself with it, I'm going to revamp the old RSS feed. This is where you come in. I need a daily does of blogs to read. I'm a blog junkie! I'd love some new recommendations on entertaining, well-written blogs. Email or comment me if you have any. My RSS feed and I will be eternally grateful!

Moving on.

Wine was spilled last night, and again it was not my fault. Learning my lesson, I kept my cup in hand the entire time. Even then it still got kicked over. You'd think it would be impossible but a fellow concert kicked the cup out of my hand as he passed, causing it to spill all over Aimee. There was no attempted apology. Which may have been my fault--I think I offended him. I tend to expand my vocabulary to include every expletive I know when someone kicks my hand. It hurt therefore I'm 100% justified--that's how it works, yo!

Aimee was soaked in red wine. Which totally made it okay to plot revenge. She had a plan, that is until sweet Sue intervened. "God is watching you, Aimee." Aimee looked to me for an answer. "It's Baby Jesus I'd be concerned with, and he must be asleep by now. Go for it." I knew it was mean, but I was bitter. I wanted to get through an outside concert without having my drink displayed all over my friend's clothing and blanket. Just one! Is that really too much to hope for?

In the end there was no revenge plan executed. Once the word karma got thrown into the conversation it was all over. The gods of karma better pay off today, or I'm going to be pissed!