Note to Self

Dear Self,

Why do you continuously make such bad judgement calls?

Last night was the night to get a lot of sleep in order to rally and assume rockstardom tonight. Instead you chose to drink too much and get home at 4 am. Not your best move. How are you supposed to not only function today, but be able to party all night? Exactly. You’re not 21 anymore, you are 32 years old. You should keep that in mind.

Might I suggest some Advil, a B12 vitamin and lots and lots of water. Pull yourself together. People are counting on you.

Love, Sarah

Skin Suits and Therapy

Sarah: "Ben, you have to go see Juno ASAP, it's really good. Or Sweeney Todd. You can't beat a throat-slitting barber."

Ben: "I can't see that one. You know I'm scared of Tim Burton movies."

Sarah: "Still? You sort of an adult now."

Ben: "Sarah, I was four. Not exactly a movie to force a small child to watch over and over. This is totally your fault."

Sarah: "Well how was I to know you'd grow up to be a baby man."

Ben: "You have no room to talk, remember, you're terrified of Silence of the Lambs."

Sarah: "Because that is REAL! You could be a skin suit at any given time. Beetle Juice isn't real. Proving once again I'm way tougher than you."

Ben: "Perhaps tougher, but still in need of therapy. We really should get a therapist on staff for the entire family."

In Utah This Week, Issue #84

To read this week's column go here. It will kill at least two minutes of your day. Can't beat that.

Karma is my Bitch

Last night I drove to West Jordan to meet friends for a movie. I’ve been dying to see Sweeny Todd and they were going, so it was well worth the commute. Plus they don’t suck.

MapQuest totally lied to me—it took way longer than 16 minutes to get there. Luckily I had my new Spice Girls CD to listen to, so I didn’t mind as much. Getting out of the car I was still singing the Wannabe lyrics…

“Yo. I’ll tell you what I want, what I really really want.
So tell me what you want, what you really really want.”

…slightly off-key and entirely louder than I should’ve been, when I heard snickering behind me. Embarrassed I started walking faster, but in my non-weather appropriate footwear that wasn’t such a good idea. I, of course, slipped and in my attempt to keep from falling on my ass I accidentally grabbed the side mirror of a car, nearly tearing it off. It was all sorts of awesome, since the car belonged to the laugher.

So, I’ll tell you what I want, what I really really want. Not to look like a dumb ass in public, but I don’t see that happening anytime soon.

Not The Only Adult Child In My Family

Ben: "Stop telling people I like Nascar. I don't!"

Sarah: "Benjamin, you have a mullet, therefore you must like Nascar. It's okay, don't fight it."

Ben: "People read your blog. No more Nascar talk. BUT, I do really want Carter's bed. I'm going to request one from Santa next year."

Sarah: "You could probably just wait a couple years and Carter will outgrow his."

Ben: "Outgrow it? Why? It's awesome. Seriously, Sarah, how cool would that look in my extra bedroom? I may kick my roommate Vegan Joe out so I can."

A Princess Christmas

My niece, Hannah, called me this morning to tell me that Santa brought her a brand new princess bed. She wasn't kidding. I drove down this afternoon to see for myself and found her cuddled up with her dolls wearing a velvet princess costume. I asked her if there was room for me and she looked up with the sweetest face and said, "Yes and always, but NOT EVER BEN!" Which is totally fine since when I walked out I noticed Ben in Carter's room begging him to trade beds. Not all surprising since Carter scored a race care bed. Ben is sorta weird and into all that Nascar crap.

Merry Christmas everyone! May you all be as happy as this little girl:

A Sobering Moment

I was out doing some last minute shopping today. Stop. That's a total lie. Let me start over...

I made a quick run to the liquor store after noticing I only had one bottle of wine in my house. That is completely unacceptable during the holidays, especially when my back-up-plan, Mrs. AK, is busy entertaining family.

Anyway.

The entire time I'm in the store I can hear a small child crying, but it wasn't until I was in line behind her that I could understand what she was saying. "Buuuuutttttt, mom, I want a drink!" She wailed this over and over, occasionally swapping the word want for the word need. Her mother finally snapped and said, "NO! You don't need a drink, I need a drink and we're going straight home so I can have one!" At this point everyone started consoling the mother. One woman telling her we've all been through it. Another rubbing her back and telling her to take a deep breathe.

And I think that's what the holidays are all about, consoling complete strangers because we're all having a hard time getting through them.

Good Taste

AND he makes me laugh.

Band Aids & Ben

In the middle of my front room is a pile of presents that need to be gift wrapped; only I keep forgetting to buy wrapping paper.

Each year Ben and I share gift duty, which means I shop while he wanders around and pretends to help. The helpful part comes when we split the bill. This year has worked brilliantly for the past few years. This year, however, Ben has flaked on both Saturdays we had plans to shop. The first time he was still on a bender in Wendover, which I can completely sympathize with, but the second time he was spending the day seeing a movie with an old mission companion. Yes, the irony in my family runs deep.

He finally made a contribution. He was supposed to buy something to add to the package we still haven’t mailed Chad, and a gift for Boy AK. He bought band aids. Yes, band aids: sushi and Jesus ones for Chad--Scooby-Doo, Curious George and regular ones for Boy AK. And since it’s the holiday season and you’re supposed to be charitable I told him he’d done an excellent job and didn’t call him a freak.

In Utah This Week #83

To read my lazy version of a holiday greeting card go here. And here's proof of the mentioned "haircut."

Letter to Missionary Brother #9

Dear Chady-Bear,

Insert one of the following holiday greetings, depending on when this arrives: Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, Happy Easter!!

If you don’t get this by Christmas I’m really sorry, I spaced it. I’m fully aware of the fact I’m a crummy sister, but I’m all you’ve got so at least there’s no competition factor. And as much as we both love Holli, we only got her a few years ago. I was there from the start, changing your disgusting diapers, speaking of which I’m still regretting the day Ben fed you his corn.

I can’t believe you aren’t going to be here for Christmas. I hate that. I get that you love God but seriously gone for Christmas? This sucks. I haven’t been home to see the tree; I’m really hoping Mom didn’t pull the crap she did when Ben was on his mission: decorating a Christmas tree outside rather than one nside. Now that was a weird Christmas! I’ve told you this before, but going home without you there isn’t the same… I miss you. How many more minutes until you’re home? I’m not as excited this year as I have been in past years, and I think you being so far away may have something to do with it. I like having my brothers, Holli, and the kids close.

Mom said you wanted beef jerky and hot chocolate--good to see you’re still a freak. Cathy said you can find beef jerky in the liquor stores there, but I guess that’s probably against the rules, so I put two bags in. Mom also mentioned you needed warm gloves, but I’m lousy with all things winter so I’ll leave that one to her. I’m still sporting the stretchy Hello Kitty gloves I’ve had for years. I figured you wanted real gloves, not kid ones. But your real present is a promise from me… I promise to be better about writing you. I know you’re homesick and letters help, I relish in the fact I’m still ahead of Ben in that area!

I love you my sweet, little, Jesus-loving Chady-Bear! Happy holidays!!

Love,
Sissy

PS. The Victoria Secret Catalog was NOT my idea. Ben added it in at the last second, however, I didn't stop him. Also, we sorta just threw random holiday cards from family. My fridge is full, so...

These Sheets

As I made my bed last night, I came to terms with the fact this is likely the last time I'll sleep on these sheets. These sheets that I brought home from my grandma's house after she died. These sheets that bring me comfort, no matter how crappy I feel. These sheets, with their crazy flower pattern, remind me that my grandma was spunky, even when she was sleeping.

Over the years, since her death, these sheets have gotten me through a lot of hard times. Seeing the sheets remind me that I come from a line of strong women, they could do anything, and so can I. When the corner ripped as I made my bed last night, I didn't feel quite so strong anymore, and I got a little teary-eyed.

I can’t throw the sheets out just yet. Instead I’ll lovingly pack them away knowing that if I ever need them they’ll be there for me—just like she would’ve been if she were still alive.

Here's to Hoping

Dear Santa,

I’ve been a good girl, just ask the boys—they’ll tell you. So for Christmas this year I would like the following:

Pink or brown UGG boots
Paula Abdul to never, ever gain sobriety
A down payment for a new car or condo, your choice
Matching dishes for my kitchen
A kitchen
A first edition Dorothy Parker book
Lower gas prices
A pink terrycloth robe
Ben to have a normal haircut
Botox
Skinny thighs
A ring (Don't worry Santa, I want something pink, nothing of the diamond sort.)
Pink Kitchen Aid to go in new kitchen
A Democrat as President
Gas prices to fall (Stop emailing me, it's on here twice for a reason!)
Summer

Oh and some of that world peace people are always talking about would be nice.

Santa, I know you can't give me everything on the list, especially a Democrat in office since I imagine you're a Republican (I base this assumption on the fact you're old, fat and white.). But Santa, that's ok, I still love you. You also can't do much about my thighs since that's sorta between me, trainer Alaska Pat and the gym, but if you're some sort of magician or baby Jesus than by all means go ahead.

Love,
Sarah

PS. It's hard to set out cookies and milk without a proper kitchen to bake them in. I hope you don't mind a vitamin and Diet Coke. I have plenty of both. If that's not ok I can ask Arlo to whip you up something, but it would likely be something fancy, and Santa, you seem more of a down-to-earth-I-break-into-houses-for-a-living kind of guy.

IN, good for all your reading needs!

I'm sure this isn't the first time my name has appeared in a bathroom stall, but it's certainly the funniest!

AK found this in his office building's shared bathroom.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a Fat Night

Happy Birthday, Little AK

Little AK's birthday was a wild success. I drank good wine, had chocolate cake and heard 15 kids screeching all at once, reminding me I'm no where near ready for parenthood. Luckily I had the foresight to take Advil in advance.

My favorite part of the party took place this morning, long after I'd gone home.

Mrs. AK: "Go get the Hannah Montana doll so I can open it for you."

Little AK: "I thought Daisy's Sarah took it home."

Mrs. AK: "You mean Arlo?"

Little AK: "Oh yeah, I mean Arlo."

I love the way kids think! I belong to Daisy and not the other way around. And that she didn't question Arlo stealing her toys, and in fact sort of expected it.

Warm Vibrations

Jess had the girls over last night for a PJ party. Over dessert we discussed sex toys. The conversation was much like the one every man imagines, only we didn't have a pillow fight in our panties afterwards.

I regaled the girls with a story of my mother and her body massager from The Sharper Image. Everyone knows those massager's aren't intended for use on your back. I tried explaining this to my mom, but she wouldn't listen. One weekend when both Ben and I were home my mom's neighbor and her young daughter came over to visit. 

We were sitting around talking when I noticed the little girl had picked up the alleged vibrator and started massaging her feet.  It didn't take long before I heard some weird noises coming from her.  We all looked over to see she's moved from her feet to her crotch.  I asked her why she was rubbing herself there and was told,  "It just feels best there."  I looked over at my mom and said, "See!  Even a three-year-old knows it's a vibrator!"

My mom admitted I was right, and started calling it her vibrator, but still left it in the front room anyway.  Which makes for VERY awkward moments when she looks at Ben and asks him to bring her the vibrator every time her neck hurts.  And people wonder why Ben is so weird...

Single-Handedly Supporting The Cyrus Family

Little AK loves Hannah Montana. She’s four, so I mostly refrain from making fun of her. When I got home yesterday there was brown package sitting on my doorstep. I got excited thinking maybe it was something that I had ordered last week for myself. No such luck. It was the singing Hannah Montana doll I ordered for Little AK’s birthday on Saturday, which reminded me I still needed to pick up her Christmas present. While Marky and I were out running errands yesterday I picked up CD for her. Yup, you guessed it, yet another Hannah Montana product.

As I was paying the cashier picked up the CD and said, “This is SUCH a great CD! I just love her music.” “Cool, but it’s not for me. It’s for a friend’s daughter,” I said. “Look lady, a lot of women your age buy this CD. There’s no reason to be embarrassed. It’s really good music.” At this point I was totally annoyed, why would I lie about it? Seriously. I proudly admit to listening to Vanilla Ice and MC Hammer; clearly I have no problem admitting to horrible taste in music. “This music is for kids, it’s not really an adult genre. Can you just ring it up and let me go home please?” Without another word he did just that.

Fast forward to today.

I walk into my office and am just settling in when Ashley walks in and said, “I bought a Hannah Montana song on iTunes. It’s really, really good. You have to listen.” I made fun of her a little bit and then gave it a listen.

And you know what? That stupid cashier was right.

Blue Eyes

Yesterday was Frank Sinatra’s birthday. Ben sent me a text message reminding me, but I didn’t need a reminder. I’ve been in love with Sinatra my entire life. In fact, he’s the first crush I ever had.

My Grandma Leavitt played a lot of big band music when I was little, which explains my love of it. It reminds me of her, and now that she’s gone I really, really like having that reminder. The first time she played a Sinatra song I announced to her I was going to be in love with him forever. From that point on whenever I spent time at her house I wanted to listen to him. I used to put on a dress and sit and listen to his records. When my grandmother asked me why I needed a dress on, I said, “I need to be pretty in case he comes to marry me." And even though he didn't come to marry me, I still listen to his music obsessively all these years later.

My mother bought me the below Frank Sinatra doll a few years ago for Christmas. I love it! In fact if there were a fire in my apartment and I only had time to save a few things I’d save the doll, and my baby blanket. Depending on how much Daisy farted that day I may save her, but chances are the fire would be a direct result from her ass.

IN This Week--The Dating Years--Issue#82

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

Children Don't Lie

Remember this? Hannah certainly does. My brother mentioned that Hannah has started going up to larger women at the mall and telling them she loves their fat butts. Needless to say, he wasn’t too thrilled. I, on the hand, got a good laugh out of it, but then I’m not there dealing with a very angry woman.

Last week when sitting the kids I was running a bath for them and noticed only the boy twin was ready to hop in. I walked into the other room and found Hannah, naked, looking at herself in the full-length mirror. “Hannah, what are you doing? You’re supposed to be getting in the tub with Carter.” “Aunt Sarah, I’m waiting for my butt to grow.”

I laughed and tried to explain to her she had her entire adult life to worry about the size of her butt, and now wasn’t that time. As we walked back into the bathroom together she looked at me and said, “Sarah, I love your big butt the best.”

And because I love her, I didn't drown her in the tub.

And Now with Zero Cavities

My dental hygienist is a lesbian. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but just moments before I disovered her love of women she was telling me she couldn't decide what her to buy her husband for Christmas.

After she finished cleaning my teeth, she stepped into the hallway and started talking to someone. "Oh my god she is cute, and looks great in pink! With those lashes she is simply beautiful." At this point I was certain they weren't talking about me, since I'm in black today-- although I've been told by quite a few men I've dated that my eyelashes are pretty spectacular.

My dentist finished up and as I walked out saw the hygienist holding a baby bundled in pink. I'll admit I was slightly relieved. The last thing anyone needs to get for Christmas is divorce papers.

A Thief Among Us

First my beloved Disney Princess blanket from Marky, and now the Hello Kitty plush toy Little AK gave me for my birthday.  What's next, my laptop?  

Apparently Shrek and I are engaged:

image/jpeg
Sent via CrackBerry

NOT a Cougar

I can't decide to laugh about this, or eat a container of ice cream and cry. A cougar? Seriously, George? Our imaginary cuddle affair is over!

Rest assured little Georgie, if I get married due to your post you can skim 10% off the wedding gifts and money. But stay away from my bridesmaids!

A Night of Balls

Last night I had dinner with Arlo and the AK's. AK made his famous mozza ball soup. Yup, I ate balls for dinner, and in typical sophomoric fashion I giggled through the entire meal.

I showed up in jeans but quickly shed them for a pair of comfy pink pj pants. I'm not in the habit of taking my pj's everywhere, but the AK's are family so it's perfectly acceptable to opt for comfort over cute.

AK was quite concerned when I didn't put my jeans back on to leave. "Sarah, it's snowing out there. If you get in a wreck you will have to go to the hospital wearing that!"He was horrified at the thought. So I did something completely out of character: I drove slow.

The Magic of Christmas

I've decided the best thing about the holiday season isn't the presents, the holiday lights or any of that tender baby Jesus crap; the best thing is manipulation. Something I'm quite fond of, but throw in the Santa factor and it's better then ever!

While watching my niece and nephew this week I was able to witness the miracle of Santa. Kids will do anything if you involve Santa.

"What's that? You don't want to go to Starbucks? Santa just called and said Auntie Sarah HAS to go to Starbucks right this second." The speed in which the kids ran for their coats was spectacular.

"No, you're not wearing cowboy boots to school. Why? Because Santa hates cowboy boots."

"You want chicken nuggets and not the PB& J sandwich I just made? Santa just sent me a text message and said you have to eat the sandwich, or else."

After two days of this the kids finally asked how I know Santa. Clearly the only thing to was lie. I told them Uncle Ben had gone to the North Pole on his mission. Carter piped up and asked if Ben, or Uncle Mean as he calls him, had baptized Santa. I told them Uncle Ben had indeed baptized Santa. They were in awe.

Later when my brother Matt got home Hannah told him that Uncle Ben had tried to kill Santa, which I guess is pretty accurate. Baptism is a lot like downing, only you just get cake after and not a trip in the ambulance.

Poor kiddo, first the Easter Bunny, now Santa? I'm really hoping the Tooth Fairy lives.

Exploding Heart

This morning I awoke to cold feet touching me, specifically my niece Hannah's little, cold feet. (I know, I was hoping for a hot man, too!)

When I asked why she was in bed with me, her answer guaranteed my undying affection for life. "Aunt Sarah I need to be close to you because of all the love in my heart, or it could explode."

Why can't I find a man to say such sweet things to me?!

In Utah This Week--Issue #81

To read this week's column click here! To check out the Slippery Kitten MySpace page go here.

Sometimes Math IS Useful

Last night was cheap beer night at the Grizzlies Game. So we all went. I was late getting there since I have a Tuesday night Math class, but I arrived just in time to hear Ben arguing with the beer vendor.

Beer Vendor: "You can either get a 10 oz. beer for one dollar, or a 32 oz. beer for four dollars. But I recommend you get the larger beer. It's a better deal."

Ben: "Actually that's not true. If I get the small beer I save 2.5 cents per ounce. Trust me, I did the math before I got here."

BV: "But the 32 oz beer is larger therefore you have more beer."

Ben: "Yes, but that's not the point, the point is to save money on beer. That's the whole idea behind cheap beer night. I can buy a large beer at four dollars or four small beers at four dollars. Same amount of money but 8 oz less, which makes zero sense."

At that point the beer vendor stopped talking to him and poured the beers. I guess math really is used in every day life, and here I thought it was a waste of my time.

Jesus Drives a Prius

Sarah: "I decided how you can get Mom & Dad off your back about your hair. Next time they start complaining about how long it is, just tell them grown up Jesus had long hair."

Ben: "It wouldn't' work. I know Dad and he would say something about Jesus walked everywhere and that I never walk anywhere."

Sarah: "That's stupid. Jesus only walked because they didn't have cars. If they did Jesus would've certainly been driving."

Ben: "I wonder what Jesus would have driven."

Sarah: "Obviously a Prius. It just seems like a Jesus kind of car."

Ben: "Really? I don't see it. He probably would just have angels carry him around everywhere. Sorta makes me want to be Jesus."

Sarah: "Maybe you're right, but either way we've turned Jesus into a very lazy man."

Even the Brilliant Sometimes Forget

Jessica: How was the rest of your weekend?

me: Spectacular!

Jessica: Oh really? That's great! Do tell...

me: Ira Glass yesterday=BRILLIANT!

Jessica: Oh, right. My office mate, said the same thing. She has a crush on him.

me: Ditto!

Jessica: What did he talk about?

me: He was great. He played some of the better clips, talked about where he gets show ideas, gave advice on people doing their own documentaries.
BUT, forgot to proclaim his love for me, which was sort of annoying!

Jessica: That happened to me when I went to see Mo Rocca. I thought for sure I was going to become engaged that night. But no. He regaled us with his high kicks, and then went home.

me: People are retarded. Don't they know how fabulous we are?!

Jessica: I don't think they do. I can't speak for Ira, but I'm pretty sure Mo is blinded by his gayness.

me: I think Ira just forgot.

Jessica: He might have had a lot on his mind, what with performing and all. He'll probably call you today to apologize for being such a dork...

me: I've got my phone in my pocket, just in case. It'll happen.

Friday Night Bush

When KCPW announced Jenna Bush would be in town for part of the station's Forum Speaker Series, I mentioned it to Ben. He has a huge crush on both Bush sisters. And while I'm no fan of the Bush family I'm a huge fan of KCPW, so we went.

Bush spoke about her time in South American with UNICEF, reading from the book she wrote about a young woman she met who was born with HIV. During an especially moving moment Ben leaned over and asked, "I think her boobs are probably a C cup. What do you think?"

I hushed him, but it was useless. He didn't listen to a word she said, instead stared at her boobs the entire time--only stopping long enough to tell me her poor-fitting skirt ruined his crush.

On the way home he informed me he'd be spending his time focusing on Barbara from here on out. He then called every family member in his phone to let them know his very liberal sister attended something that could be construed as pro-Bush.