In Utah This Week Issue #80

To read this week's "The Dating Years" column click here!

Come on, you got something better to do? I didn't think so. GO. NOW!

Bar Talk

When Tommy is in town the majority of free-time is spent at Murphy’s. He’s worth the lung cancer I’m convinced I've developed over the last few days. He left this morning, so last night the troops rallied to give him a proper send-off. I promised myself I’d only stay a couple of hours, but that never seems to work. I also promised myself I’d not have any embarrassing moments, which also didn’t seem to work.

Miss D, my all-time favorite woman of the group, was there. I’ve not seen her as she’s been gallivanting around Europe, leaving us to fend for ourselves. (Many Hootie songs were heard on her behalf.) In my excitement to see her I didn’t pay much attention to the others sitting at the table. I started talking to her and another friend about my dating life and in typical Sarah fashion ended the story by uttering the term “dry-humping.” It was at that moment Miss D looked at the man sitting across from her and said, “Sarah, this is my father.” I could feel a slow burn rising to my cheeks and said, “OF course it is!” Miss D laughed and said something about another classic Sarah moment.

He had a great sense of humor and wasn’t bothered at all. Luckily my dating life is in a lull these days; otherwise, I’m afraid of what other non-parental term I may have uttered in front of him.

Later in the evening I was looking for my purse and found it tucked away at his table. I’m guessing he sensed my lack of responsibility and decided he better keep an eye out for me. And I’m sure glad he did! I need all the help I can get.

Good Luck Charms

I had a math test last night. In a frantic rush to get out the door I didn't take the time to look for my cute Hello Kitty pencil Mrs. Ak brought me from Japan, instead just grabbed the first pencil in my junk drawer. I tossed it and a calculator into my bag and was off.

It wasn't until half way through the test when I needed to erase something that I noticed the penis pencil topper. I'm not in the habit of adding extra male anatomy to already semi-phallic items--this was all Quinn-diesel's doing. Last year when he spruced my my pen and pencil jar I laughed and shoved in in a drawer, forgetting about it until today.

As silly as I felt I still scored my highest thus far. Now the debate begins: do I take my good luck pencil back next week, or pass the good luck on and stash it in a co-workers office?

Sleeveless for the Holidays

I love Apple products, but absolutely detest The Apple Store. So much in fact, I drive clear out to the 'burbs to visit ExperCom whenever I need help.

A couple weeks ago Maddie and I were shopping at Gateway and decided (after much pleading on her part) to go inside so she could get a laptop case. Since I was already there and had to wait in line with her, I figured I might as well pick up a much needed pink sleeve for my iBook.

I got home and found it was the wrong size. Which was sort of annoying since the salesperson helping me had looked up the exact dimensions of my computer and recommended that size. But whatever, I knew Marky and I would be down there the next day so returning it would be no big deal. And it wasn't, I walked in and traded for what I was promised would be the perfect fit for my treasured Stella James.

Again, I got home and it was the wrong size... still way too big, and isn't the point for the padded sleeve to be snug? When Ben and I went to see a movie a few days later we stopped to return it. While processing the return I asked the salesperson what it would take to get a sleeve that fit my computer. He looked at me and said, "You have to buy a new computer." I laughed, but quickly realized he wasn't kidding. "So you're telling me I have to spend $2,000 to get a $30 sleeve to fit?" "Exactly," he said. I wanted to tell him how ridiculous he was, but by this time Ben was getting the worried "My sister is going to FREAK OUT" face, so I let it go.

Since I refuse to buy a new computer it looks like I'll be sleeveless this winter season.

How I Know My Brother Loves Me

If Ben had a house fire he'd grab two items before running out the door: his baby blanket, and his MC Hammer/Vanilla Ice album. Seriously. As an afterthought, he may go back for Vegan Joe, his roommate. But only after MC Hammer and Vanilla Ice were safe.

Ben let me borrow this cherished CD last night, with the promise I'd return it in exactly one weeks time. I'm going to listen to the wise(?) words of MC Hammer and hope for Christmas gift inspiration. I have a difficult time buying for other people. Attempting to find the perfect gift stresses me out. Ben, however, is easy. Obviously I'll be buying him a pair of parachute pants.

To Do List

I went to brunch today with Mrs. AK and Little AK. While we were (im)patiently waiting for our pancakes Little AK made her daily list of things to do.

1. Be cute
2. Wear pink
3. Laugh at Arlo
4. Laugh at Ben
5. Be smart
6. Don't whine
7. Watch Hannah Montana

After reading her list I realized we have the exact same day planned, excluding Hannah Montana of course, as I had already planned to watch Gilmore Girls.

Not Your Source for Porn

What is it about this time of year that makes people want to search online for LDS porn? Is that the new trend in Christmas gifts? If so, I missed the memo. In the span of two days I've had ten people link to my blog by googling "lds porn." Last year around this time I had the same problem, so I'm blaming the holidays.

Here are some other gift suggestions for your favorite Mormon this holiday season:

Fabric Scripture Carrier---perhaps something in denim this year? It's a favorite among someone somewhere, I'm sure.

A New Book of Mormon, complete with single word change--who doesn't need an updated version?

Or maybe your loved one is political, if so a contribution to the Romney for President fund might be a thoughtful choice.

But if you still have your heart set on something naughty, might I suggest you order the same gift I'm giving my mother this year. I have a feeling she's really going to love it.

Cooking with Max Headroom

Our Thanksgiving dinner was amazing, even if we did forget a green salad. But as Ben said, "It's just filler. Why waste stomach room on salad?" The entire day was so much fun, even the parts where I learned stuff from Arlo... like how to make gravy. Ben and I made the mashed potatoes, Mormon style--which means lots and lots of fatty ingredients and a Book of Mormon on the kitchen counter for luck.Unfortunately, AK ended up out of the country on a business trip so he wasn't able to be there in person, but thanks to Skype video he was able to supervise our activities. He didn't have a lot of faith in our kitchen skills and made sure we knew where the fire extinguisher was at all times. No, seriously.Mrs. AK, however, didn't need any supervision. Her turkey was perfect! Can't wait until next year!

Obligatory Thanksgiving Post

I have so much to be thankful this year...

I'm thankful I have loving and loyal friends who are family to me. Especially Mrs. AK, who despite being British, planned an all-American Thanksgiving feast complete with a child's place setting for Ben.Speaking of family, even though my parents decided to spend the holiday amongst drug dealers and elderly vacationers, I'm extremely thankful I have both a mom and a dad. I'm also thankful I have such cool brothers, a sister-in-law that I adore, and the most amazing niece and nephew in the entire world.

I could on, but I won't. There's cooking to be done. Granted I'll just be watching, but watch I shall! Obviously I'll be paying closer attention to our Canadian friend's ass, than I will any food preparation, but have complete faith he won't poison me. I think.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!!!

Reminding myself she's worth it!

Cost of trip to vet: $80
Cost of dog pills: $30
Cost of "special" food: $40


Coming home to this face every day:

PRICELESS!

The Dating Years, In Utah This Week--Issue#79

To read this week's column go here! Ex-boyfriends certainly seem to be the theme for this week, in blog-land and out.

Letter to Self, and You

Dear Self,

After reading these comments, remember despite all of it, you really, really like blogging. It gives you a creative outlet and an opportunity to practice the craft of writing. Also, remember the laugh factor--you’ve always been the happiest when you make someone laugh and smile.

Love, Sarah
PS. Your ass looks hot today.



Dear Readers,

I’m fully aware that by blogging about my life, it’s out there for anyone to read. I have no problem with that. Sure, sometimes a comment will irk me, but not for long. Roll with the punches, right? I think Stray Scott nailed it when, in a comment, he said that he too would read the blog of an ex. I have as well, and don't think it's a big deal.

I would like to address this comment: “Purposely living her life as public as Sarah does, down to minute details via Twitter, she has no right to complain.” I want you to know I’m not complaining, at all. I'll keep blogging, if you keeping reading. Deal?

Love, Sarah
PS. I hope your asses look good today, too!


Dear Ex,

I suspect you're not the only ex reading this site. I don't mind. Whichever ex you are, I hope you are happy and well.

Love,
Sarah

Livin' on the Edge

I don't have the best eating habits. This we reinforced over the weekend by Alaska Pat, my soon-to-be personal trainer. It's not that I don't eat healthy, because typically I do, it's that I don't eat regular meals. I blame my schedule, but truthfully it just seems like a hassle more often than not. Which is why Wheat Chex and vanilla soy milk were invented... to sustain me.

This morning in an attempt to eat at least three meals a day, I had a cup of coffee with soy milk. Soy milk counts as a real meal, right? Then, as I ran out the door, I grabbed one of my Dannon Light & Fit-Carb & Sugar Control Smoothies to drink for lunch. Since I'm not in the office very many hours as is, I rarely take a lunch.

Just now, as I was about to drink said smoothie, I noticed the expiration date was Nov 14. In my quest for good health, I choose to ignore the fact and drink it anyway. Now, I'm just sitting around waiting to die wondering how important forcing yourself to eat really is.

Weird, me? Never.

Tagged: I am to post 7 weird things about myself.

The rules are:

A). Link to the person who tagged you and post the rules on your blog.
B). Share 7 random and/or weird facts about yourself.
C). Tag 7 random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs.
D). Let each person know that they've been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

1) I still sleep with a baby blanket. I've been known to take it along when spending the night with men. An ex used to tease me mercilessly, but secretly he thought it was hot.

2) I cannot sleep if my knees are touching, or if my my hair is touching my face. The baby blanket comes in handy for keeping my knees apart (insert own perverted thought here). The hair issue is solved by putting my hair in a bun at night. Which, I've been told, makes me naughty librarian hot.

3) I like my coffee better cold, even in the winter. I think it's the last remaining bit of Mormon in me. MUST DRINK CAFFEINE COLD! That shit is hardwired into my brain.

4) I hate pushing a grocery cart. When I go shopping I use the little basket, even if it means going to the grocery store more often. The only time I push one is when I go to Costco with Marky, and he ditches the cart like he did today. Yes, I'm still bitter.

5) There are stacks of books surrounding my bed, but when I bring a guy home I kick them under the bed so he doesn't see. I have no idea why I don't want a man to see how much I read, especially since it helps with the naughty librarian role play.

6) I made up words all the time and try to pass them off as actual words. Sometimes I can be so convincing I forget they aren't real myself.

7) I know an entire bottle of wine fits perfectly into a Nalgene bottle. I know this because it's the only way to get me to go camping and/or hiking. Red wine makes everything fun! I don't actually think this is weird, but others have teased me enough I'm nearly convinced.

Note to self: be less weird.

I'm too lazy to tag anyone, so let's mix this up and let seven readers tag themselves. Leave a comment on this post so people can link to yours.

Letter to my Missionary Brother #8

Dear Chady-Bear,

I’m really slow at getting a letter off to you. I’m sorry, Bear! I’ve been really busy trying to beat my baby brother through college. It’s a weird competition, but a competition all the same. I. Must. Win. I can’t wait for this semester to be over—23 credit hours wasn’t exactly a good idea. I’m totally spent.

Thank you for your birthday letter! I know you love me… why else would you risk your mission by sending your sister wine? I’m pretty sure that’s against the rules. Maybe it’s better you weren’t able to find it—as much as I want you to come home, I’d feel really guilty if you were sent home because of my Hello Kitty obsession and need for wine.

I laughed so hard at the thought of you filling your suitcase full of beer. As funny as that would be, please don’t. Sapporo is not only sold here, but also sold in adult sizes. The picture of you holding the itsy bitsy can kept us all laughing!

Even though I’m busy, things are good. I don’t love that I saw Christmas stuff in stores before Halloween, but I do love that the holidays are getting closer! It’s going to be hard this year not having you around. I get bored visiting home if there’s not someone to bug. Ben and I bug each other on a constant basis so he’s out of the question. Matt’s always napping so he’s out. Maybe it’s time to groom Carter for the position. The point is, you’ll be missed. A lot. You’re the baby and I absolutely love you.

Speaking of loving you, you said something the day you left that is still haunting me. I can’t remember your exact words but something to the affect that I loved Ben more than I loved you. Whenever I think about those words I get a giant lump in my chest. Chady, I love all my brothers; I just have more in common with Ben. That doesn’t mean I love him more than you. You are the sweet little baby boy that used to sleep on my bedroom floor just to be close to me. You are the brother I took time out of my busy teenager schedule to drive you to daycare every day. You are the one who, at six, cried and cried when I left home asking if I was leaving because I didn’t love you anymore. Chady, I loved you then, and I love you now. Nothing is going to change that.

Now that we got that out of the way let’s talk Christmas. Mom is going to send you a package from all of us, but is there anything you want me to send? Contraband items of any kind? I’m more than happy to be your dealer. Let me know.

Have a good week Bear, and remember I LOVE YOU!

Love,
Sissy

Street Trash

Dear Asshole in the red Toyota Landcruiser,

Putting a sticker on your vehicle that reads: "I think it was a mistake to give women the right to vote," just shows what a prick you really are. Also, smoking a cigar while driving at 8:30 AM doesn't help your image.

I'm trying to be more careful with my karma, but will risk it when I say, "I hope you burn in hell."

Regards,
Sarah

IN Utah This Week--The Dating Years--Issue#78

To read this week's column go here!

Google-Talking Ourselves out of Fitness:

me: Is it possible to feel too fat for the gym?

marky: I'm right there with ya. I feel more like doing whatever is opposite of the gym. Which, I guess, is what I am doing right now.

me: I need better gym clothes... that's my thing.

marky: There ya go! Let's go shopping for gym clothes, instead.

me: Where?

marky: Shrug..Target?

me: I could use a Target run.

marky: Sweet.

me: But now I am in ugly gym clothes, so give me a few to change into real clothes again.

marky: Lemme get out of these silly gym clothes. Heh... we're funny.

The Secret Life of Marky

My friend Marky has a secret life. He has an entire friend network I've never met. For the longest time I just assumed they were all made up, and served as an excuse why he couldn't accompany me on errands. Then I met one of his imaginary friends, and it turns out he's indeed a real person with a name and everything! But, of course, I instantly forgot his name, so when I see him around town I never say hello. Which isn't a big deal because I'm positive he hates me. There's no other explanation for his odd behavior.

It started at Cafe Niche when I was having brunch with my girlfriends. Non-imaginary friend sat down at the table next to us, drank a little coffee and then bolted to a table across the room. Recognizing him as one of Marky's friends I tried my best to keep the offensive brunch conversation to a minimum by not saying vagina over and over, so I knew that wasn't the reason for his move.

I noticed him again at one of my favorite lunch spots and he did his best to avoid any contact with me. Over the course of a month there's been quite a few run-ins, without any acknowledgment on either of our parts.

I can't help but wonder what Marky is telling his friends to make them hate me so. Is it that I made him leave the U game early to take me to the library? Or is it because I doubted their existence to begin with?

My Mother the Drug Smuggler

Mom: "Just calling to say goodbye. We are leaving in the morning for our trip."

Sarah: "Ok, but who is going to take care of me?"

Mom: "You have three brothers, if you need anything call one of them."

Sarah: "Umm, I actually have four brothers, but what if there's an emergency?"

Mom: "Just call 1-800-Princess."

Sarah: "Mom, come one. Seriously. I'm not playing the part of a princess, by wanting a contact number."

Mom: "We're taking a Princess cruise, Sarah. And before you say anything, yes, without you. Sorry."

Sarah: "Fine... I still love you, but give the contact info to a more responsible child. Have fun and don't forget to bring me a present, but please not from Columbia. I don't have the bail money it would take to spring a drug smuggling mama from jail."

Making Even Holidays Dirty

My family ditched me for Thanksgiving, and left me with the responsibility of finding Ben a suitable place to spend the holiday. My mom took his threat to eat at Village Inn seriously, which is rather silly because it's much easier to order Chinese food, and Ben is all about easy. (Please note: This is not a sly way of saying he dates sluts, because I have no problem telling him his girlfriends are not good enough for him.)

After much consideration I decided we would be spending Thanksgiving with Mrs. AK, her kids, the Japanese basement dwellers and our Canadian turkey baster. AK will be out of the country for the holiday, which sucks because there goes our designated driver, which makes it a weekend affair. If I'm going to have a Thanksgiving off from the Mormon family I'm going to spend it drinking massive amounts of wine--or course, saving some room for turkey and pie.

Today, Mrs. AK and I were assigning duties when she asked, "What task should I assign Ben? Entertainment?" "No," I said, "I told him he would be carving the turkey and peeling veggies. He's really good at skinning things. Which if you think about it is really worrisome." Mrs. AK said, "Yes, but better than Arlo, who is apparently good at boning the turkey."

I cannot wait for our dirty Thanksgiving!

Because It's Sunday

Ben and I had a sibling day yesterday. Since he moved to the 'burbs I don't get to see him as much as I did when he lived across the hall. I miss seeing him more, but I don't miss the smell of his sink full of dirty dishes.

We left The Gateway and were driving past the temple when Ben got really quiet. I love it when Ben gets really quiet! It means he's about to say something really weird. I crossed my fingers and hoped it would be something blog worthy.

"I can't believe it took 40 years to build the temple. It's not even that big. I could've built it ALONE in way less time and that includes the time it would take to learn to build a temple."

I'm not good with this religious stuff but I'm pretty sure it's not a building competition between Ben and God. But if it were, my money would be on God--not because I'm a big believer, but because Ben is really lazy.

Suddenly Happy He "Forgot" to Vote

Sarah: "Who lives in Dad's rental property?"

Ben: "Just a bunch of guys, why?"

Sarah: "There is a pro-voucher sign in the yard. It's weird."

Ben: "So. I was pro-voucher too."

Sarah: "Ben, for starters you didn't vote, and second do you even know what the vouchers are about?"

Ben: "No clue, but I would have voted against them just to spite you."

Sarah: "Sometimes I hate you."

Ben: "Whatever. I'll pick you up in 30 minutes for the movie."

The Dating Years, In Utah This Week--Issue# 77

To read this week's column for In Utah This Week go here! Sadly, the footage of Ben singing to me was dark and crummy. Imagining it may be better a whole lot better, just don't do it too long or your head may explode.

Instead just look at how good the boy Clements and I look together:
Or at how weird Ben is:

The "Magic" Toy

Am I the only childless person tired of hearing about toy recalls? Lead paint? Big freaking deal, who hasn't ingested a little lead paint in their life? At least with the Aqua-Dot recall it's for a good reason: GHB is meant for frat parties, NOT children.

Even the Easy-Bake Oven has been recalled, because of a "burn hazard." No shit! While it is an oven powered by a light bulb, it's still hot. How else do you overcook those little cakes? And recalling Dunkin' Donuts glow sticks because kids are choking on the lanyard? Shouldn't the company be more concerned with the fact kids may eat them? I, for one, put nearly anything with the DD logo in my mouth. And I'm an adult. Ohhh, and another favorite was the recall for Gymboree Pirate Swords because they break and are sharp. Hmmm, a sword that's sharp? Weird.

I remember as a child the dangerous toys were the best kind, like those giant metal Tonka Trucks. Now those could cause some damage when thrown directly at a younger brother (Sorry Ben!). Long gone are the days of natural selection.

I'm not saying I don't want your kids to be safe, unless you are the parent of the child who grabbed my ass at the library--in that case just teach your kid some manners: like saying thank you after grabbing the hottest ass in sight, or teaching him to buy me a drink first!

What I'm trying to say is if my brother, Ben, can survive childhood anyone can! Let your kid be a kid and learn their lesson that light bulbs are hot. A childhood just isn't a childhood without an Easy-Bake Oven.

Family Text Plan

Sarah: "Did you know Roseanne Cash is having brain surgery tomorrow? Do you want to put her name on the temple prayer list, or shall I?"

Ben: "I vote you. You live closer and have less shame associated with walking in."

Moving On Up

I love my apartment, but have recently come to the conclusion I'm totally over it. It's been a good little spot for me, but it's time to move on. And move up. Only there's a problem: I want to live the good life. Nothing fancy, but it would be nice to wash both dishes and clothing at home. My current apartment has neither a dishwasher or laundry. Paying more rent shouldn't be a problem, but I'm in school and only working a part(ish) time job.

Thus the conundrum.

I've been considering taking on a roommate. I've not had a roomie in years (I'm not counting Daisy, as she never bothers to do any type of house work beyond her attempt to lick imaginary crumbs off the carpet.) I've even found a friend who is also looking for a new home. The only drawback is she's young--fantastic, but young. She looks older than she is, and acts older than she is. Then there's me... I look (I hope!!) younger than I am, and certainly act MUCH younger. If my calculations are correct (which they probably aren't, I'm getting a C in math) then I figure we average out to be 26. She's like a younger sister. In fact I had high hopes of her marrying into the family but she and Ben are "just friends."

Will this work? Do I put my hesitations to bed and jump in? Can she deal with living the spinster life at such a young age? Will we get along? Can she handle my inherited orneriness? Am I worrying too much? Probably. I am, after all, my mother's daughter.

Voting Issues... the Funny Kind

I voted. I considered posting another picture of my sweater voting like I did last time, but decided not to bore you with something I'd done before.

Besides the picture looks almost exactly the same, except my sweater is white this time and I have two brown "I Voted" stickers instead of one. Which really just made my sweater look like it was hosting two giant brown nipples. Which it's not.

After voting I handed the electronic card back to the woman and asked if she could see if my brother had remembered to vote. She looked, and he hadn't. She stuck a second sticker on my sweater and said, "When you see your brother today tell him you have his sticker and won't release it until he's voted." I laughed and then walked through the school out the front door, proudly showing my nipple votes to the small children milling about.

I will not be showing Ben his sticker. I'm sure the woman would understand.

Always the Klutz

A friend gave me a Sonicare for my birthday. I know what you're thinking, "That's an extravagant gift from a friend." But it's okay because we almost got married once.

I've been wanting one for a while, but have a hard time justifying that much money for a toothbrush. That sort of cash should be spent exclusively on hot jeans or shoes.

I was so excited I immediately ran into the bathroom to try out my new toy. However, I made the mistake of putting the toothpaste on and turning the brush on before putting it into my mouth. Not my smartest move! Rather than hugging my friend and thanking him for the gift I managed to get toothpaste in his eye and all over my bathroom. Awesome.

Friends Who Click

Dear Internet,

As I looked around the multiple birthday celebrations this weekend I couldn't help but notice a theme. Well, beyond the "drunken good times" theme I always abide by. I'm talking about the friends I've found through you. You've brought so many spectacular people into my life I might not have found otherwise.

Thank you for that, and I'll consider it my birthday gift this year, since you didn't provide me with free shipping from Sephora.

Love, Sarah

A Birthday Present NOT From My Mother:

Happy Birthday to Me

I'm 32 today. I know this because my mom left me a voicemail telling me so. It went something like this: "Good Morning sweetheart, it's your birthday. Have a good day." Direct and to the point... I can appreciate that.

Today is like any other day: wake up, swear at the alarm clock, drink too much coffee, shower, get ready and go to work. Only I don't want to. I want to lay around and be lazy. So I compromised; I didn't shave my legs, which is fine since I don't think birthday sex is on my agenda today.

In honor of today, I decided to post a picture of little Sarah:If the writing on the back is correct this was taken on my third birthday. Not a lot has changed with my sleeping habits. I still sleep with pink pajamas, only they don't have feet anymore. Ernie has been replaced with a pug, my bed is a little bigger now, and I don't sleep with a beanie. Unless I'm cold.

Birthday Letter from Missionary Brother

Dear Sis,

I hope this letter makes it in time to tell you I couldn't find Hello Kitty wine for your birthday. Sorry. I looked EVERYWHERE, and I don't know if it actually exists. But I tried. However, I did find this sweet bike for you.I was going to get it and send it to you by boat, but I'd starve the rest of my mission. We don't get a whole lot of money. Sorry. Maybe next time.

How old are you going to be this year? Was it 21 or 22? I can't remember. By the way, I thought you'd like a picture of me with Sapporo beer. Ever tried it? Any good? I was about to buy it and sent you some but realized two things: I was transferring the next day and it might be bad to show up with beer in my luggage, and also you can probably buy it in Utah. Notice the symbol for beer in Japanese. It may be useful when you come pick me up! I love you and thank you for everything you do for me. Including the time when I was little and you tricked me into getting drunk. I really thought I was drunk even though it was apple cider. I've never have any alcohol since that day. I think I was four of six. You were a funny sister to have then and now.

Happy Birthday!!!

Love, Elder Bear

The Dating Years, In Utah This Week--Issue# 76

To read this week's column click here!

Also, this week my friend Jake's first piece is appearing in In Utah This Week. After reading it here, show him your support and leave him a comment!