Maximus

My nephew Maximus makes me very happy. There is just something about seeing my nieces and nephew that instantly makes me feel euphoric. I get to see my two nieces just about every day; I am very lucky. Maximus, however, lives in Logan so I don't have the pleasure of hanging out with him as much as I'd like. My sis does a good job updating me on his daily activities, sending me picture messages, and letting him chat with me on Google Chat.

So... here are a few of my favorite picture messages and respective captions:


"King Kong pulled his toy basket over. He says they're in love."

"SOAPASAURUS"

"Self portrait for Aunt Carly"

"Best friends: Sunny & Max"

I have about 200 more photos I could share but I think these pictures adequately convey his deliciousness. I love his laugh, smile, scowl, cleft chin, serious face, fuzzy head, long toes, no bum, spoon thumbs, big blue eyes, scream and on and on and on and on...

Kids are amazing and should be loved everyday. Forever and ever.

I Believe

My fortune from my fortune cookie.
Enough said.

Small Town Politics

I started to be more politically responsible about six years ago, I guess. Growing up in a ultra-conservative town I was pretty much told what to believe, usually in the form of scare tactics and propaganda. This applied to everything: religion, politics, social stereotypes, the world in general... To make matters worse, there was no objective point of view even from the education system. It was completely one-sided as well.

I got involved during the 2004 election, not really because I was madly in love with John Kerry, rather I was terrified for Bush to become the president. (Side note: I did like Howard Dean until he pulled a Beavis and freaked out.) So then came the 2008 election and initially I was 100% behind Hills. I was put off by Obama for a while, mostly because Oprah endorsed him in an elitist and condescending way. Anyway, I digress.

January 20 was, to put it simply, an inspiring day. I had my daughter stay home to watch the inauguration because it's important to me that she experiences REAL LIFE. (And it's total bullshit that they don't broadcast presidential inaugurations in the schools.) To me, it is not just historical because Obama is the first African-American president, or because of all the other "firsts" in the 2008 election, it is historical because it is the first time in my life that I have seen such a demonstration of unity and hope in our country. It was the first time I've felt like our president has spoken genuinely and from his heart. And based on the faces and energy of inauguration day, it seemed everyone unequivocally wants what he is promising. If only for one day, it felt like the people in this country could all relate and get behind the same values and goals. I mean, party affiliations aside, how can you NOT appreciate what this man is willing to do for us?

I hope everyone continues this year in the same spirit. I am going to do what I can in my town to help people realize that hope and confidence isn't instilled within our children by sheltering them and fostering ignorance. People in small towns like mine started stockpiling automatic weapons and guns last week. They acted like they were preparing for the end of the world. And BEFORE the election, here are some REAL quotes from my tiny town:

"If Obama is elected, he's going to kill all the babies."

"If Obama wins, he'll take away our guns and we won't be able to eat."

"Boys will start marrying boys if Obama becomes president."

These quotes came from kids at my daughter's elementary school. She's 12. She and my 8-year-old niece were the only ones who voted for Obama in their mock elections. One little boy in the second grade told my niece that if he ever meets Obama, he's going to "punch him in the nuts". (Do second graders even know what nuts are???) The kids were simply replicating what they had overheard or been told at home.

Our daughters' ideas do not come from my sister and I brainwashing them or telling them how or what to think. I encourage my daughter to be vigilant, to think for herself, to question everything, check her facts, and always use common sense. Trust me, she's learned well. She questions me and makes me answer for everything.

About two years ago I went into my daughter's room; she has an official (and illegal) STOP sign hanging up. On it she had written, in her little nine-year-old handwriting, "BUSH" under STOP. She had drawn peace signs, hearts and sayings about making the world a better place without war. She even threw in an "I love John Kerry." I have never been more proud of her in my life. Okay, actually I have but this experience was right up there.

My point is that she and I had discussed politics minimally. I'm sure she heard a lot of information at school, an ear full from my grandma, and probably some of my opinions. Yet she decided for herself which principles she wanted to support. It was exciting!

And now, I have never been more excited for the future of our country. I really have no words for inauguration day and the emotions it stirred within me. These feelings are new to me, but I AM inspired and excited. It makes me wonder if this is how my grandparents used to feel about the government, the flag, freedom, and liberty. 

Anydamnway, I think Obama is going to rock! The End.

Gag Me With A Song

Today it was confirmed that country music takes everything that sucks and makes it suck worse.

Don't get me wrong, real country music (Johnny Cash, Buck Owens, June Carter, Loretta Lynn--you get the picture) is amazing. Today's "country" music should be called "people-who-couldn't-make-it-in-the-music-industry-who-started-singing-shitty-pop-covers-in-twangy-voices-with-instruments-wearing-horrible-outfits" music(1). It's the worst.

So today I was wandering around the house and I heard a foul sound coming from the T.V. It was familiar. I walked in, started watching, was horrified and had to run to the bathroom and throw up. (Okay, so I am really hungover but still...) It's some wretched "country" band called Sugarland covering a song at the CMT Music Awards. Anyway, you'll have to watch it for yourself. I can't think about it any more.



*I couldn't find the actual CMT Awards performance but I doubt you'll make it through the whole thing anyway. It's gross.
'Life In A Northern Town' was original sang by Dream Academy in the 80's. It was pretty gross then, too.

References
(1) Hootie, formerly of Hootie and the Blowfish

c r a c k i n e s s

you know how they say if a person loses one of their five senses, they experience a heightened awareness in one of the others? yea, well, i don't know much about that but i do know that since i haven't been using my brain for anything productive, it is thinking in overdrive. i think that i may be on the brink of insanity. no, really. same thing goes for tolerance. since i don't go out in public as much anymore, i have become ridiculously irritated when i do. it makes me hate people, if i'm being perfectly honest.

when some lady with five kids and a blank stare on her face cuts in front of me or yells at one of her kids, i want to slap her face off her head.

the cashier picks at her teeth; i want to kick her in the shin.

people who say, "Huh?" loudly and ignorantly; stab them in the eye.

people who gossip; pour acid all over them.

stare at me; head butt.

if i was filling my brain with more work, music, exercise, conversations or mexico, i wouldn't notice how annoying people are. or maybe if i didn't have someone constantly talking to me and telling me what to do ....all....effing....day....long.... i might not be as irritable. it's getting close to crazy around here. i need alone time immediately. otherwise, my eyes will slowly gloss over and i will never be the same again.

Crazed Grammy

I am pretty sure that my grandma has been possessed by a demon. She has been talking nonstop for the last six hours. I took her to the bank, the grocery store, and KFC today. There was an incident at the grocery store over toilet paper that was supposed to be on sale. I don't remember the details because I think I was having a brain aneurism, but it involved the '15 Items or Less' line and a rain check.

Now that Grandma can't drive, I have become her personal slave. Ok, I was her slave before but now it's worse.

Here is a live feed of her ramblings. Keep in mind there is no real interaction with others. This just goes on and on and on and on and on...

"Mehmet, you're not doing very well tonight. Jocey! Last time we had 40 points. Or 30 something I guess. Good shot boys. It's about time you do something. You guys. (Unidentified growling sound.) Anybody want a little drink of eggnog or are they too full? Huh? I know. You're supposed to have that before. Where you going with that cup? Oh, okay. You sure are cute. You sure look cute since Chloe bathed you and combed your hair. Just for a second. Thirteen. Is it seven o'clock yet? Oh. Hey that's a dog's bone. That child. They had the ugliest people on last night that I've ever seen. There's little Archuleta. Is that the doorbell? That's what the dog says I guess. Oh, they're such pesty people. Just because I want to watch American Idol or the ballgame. Sunny. (Insert a big bite of coleslaw.) This don't taste like their coleslaw. (With her mouth still full.) Are they better tonight? Oh I meant to pick up those plates and I didn't do it. Oh well. I'll get 'em. Gosh, my nose is running like a damn sieve..."

Tomorrow I get to take her to Seniors, pick her up, and then take her to a doctor appointment. Because, as she put it to a friend, "Carly doesn't have anything better to do. She'll run me around."

I love my grandma but I do have something better to do. I have lots of somethings better I could be doing, and probably should be doing. For example, I could be saving what's left of my sanity. I could be getting a master's degree. I could be traveling, working, writing, volunteering, paying my bills, exercising... but, dammit, I love her. I am a big softy. She has an evil side, that much I'm sure of, but she's my grammy. I don't know how else to explain it.

Long Island Iced Tea

Last night there was a really great show in the city with a collaboration of 20+ local musicians. One of my favorite localites, Will Sartain, led the group and sang vocals. Dependent on over twenty different instruments playing at any one time, the music was unbelievably harmonic. The stage was loaded with talent; the heavy sound of multiple guitars vibrated throughout the lounge as keyboards and drums pounded along. I kind of expected the vocals to be somewhat washed out but Will's voice came through quite clearly. It was a rare experience and it totally rocked!


It was a hard act to follow and Teen Wolf did himself no favors by trying to do so. It was entertaining nevertheless. I sometimes wish that I lived downtown so I could sit in dark corners and listen to live music every night. Sigh.

Here are some other cool people who have good taste in music:

a random bearded man:

megarific:

the boy:

Groom Flip Flop

Ok. Here are three issues I need to address. With myself.

1. Cadillac from Unicorn Planet does exist. I met him in person last night. He was the most adorable unicorn I have ever met...and sad, just like his unicorn persona. And I loved him with all my heart. He was REAL drunk by the end of the night. But no amount of alcohol could have made me not like him. His stories, his dancing, his incessant apologies about being too drunk, his eyeliner, his slurred speech. I thought it was adorable. His crew and our crew had a great time. Cadillac had such an amazing spirit about him and you could see it in his eyes. So today when I was brushing my teeth and wiping off last night's smeared eyeliner, I thought, "Hey! It's not really that big of a deal if you get a little tipsy from time to time." Would it get old? Maybe. But little Cadillac was adorable. I would hang out with him again. So he was having a bad night. I didn't judge him. It was kind of endearing. My point is that I am not the a-hole, people. I might even slur my speech from time to time. It shouldn't be a deal breaker! Someone out there probably maybe even thinks it's adorable.

2. Do NOT mix irish car bombs and Thai food. It gives you pee butt. Bad.

3. I went out to dinner tonight with a friend. He asked me to go and I didn't pay so I guess it was a date. Anydamnway, whatever it was, it was very nice and grownupish. I was 26 minutes late. I drank exactly two martinis and ate delicious food. And I was home by 11:30 p.m. The night included great conversation and good times. I didn't blurt out anything too ridiculous or spill beer on myself or get in a fight or light off any fire crackers or act like an ass or spit on anyone or fall down or pass out. It reminded me of myself, the girl who reads, writes, thinks, plans, learns, feels and likes talking to people. In conclusion, there should be more nights like tonight versus complete black outs (see number one above).

First Dip

I am still not sure how this whole blogging thing is supposed to work. I am totally blown away by how many people do it. It kind of freaks me out, having my history posted online.

Usually my personal writing consists of scribbles in various notebooks, mostly just incomplete sentences and random lists. For example, today I would have jotted down something like this:

Woke up--didn't want to.
Went to lunch with my favorite cousins. Hot and sour soup was the best.
Was jealous of how well my cousin gets along with her grown daughters.
Thought about how weird they think it is that I don't really talk to my mom. They think it is weirder than it feels.
Drove up the canyon and took pictures.
Ate pizza.
Counted my grandma sneezing 15 times in a row.
Got pictures developed.
Listened to public radio. (Note: do that more often.)
Wondered what someone feels like right before they go crazy.
Concluded that sometimes love feels really empty.
Looked at pictures.
Debated digital cameras vs. 35 mm film.

So is this what people want to read? Is this what I am suppose to blog about? I doubt it. Although the pictures I took turned out really awesome:

That's Not Normal

I have a hard time listening to most people talk. Not because I hate people, rather I find the subjects they are talking about incredibly boring. I watch their lips move but if nothing audibly interesting comes out in the first thirty seconds, I am out. My mind immediately wanders and begins visualizing what the person talking would look like without eyeballs or a neck. But there is good news for my friends: it's not you, it's me. 

I live most intensely in my mind and I don't like to share my life publicly. (I am anxious about being criticized because obviously, that's what I do.) But when I do tell my stories, they are prettay, prettay interesting. Even a mediocre trip to the grocery store seems fascinating to most. Don't get me wrong, there are those who probably think what I have to say is worthless, even trite. Still, I am estimating that 4 out of 10 people think it is totally awesome. All I mean to say is that I don't think other people are dull after all. Stories about dogs chewing furniture or hitting the snooze button three times in a row are hilarious!

That said, I would like to apologize to some for seeming indifferent in the past. I am not. It's just that I have a high ratio of anomalies in my base line. I have also decided to start sharing my experiences, at the risk of being exposed, if only to spark laughter, an intriguing conversation, or acceptance of someone in your life who is not 'normal'.