Not if, but when

I know the day will come when women are treated fairly and equally. I hope my daughters are part of that movement. Still, the biggest question I have is why aren't women treated equally? When did it all start? Who made it okay? I won't go off on this topic, but it's something to think about. Maybe we should seek restitution or something.

beavers, politics, and lockouts

over the last week and a half, Lu has decided that her bed time is from 10pm to 12am with party time starting at 1am and lasting until 6am, which is when i have to wake up. as a result, i have been getting very little sleep and am totally sleep deprived. missing four or five nights of sleep makes me crazier than usual. last night i thought i saw a real live beaver dart across my bedroom. you know when the hallucinations start, it's getting serious.

i have tried to write but since my brain can't even figure out what day it is, there have been many failed attempts and several pages being written and then deleted. just crap. but i have been super productive in other ways. for example, i have caught up on some awesome Facebook action. it's prime time for some good reading thanks to the upcoming election. it blows my mind what people think and have no problem saying in a public forum.

i have genuinely tried to avoid posting anything about politics because, well, first of all, it's setting myself up for a barrage of insults from angry republicans; and second of all, i would much rather post about hard hitting issues like ice cream and oil changes. THAT SAID ... i did post two incredibly long essays in response to comments made on my mother's page and my sister's page because the dialogue was almost as disturbing as seeing a 400 lb, extremely hairy, blind man sitting on my toilet (another sleep deprivation hallucination). i just can't believe that people are so ignorant and quick to blurt out things they've heard on tv with the intent of insulting someone else.

for example, my little sister had to have an emergency root canal and her insurance hasn't kicked in yet. somehow that turned into one of her "friends" in the military criticizing her. huh?

"nothing like going to the dentist at 7am and finding out you have to have a root canal. and with no insurance."

how is that perceived as any kind of political statement or invitation to discuss politics? it sparked some of the stupidest things i've ever heard a grown man say and TRUST ME, i've heard a lot of men say some REALLY stupid things. and not just stupid, but bitter and mean.

the other one? some 50 year old lady on my mom's wall called Obama "Owe-Butt-Wad" in her very intelligent tirade regarding Kool Aid drinkers and God. and blah blah blah. what in the hell? people aren't even talking about the fundamentals anymore. it's all about "you're an asshole because you don't agree with me" and "you're a lazy piece of crap because you don't have health insurance." it is annoying and it makes me want to ram my car into the house.

i also wrote a very insightful piece on college football in the state of Utah and how awesome it will be to watch USU beat BYU next week. this is all very exciting stuff that happens in the middle of the night. what else? oh, i bought a mini van on ksl.com, and i played some kick ass games of scrabble. so, not all bad.

in other news, i am happy to be the first to report that the NFL has finally reached an agreement with the locked-out officials. a few hours ago, the deal was made and officials will be back for tonight's games. so that's pretty sweet. anyway, that's all i got. i'm going to see if i can get this vampire baby to go to sleep. my next post will probably focus on the rise and fall of Vince Young. or oppression in the workplace. i haven't decided.

i'm not a unicorn

this post is about the chimera of chivalry. and it's going to be all over the place...

i went to the Walmarts tonight because i was long overdue to buy a lawnmower. i hated doing it but i couldn't find a decent lawn service and i was over borrowing lawn mowers and Sears didn't have the one i wanted and Home Depot was confusing ... etc etc. (enthralling, right.) anydamnway, i paid for a lawnmower online and went to pick it up. they had it ready; a ginormous box balancing on a tiny shopping cart: "here you go."

i guess i had been staring for some time at the teetering box because the sales rep finally interrupted my musing of possible catastrophic events that would ensue getting the box to my car, let alone home. you know, the box falling off the cart, parts shattering everywhere, a blade taking my right leg off, regretting not buying the extra Protection Plan.

"does that look like the right one?" Chotchie asked.

"yeah. heh. i mean, now if i can just get it home and figure out how to put it together," i answered. really? these things don't come assembled?

"ah, i bet it's not that hard." thanks for the encouragement, Chotchie.

i managed to get the damn thing to my car, in my car, and i managed to get the beast home. i even managed to put it together. the technical writing in the owner's manual was ridiculous but i carefully put the correct oil in, filled it with gas, i choked and throttled, and i mowed the lawn. but i did some thinking as i mowed and i got really annoyed.

what in THE hell is wrong with people? okay, i was wearing a wife beater and cut off jean shorts. and yes i did have dirt all over myself from gardening. i didn't look my best; i'm actually a little embarrassed by my hair situation even for Walmarts, but what in the fuck? i am 110 lbs. and i am a lady. and even if i was 310 lbs. or a lady with a mustache, at least give me the "respect your elder" card.

the way i was taught, this is how it should have gone down:

"here you are. let me get someone to help you out to your car with this. in fact, if you'll pull your car around back, we can load it right away" Chotchie would say.

"oh, why thank you! i was wondering how i was going to roll it out of the store. i sure hope i can figure out how to put it together," i would reply.

Chotchie would look appalled and exclaim, "why, a sweet little lady like you shouldn't put a lawnmower together, let alone lift it alone! you make your husband do it. or, i'd be happy to assemble it for you right here if you'd like?"

i realize it's not the Ritz Carlton but come on.

this issue whole issue of how men view women has been surfacing a lot lately. and it's not necessarily about chivalry, it's about common courtesy, respect, innate goodness. here are two more examples.

boardroom at my office for company-wide meeting: 25 chairs. 18 filled by men (most under 27) and 7 by women. and at least 10 women standing up or sitting on THE FLOOR. (this had happened before at a pizza party where i sat on the floor in a skirt and was a little taken aback.) this time, i sent my boss a text: "18 guys in chairs out of 25. disgusting." of course he didn't respond and i'm sure he hates me now for being such a "feminist." but then again, he was one of the men sitting down.

second example: talking to some guys about the issue. can't remember how it came up. something about opening doors for women. and i open doors for men. i don't really feel strongly about it. i also would offer my seat on a bus, in a crowded room, in the park for someone older than me, male or female. anyway, one of the guys said, "listen, you can't have it both ways. you can't have your independence and all these rights AND be treated like that. you have to pick one." i asked him what he meant by independence and all "these rights". he said "things like, being paid the same as men, holding top positions in companies, having someone take care of you..." i burst out laughing. i found this interesting because last time i checked women DON'T and NEVER HAVE been paid as much as men for the same positions; we don't hold nearly as many executive roles; we aren't taken seriously nor are we respected; and i pay all my bills, support both my daughters alone, do all the yard work, change the oil in my car, cook, clean, AND put together a freaking lawn mower. i don't bitch about not having a door opened or a guy expecting me to pay for a dinner he invited me to, and i STILL don't get a motherloving seat in the boardroom. (is it contradictory to say that i didn't really want one nor would have i accepted one, i just wanted it to be offered? to other ladies even?)

i thought about my grandpa. he taught me about hard work. he taught me how to farm, get up early, take care of myself, and work my ass off. but he also taught me how a lady should be treated. he treated my grandma like a queen. she was a hard worker, but every dinner she cooked, every contribution she offered the house, every bed she washed and made, was appreciated. and she never paid for a meal, opened her door, or was insulted without my grandpa knocking someone out.

i don't know the answer. i don't know if i just live in the wrong place ... maybe the wrong era? and i know there are good guys out there. but it seems like we are getting farther and farther away from the beauty of what makes men good and women gentle. it makes me sad. while i put my lawnmower together, i just knew my grandpa was whispering, you're tough, you deserve better but you are happy, be lucky you can do it alone. i love you.

Five Things I Need

1. Love letters with just the right amount of sentiment.

2. Kisses with no ulterior motive or simultaneous boob grab.

3. Alone time.

4. Someone who appreciates me instead of competing with me.

5. To be treated like a lady; doors opened, compliments; dates; occasional flowers; thoughtful gifts; protection.

big ideas

big ideas? i have them.
i'm full of them.
one big burst that carries me for a couple of days (maybe weeks) and then ...
no follow through.
some might say it's a flaw but i am more inclined to say it's a beautiful childlike quality that i refuse to let go of.
one day, all the scribbled notes, stacks of books, papers, drawings, scraps, and pictures will come together.
it's just not my time yet.
we're still in the swell season.

if the irony isn't too much, wait for it.

Vanilla

during my junior year in high school my journal was stolen by some boys from the next city over. it was passed around their high school and eventually returned to me. i didn't notice it had been taken until i got it back; according to my calculations they had it for two solid weeks. two weeks taking turns reading about my life from 6th grade to 11th. and since i hung out with them so much, there were very specific details about some of them. and even more details about my friends and family. all high school girls write about drama, boys, suicide, making out to Journey, annoying friends, and insecurities ... right? all of them? their deepest darkest innermost secrets ...

it made me embarrassed. it made me kinda sick. i thought they were horrible to take such a personal thing from a "friend". but i didn't make a big deal out of it and it didn't really change the course of my life. looking back, i am actually surprised how little i cared.

so maybe that explains why i don't feel too exposed writing about myself in a blog. what could be worse? if my fragile, insecure teen self can handle it, and people want to read it ... it's not like i'm going to be running for president any time soon. plus all the juicy stuff is hidden in obscure blogs behind a pen name.

jk. lol. hi. hop in.

when i stop writing, i stop processing. the words just rattle around in my head. writing is therapy for me and if no one ever read or commented on this blog, i'd continue to do it. it's my journal. and millions of others'. recently i have been struggling to write simple copy at work; even one sentence to let customers know a product is out of stock has become a tedious, ten minute process. we're sorry, we regret to inform, due to the high demand, due to the great success, important product update ... every word is over analyzed and it is forced and dry. there is no flow to it. and now the same can be said for my personal ramblings. when you stop doing something, it eventually falls further out of reach.

however if all those thoughts, epiphanies, lessons, and ideas are forced to cycle through my brain without being compartmentalized and jotted down, they get stuck, grow stale, and begin attaching themselves to the inside of my skull. and then i just disconnect.

the same thing happens when we have a catastrophe in our lives, when someone we love passes away, or our hearts are broken. in a few months time, it doesn't seem like it's that bad (it can't get any worse); it doesn't hurt as much (it just hurts); we don't miss them every second (maybe it's every five).  and then after a few more months, the details get cloudy and time becomes a big garbage disposal. instead of piecing it back together or untangling the rat's nest, there are those times in life to just start over.

what i'm trying to say is i am not going to be too hard on myself because i can't piece together any meaningful posts. i have to clean out the cobwebs to get to the good stuff.

oh yeah, i picked up hitchhikers for the first time in my life last week. it wasn't too bad.

five months, fourth of july & fires

five months.

five months without so much as one word on my neglected little blog.

'tis not for lack of ambition. not for lack of profound thoughts. not for lack of dysfunctional episodes that would be debilitating if they weren't comical. no, there is plenty of material -- more than ever.

it took me being inspired by a captivating, guileless writer (who, incidentally, has a new tattoo that is the first i've ever wanted an exact replica of on my body) to decide to blog my heart out.

so you can look forward to a thrilling post about the fact that i have NOT seen Magic Mike yet; i will elaborately mourn the recent death of Matlock; you can most likely expect a blistering rant about my (former) favorite NBA player Steve Nash disgracing his name, legacy, family, and fans by signing with the Lakers; and i might even throw in an essay about why i feel so blasé and discouraged about the current state of affairs in our country.

all nail biting commentary, without question.

that's it. actually, it's not. just one more thing ....

i would like to publicly express my appreciation to all the firefighters combating the numerous wildfires throughout the West, especially in Utah. these brave men and women are working around the clock, sacrificing their lives, to protect our homes and communities. my thoughts and prayers are with you as well as others who have been affected. i don't know, and i am guilty as well, if we truly understand how hard firefighters are physically working for us.

pause.

so why so many fires anyway? what gives?

according to a local news source, officials believe that over 21 wildfires in Utah have been started by gun use. ooooh, of course, people shooting their guns on a lazy afternoon for lack of anything better to do.

so here it is, from me to those of you who live in utah (the 6th safest state in the US) who continue shooting your guns like renegades:
yes, you have the right to bear arms. i have no problem with you exercising your second amendment right. HOWEVER, when you are firing your gun for no real reason in a non-designated shooting area; when you are recklessly disregarding the safety protocol and rules you agreed to when you received your license; when you or your buddy thinks that you don't need to follow the rules or go to the gun range to shoot; or maybe when you hear on the news that gun use is causing MOST of the devastating wildfires in our state ... STOP. stop shooting your gun and being a ignorant jerk.

careless gun use IS endangering people, killing wildlife, destroying public lands, damaging homes and property, and forcing families to evacuate their homes. isn't it simple? just stop shooting your gun unless it's a matter of life and death. i was appalled to read that gun rights activists, upon hearing reports that gun use had caused at least 21 utah fires, defended their rights instead of working towards a solution or showing any compassion for those in danger. clark aposhian, chairman of the utah sports shooting council, immediately rallied to make sure legislators wouldn't ban guns or ammunition ... um, how about your rally to educate the mindless idiots causing the problem or to help those who have no place to live thanks to your edacity.  REALLY?

let me throw this out there: let's say there is even a slight chance that gun use did indeed cause 21 fires and could potentially cause more. isn't it worth it or common sense to INDEPENDENTLY set aside your gun slinging hobby, without the government or anyone else telling you to do so? and then maybe when the 800,000 acres that are burning in our country are contained, you can hit the range again? where is the harm in that?

you're worried about your "right" to have and shoot your gun? worry about your fellow man! does he have a right to protect himself from you? think about your communities, people's homes, animals, lives that are being destroyed. be a part of the solution. i feel sad that there are individuals in our society have lost sight of looking out for each other out of pure selfishness.

anyway, take it for what it's worth. happy independence day!

scratch scratch scratch

let me in.

 no.

let me in.

nooo.

 it's me. old age. creeping in. you let me in!

Corduroy
by Pearl Jam

The waiting drove me mad... you're finally here and I'm a mess
I take your entrance back... can't let you roam inside my head
I don't want to take what you can give... I would rather starve than eat your bread...
I would rather run but I can't walk...
Guess I'll lie alone just like before...
I'll take the varmint's path...
oh, and I must refuse your test
A-push me and I will resist...
this behavior's not unique
I don't want to hear from those who know...
They can buy, but can't put on my clothes...
I don't want to limp for them to walk...
Never would have known of me before...
I don't want to be held in your debt...
I'll pay it off in blood, let I be wed...
I'm already cut up and half dead...
I'll end up alone like I began...
Everything has chains...
absolutely nothing's changed
"Take my hand, not my picture," spelled my T-shirt
I don't want to take what you can give...
I would rather starve than eat your breast...
All the things that others want for me...
Can't buy what I want because it's free...
Can't buy what I want because it's free...
Can't be what you want because I'm...
Why ain't it sposed to be just fun
Oh, to live and die, let it be done
I figure I'll be damned, all alone like I began...
It's your move now...
I thought you were a friend, but I guess I, I guess I hate you..

hell hath frozen over

2012 is definitely a New Year.
it is a good year. a better year.
it has already been a year of many firsts.

(so what if it's only been a month! cut me some slack.)

first time i've had resolutions and stuck to them. first year i've been easier on myself. first time i've dated a "nice" guy. first time i've been dumped. first time i've rocked a mullet. first year i've been real about stuff. first year i've loved cooking. first year i've considered botox. first time i've been this awesome.

from that list, the cooking part probably shocks us all the most.

i have cooked and actually really loved it. and loved what i've made. and others have loved what i've made. (well, one little lady did gag on my crock pot creation but ... )

on that note, here is what's up for Super Bowl Sunday and reason number 101 i'm excited for the game.

stuffed mushrooms
boneless chicken wings
sliders
seven-layer dips
homemade alfredo
parmesan garlic bread balls
Coctel de Camarones con Salsa Tomatillo

oh hell, just look here if you need the details.

the point of it all is simply that you should never say never. i am not really sure what sparked this newfound love, oh wait, yes, it was the vodka gummy bears recipe i found ... that's exactly where it all started. nevertheless, it's just really something!

last night, The Teenager actually said, "ugh, i've got to leave the kitchen. i'm starving and everything smells so good!"

who knows? maybe the Mayans are right after all.

Super Bowl XLVI

in 30 seconds, reasons 1 through 100 why i am watching the super bowl this year ...

math is more fun than ben

staying consistent with my lofty goals for 2012, i pledge to blog only about all things bright, new, and shiny. and serious. new, important things that will provide insight for all of mankind. topics dedicated to a cause. things i believe in. words formed together in sentences to make the world a better place.

to that end, i would like to talk about this travesty: The Bachelor.

holy jesus.

undoubtedly the biggest waste of time this year was the one hour or so i spent watching this week's episode. clearly people have lost their damned minds. this show, or at least this season of the show, is just unbelievably lame. this show -- "this show" being The Bachelor -- well, anyone contributing to it should be ashamed for using electricity (even solar-powered electricity ) to produce it. i know it isn't intended to be a psychological thriller or hard hitting documentary, but what? The Bachelor has no entertainment value whatsoever.

in all truthfulness, i am pretty sure i enjoyed the show (it's hard for me to even type the name, it is) a few years ago when it was somewhat interesting. i mean, don't get me wrong, it's no Temptation Island but even i enjoy mindless entertainment from time to time. anydamnway, i knew someone who was purportedly on it this season so innocently enough, i decided to DVR it. i sure did. fortunately (for her) she is not around on the episode i caught; apparently she escaped the possibility of becoming Bachelor Ben's future bride earlier in the season. unfortunately (for me) it was painful to watch.

first of all, this Ben guy? he's a complete dipshit.

question: does he always look this confused?

answer: yes.

question: is it annoying?

answer: yes.

in real life, this guy probably can't get one date. now he has sixteen or so crying about how they have "fallen for him" every night. that's totally real. and he has no redeeming qualities. he's not cute, he's not charismatic, he's not especially intelligent, and he's not funny, quirky, or tall. and of course he falls for the biggest skank in the group: some bitchy model who has an "f-list" of the girls she hates. it's almost like a G-rated version of Rock of Love without Bret Michaels, bandannas, or interesting females. no creepy eyeliner. no barfing at the dinner table. nothing. just nothing.

how does this happen? how does every girl fall in love with Ben? where do all the rejected girls come up with those tears? how is it that none of them have ever donkey punched the bitchy model? how do they find sponsors to keep this show on air? maybe that's why Ben looks confused all the time ... maybe he's just enjoying the free booze and getting some ass. because he can. why not? good for you.

i kept waiting. i kept waiting for it to get more interesting. and it just didn't. all i wanted was one girl to say, yeah, i don't see it. i don't have feelings for him. no matter how much i drink, or even, shit! ANOTHER cold sore?pass the Valtrex.

there is no depth to the souls of these people. no real conversations. nothing that isn't completely expected or superficial or stupid. no crazy saxophone player or ventriloquist. it's just horrifically dull. 

huh. so this is what happens on the first day of being unemployed? terrifying.

The Need to Know

one of my goals over the past couple of months was to let go of my incessant need to know. i have always been compelled to seek the reasons for, or truth about, motives, events, or actions of people. not because i want a juicy scoop or to validate myself, but just to understand shit.

i consider myself an understanding person, forgiving to a fault, so it makes me curious when people keep things from me. maybe i see myself as something i'm not? maybe i'm not approachable. maybe i over-react and people would rather avoid a conversation with me altogether because they think i'm going to unleash on them.

this innate need to know, well, it's not a bad trait to have when doing market research or making a decision about having a body part removed. it can be helpful when negotiating business deals. but i am not naturally inclined to explore the deep, dark truth behind the reason the SEC eliminated and then reinstated the uptick rule. i don't even care what was in the 50 cinnamon gummy hearts i just ate.

my curiosity is obviously romanticism-based; i'm not always searching for logic or absolute realism.

for example, i'd like to know why out of five siblings, i am the only one who doesn't need glasses or contacts. and i am not talking about understanding the genetic probability (it's 75% if both parents carry the gene) or the implications of refractive errors -- i want to know whether my parents ate something weird on the night i was conceived; if it's because no one pointed a flashlight directly into my eyes when i was little; if all my kin masturbated too much; if my sister knocked my occipital lobe into overdrive when we cracked skulls that one time ... i am not complaining, i don't want corrective lenses. it's just interesting to me.

anyway, i digress. often people perceive my need to know as my need to be right. this is the biggest misconception people have about me. i don't need to be right nor do i need scientific evidence about something. i just need to know intention and thought-processes. in fact, a lot of times, i would prefer to be wrong about questions i have or the motives of others. i often hope i am not right. others perceive my need to know as annoying or skeptical, or they think i am going to use the information against them in some way. not true either. well, why? why do you want to know? because. i want to know. why do you ask? because i'm curious. why not?

maybe my need to know has spilled over into the unhealthy category because sometimes i obsess about why mentally ill people or sociopaths do crazy things. there is no explanation, outside of a neurological defect or diagnosis that i am not qualified to understand. still, i wonder. what are they thinking? when did they start thinking that way? did they know they were going crazy?

i wish i could dismiss instead of analyze but more often than not, it's because i have a physical reaction about something that catapults my brain into a spinning top. i am driven by intuition and physical sensations that result in my search for some kind of answer or resolution. i've always just considered it a "gut feeling" or a "vibe." and it's not a bad thing. sometimes acting on these feelings result in great things. other times, i wish i would have acted on them instead of suppressing them.

i want to learn new things, i want to see things from a new perspective, i want to understand, i want to know if people think the same way i do, i want to know if it's normal, i want to know why some people are detached, i want to know why some people find peace, i need to know why i interpret things completely opposite than others. that's it. is that the kind of curiosity that killed the cat? ok, so maybe i don't need to know why Tim Tebow thinks it's okay to have a giant head, wear terrible fashion, and brag about why Jesus loves him so much more than everyone else. i can accept that i'll never understand him.

i guess i can tone it down and at least focus my interest on situations that are a good use of my energy or can benefit someone. i'll try. but i still believe that there is credence in the saying, the truth will set you free. or maybe that's a big fat lie and i've been chasing after something that doesn't even really exist. i mean, the truth changes every second. what was true yesterday isn't necessarily true today. so maybe there is no truth. why do people believe that? and is it okay for them ... ah. shoot. man, old habits die hard.

2012 coming in hot!

best text messaging this year. maybe ever.

Dear carly,
Are you alive?

Dear Bethie,
I am alive.
Let's jive.
Happy New Year.
How's your beaver?
Xoxo
Carlos

Would love to jive
Happy new year back
I hear you have a new rack
beaver appears dead
Xoxo, Bethy