Wednesday Giggles

I really don't have any particular reason why I love this guy aside from the fact that I could watch the same set over and over again and still laugh.

Maybe its how much he reminds me of friends from high school. Down to the DTs

Proper Schagrins

I don't think we ever really leave high school.

They kick us out before we get a chance to resolve much of anything. It's just this big angst filled hole of questions, possibilities, hormones, bad clothes and beautiful moments with some pom poms and trophies thrown in for good measure.

I had a teacher there who was amazing. He was smart, well adjusted, a non-bureaucrat and had this way of talking to us like adults that I really appreciated.

Since he was such a good guy they gave him the honors track of kids so we got to spend a good amount of time together. My band also jammed in his office after hours (he was a pretty cool teacher) so we got a chance to chat a lot. We knew he loved his honors kids but he always kind of made fun of us. He called us drama queens and "reactionary" because of the All-Or-Nothing mentality we somehow managed to create and propagate in our over-anxious group think. He would sit back and laugh at how high strung we would get about tests and projects ie G.A.T.E. Syndrome.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Definition:
G.A.T.E Syndrome - thinking that one flaw in the mix will damn you to a lifetime of manual labor and life in the gutter.

Or what my mother calls "Clearing away the wreckage of your future"

Example:
**this is a direct quote from a conversation I had with a classmate before an AP Bio exam in 10th grade. Imagine a stressed out Chinese girl who hasn't eaten for 2 days in mid-histerics and speaking at mach 2.**

"If I don't get a good grade on this test then I will get a low GPA and if I don't have a perfect GPA then I won't get into a good college and then I won't get a good job and I'll have to ask for change in the gutter to get by and take my meals at the Salvation Army."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I shared the views of my teacher for the most part. I never really felt my life was on the line with every test or project. But after him bringing it to light with such candor and seeing such gross evidence of it all around me, I resolved to be a bit more checked when it came to big tests and projects, to perspective, and not fixate on grades. My mantra from then has been "It's what I learn, not the marks I get" and I've been very loyal to it. There was a class in college where I was given an A and all I did was be the talkative person my professor wanted but I didn't learn a thing so I retook the class, got a B and felt much better about life.

But apparently October is the season for departures of rational thinking.

I got my midterm back and I passed and passed well. I didn't lead the class, and I didn't expect to, but my grade immediately left me feeling very foolish about how worried I was about it. I know there were a lot of prayers and positive thoughts going out for and to me because I have a marvelous group of people that love me and that were beautifully patient with my GATE Syndrome relapse - because that's exactly what it was.

Like most things - I am going to be OK.

A bit shook up, and given a reminder that I have to actually try this time around and not phone it in, but I'm OK. I'm still breathing and I'm not going to flunk out of college and become a Meter Maid that lawn bowls on the weekend and watches Bridges of Madison County once a week.

Not yet at least. We'll see how Grad School treats me.

For today, right now, I'm OK - and suddenly missing my band mates from high school. We did a mean Buffalo Springfield cover - let me tell ya.

Off the Radar

So just to make things more fun -
My phone is officially dead. The screen doesn't work and everything else froze. No texting for a while. Or calling for that matter.
*sigh*

Do you think All State sells Bad Luck or October Insanity Insurance?

Stars and Tards

So the last 72 hours has moved me to give out some awards. It’s been an exceptional time for me and some of the key players deserve recognition.

Ladies and Gentleman!!!

I give you my Stars and Tards Awards

STARS

552,448 BIG Gold Stars to: My Brother

I don't think a Superman cape and John Williams theme music would do justice to the contributions he has made to my sanity. Not only did he perform like a champ when I came to the house after work looking to have a good cry with my mother after my midterm trauma only to find her out and on a date with my father. So he got to catch his sister in a very rare 30 minute long ugly cry break down of weeping and gushing emotion and frustration and he met it with grace. After a few cups of tea and telling me that he'll never stop loving me even if I do become the meter maid that my Grammar teacher is bent on reducing me to. But a few hours later he left the comforts of his Elder's quorum Halo party to come be with his sister who was sitting alone in her broken into and rampaged apartment and needed a computer because some thieving douche bags had stolen hers (along with some checks, a bank card, some jewelry, and the extra keys to her apartment and car, not to mention sense of security). So 16 minutes later he showed up, laptop in hand with cords slung around his shoulder like the Do-Gooding warrior that he is and stayed with me as the police dusted my place for finger prints. Then when he was exhausted he still made sure I made it to the Parent’s all right, pumped up my air mattress and made sure I had clean pillow cases. Yay for being related to a Strippling Warrior.

550, 258 Gold Stars to: My Parents
for busting out every ounce of affection and comfort their sleepy and devote hearts could give within in seconds of "Dad - don't freak out. I'm ok - I just wanted to tell you I'm spending the night here. Yeah - see...." including a massive Mary Tyler Moore Finale group hug to stop the tears and restore some kind of security in my life. My mom had me giggling within 15 minutes and my dad was online ordering me a new Dell. They are rockstars in every sense of the word. Dad even knew to have flowers and Tofutti Cuties ready the next day.

1,258 Gold Stars to: Neighbor man Brett
for 1) being born 2) being my neighbor and 3) replacing my locks because Maintenance Man was out of town and Apartment Manager Lady was freaking out even though he had plans to go to the Getty and treated me to Peruvian food with the guilt money Apartment Manager Lady gave him for doing Maintenance Man's job. Few would step up to the task. Thanks for helping me start to piece my sanity back together. And for the pollo saltado.

857 Gold Stars to: Officer Garcia and his Partner
For eventually showing up at my place and taking everything so seriously and properly dusting for prints and being so patient with my I’ve seen too many cop shows and still secretly want to join the FBI attempt at criminology vernacular as I answered their questions – “well I think this was the point of entry”… And thank you for coming back when I noticed something else and taking all of it seriously then too. Giving me your cell phone numbers so I wouldn’t have to go through dispatch again was also very considerate. I’m glad you’re both on The Force. Seriously. Not a single Hot Fuzz quote came to mind.

514 Gold Stars to: Liz W
For being thirsty and being up, hearing voices, seeing the police patrolling my place, and being worried about me. It meant a lot. I love having neighbors that are friends as well. I still might take you up on that air mattress offer if my imagination gets the best of me a night or two.

300 Gold Stars to: Kimbo
For not even blinking an eye or finding out what happened before she offered me a TV in case mine was stolen and just being a generally amazing person.

174 Gold Stars to: Nastia
For spending the night at my place with me and helping me party like its 1999 and letting me forget about the trauma of the previous 36 hours

175 Gold Stars to: NaToya and the rest of my Fellow Season Fairies
For having one of the awesomest Halloween parties EVER!!! And especially Toya for slaving away for the last 3 months to design, make, embroider, fit, refit costumes, make wings, do hair and make up and still have homemade chocolate chip cookies to boot, a DJ to jam out to and the capacity to help me forget my problems for tick. Where did I get such amazing friends? I really have no idea sometimes.

100 Gold Stars to: Apartment Manager Lady
For letting me park in her parking spot till I feel safe parking my car in its old spot and for being properly concerned for me. It’s all very comforting.

TARDS

450,000 Tard Smears to: The Douche Bags who broke into my apartment on Friday night
I’ve been thinking a lot about this award and carefully considering my reasoning. All of you have been on my mind a lot. I want to let you know that a lot of my prayers are going with this award. I have been praying for all of you almost as much as my family. Mainly to keep myself from being consumed in anger and fear and because the One I serve had told me that’s what I need to do in these kind of situations and I think, for the first time, I understand why He takes that spin on things. I really pity all of you. I almost want to meet you and talk to you. I want to know what kind of pain you deal with that has driven you to drug addiction, anger and violence. No one should have to suffer all of those things at one time. Or even one at one time. So you all get a heaping helping of Tards because you did break into my home and steal my computer along with every paper I’ve written in college and 8 chapters of my book that I don’t have hard copies of. Those are all things I can’t replace and will miss very much. But I truly want all of you to get help. I want all of you to find someone in your life to love you and something to keep you from feeling like you need to invade people’s lives to get money to get high to escape from your own. If they catch you I will come down to the station because I want to look into your eyes and say I forgive you, because I do. I am still praying for all of you. And also praying that you lost my car keys during the get away and I don’t need to worry about that any more.

1003 Tard Smears to: The circumstance that took the Police 1.5 hours to get to my house when I couldn’t touch or do anything but still had to stay there and look at the invaded heap my home had become
Enough said. Lame. Extremely uncool.

500 Tard Smears to: My Grammar teacher
For being so psychologically damaging to me that I am STILL more concerned about my midterm than anything else that happened on Friday.

You know-

What could make having the worst test day ever perfect? Coming home and having your house broken into. Seriously. Its been a marvelous day.
Sent via the Blackberry crystal ball

New levels of Sleepless

(and not the Seattle kind)

Dear frustratingly sadistic Instructor of English Grammar that should really have been the practicing Russian Nazi you are and whose class I had the gross misfortune of registering for,

Firstly, welcome to the country. I'm sure someone is glad you're here. However, today, right now, I cannot say that its me.

I understand that you've been dealt a hard deck. Its hard to be 5' 1" anywhere in the 1st world. Its also hard to be a woman in academia. And I cannot even imagine what moved you to get a PhD in English Grammar and Rhetoric when you were a linguistics exchange student from Moscow. Its a challenge I'm sure. I'm also sure that you have a deep love for ridiculous complexities like most of your countrymen do. Its loaned itself to many amazing novels and poetry and ballet dancers. I can't imagine what else would have led you to Grammar. It's its own painfully tedious language. Its a series of ridiculous and ridged guidelines inside a TOTALLY subjective universe. There is no absolute anywhere. Its a horrible conundrum for anybody native speakers included.

I don't know which of the Fates I pissed off enough to have landed you as an instructor at this really sensitive time for me. Probably Clotho. You and your class are the one thing that is standing between me and graduation and grad school. If I don't pass your class I don't graduate. If I don't get an A in your class I don't get into grad school. And you only let us take two tests that are each worth 35% of our grade??!! So if the first is a "learning opportunity" there is NO hope at redemption. None. None at all. How is that effective instruction?

So pretty much the stress of your class ruining my life and making me doubt any and all of my academic potential and value as a person in general. And not in the hyperbolic sense either. I am loosing sleep and emotionally destabilizing because of you class and methodologies. I'm not a stranger to challenges. My life has been a string of them. I have taught myself to read with dyslexia. I have sung in front of 1000's of people on a few minutes notice. I have played tennis matches with torn cartilage in my knee and blisters that went through 5 layers of skin and won. I have done some hard things in my life. I have learned languages within a matter of months (I had a lot of help on that one though)! I have never broken down in tears during an exam for sheer frustration or gone into the exam shaking with nervousness. But I did today and all within 15 minutes of each other. I feel like an overacting character in a bad soap opera but it's the truth. I believe its possible for Grammar to be accessible, to be learnable. People have done it for centuries. But in your class I feel like I'm studying Greek mixed with Klingon.

Your midterm that I took today realized every possible insecurity I've ever had. I feel like I should just apply for that good paying Waste Management job and let you consider your job done.

I have studied more for this class that I have the entirety of the rest of my college career. And I was studying microbiology for a good while, but none of it is making sense. I can't even see why it should be important to me. AND I'M A WRITER! This is why I am loosing sleep and faith in myself.

Do you understand that this isn't a game?

That these are people's lives that you're toying with with?

Do you get that your past perfect progressive adverbial clauses and the derivational morphemes exclusive to attributive adjectives in the Closed Class and all other impossible circumlocutory questions demanding short answer essays, examples, and argumentative evidence are sadistic?

And the next question is basically the same one as before but slightly different so that puts me into a slight panic attack wondering if I didn't understand the first one and makes me doubt everything I just said and will say later?

And 8 other pages of the same to get through?

And only having 50 minutes to do it?

And if I don't finish and finish well then I'm damned?

Do you get that?

Do you even care?

Do you know that answering a questions about jargon with string of other jargon that we don't even have a clue about understanding won't help? We don't stand in awe of your knowledge, we loathe the fact that you are our teacher. When the average class performance is below 40% in an upper division core class at a University that should tell you something. We're not casual students and we're not dumb, but we are lost. Very very very lost and running out of patience and time.

I suppose its too late now. The wheels are in motion. I'll get that Trash Lady or Meter Maid application ready right now.

Thank you for telling me to have a good weekend when I turned in my test though. I believe you truly meant it and perhaps felt a spot of sympathy for me if you saw my reluctantly leaking eyes.

Please disregard the fact that there are tear stains on this letter as well. I couldn't help it reliving the last few hours. I apologise for my lack of composure.

Traumatized and completely discouraged,
Liz

Wednesday Giggles

Even though the world is on fire there are still giggles to be had so here we go!

Here is another favorite-

You may reconginze this lovely man from the reoccuring Pale Force segment on Conan or a few of those disturbing Skittles commercials (two words: beard comb-over). Hes also sometimes known as "The Polar Bear"

I love this particular set because all of my brothers are chemically dependent on Hot Pockets and it always disturbed me a little. It took Jim Gaffigan to explain why.


Oh - and that little voice he does inbetween statements is his version of the auidence's internal dialogue or reaction to what he might be saying about the joke. Its a running gig through the whole show. Var var funny.

I'm It

Whoo Hoo! Game time....

Rules (cause we love rules):
1. The player lists 6 facts/habits about themselves.

2. At the end of the post, the player tags 6 people and posts their names, and then goes to their blog and leaves them a comment, letting them know they have been tagged and asking them to read your blog for the rules.

So, the Lovely Rachel has charged me to disclose 6 quirks and or strange habits about myself via blog (that I haven't already) and pass on the love.

This might be tough...
Um -

6) When I come across something I have a tendency to classify them in one of three different categories; "LOVE!", "Lame", "Loathe". I very rarely feel neutral or "meh" about something. If it's "like" worthy then I pick it apart for something to love so I can classify it in LOVE! And even if there is a morsel that is lovable it qualifies in the LOVE! category. I don't like to loathe things so that's why I designed Lame. I think there are only about 10 things that have a place in Loathe and stay there (abusive people, pedophilia, apathy, liars - those kind of things). This is my approach to everything. Music, food, places, people, books, plate tectonics (LOVE!). I think its a marvelous thing to feel and to feel wonderful so I look for it as often as possible.

5) Tendency #6 leads me to my #5 which is that I have a tendency to speak in superlatives. It is totally unintentional and I have no desire to dilute the meaning of a word or the awesomeness of what I am speaking to, but because I just love things it comes out as "my favorite!" or "the best!" or "awesomest thing ever!". And when I proclaim that I really mean it. Even if its for that space and time of 15 seconds that I pull that particular subject out of the LOVE! file. I've been working on being more keeled in my speech but for those of you that so patiently deal with the fire hose of "Bestest thing ever ever!" - that's why.

4) I have randomly occurring anal-retentive tendencies: My closet is organized according to type of clothing and where it falls in the color gradient. The shoes and purses are separated by blacks and browns on respective halves of it. The shoes don't point to magnetic north, but I have considered it. My movies and CDs are alphabetized. Most bottles in my bathroom are arranged in descending size order and the bills in my wallet always are in numerical faced order. Oh - and I refold clothes in stores.

3) I take particular joy in waving and smiling at people waiting on corners for the crosswalk sign to change when I'm stopped at a light in my car. They always look bored and half afraid that someone will talk to them and super anxious to just cross the street. So I wave and smile to simultaneously 1)realize their anxiety 2) let them laugh at themselves 3) and let them feel like a person not another something that cars avoid.

2) There have been times when I was showing friends where I grew up in Pasadena that after I've taken them on the brief neighborhood tour that I've introduced them to my trees. There were 3 or 4 trees around my home that were always special thoughtful spots for and to me. So yes - I've introduced people to trees. No I did not hug them but, like magnetic north, I have considered it.

1) I've always dreamed of being one of the kids on Kids Incorporated and then growing up to be one of Janet Jackson's back up dancers or having a regular spot as a Solid Gold Dancer. When I'm not lost in some kind of space in my head and I'm just driving I find myself choreographing and dancing to whats on the radio. I am an unfulfilled ballerina/hip hop diva - and honestly, I'm ok with that. Community college ballet classes are just wonderful and remind me why my budding Solid Gold career began and ended in front of my TV in my living room. But there is, and always will be, a pair of worn out character shoes and ballet slippers hanging up somewhere in my heart.

I think that I'm going to tag: Kim, Tracy, Shelly, Mari B, Hannah, and Nick. Cause I'm dying to know. Seriously.

"You Should Go into Business"

So as the lucky and patient few of you who have been getting regular ear-fulls of whats sucking up most of my free time and to commemorate my 40th post as part of the blogger universe:

I'm helping my new sister-in-law plan her and my brother's wedding that's going down next month. Shes a doll and has a bunch of amazing ideas but isn't much of a planner so I'm helping out where I can and its been really good to help us bond and all that fun jazz. I mean, what else can help you talk at least once a day than planning a wedding for a frozen Utah November? Not much.

So to explain why the posts are slower coming than usual and to save my blog from being nothing but a slew of random wedding updates I've just made a bar list on the side for you to peruse if you're curious or if you have any suggestions or comments.

Ambiguiphile

Oscar Wilde says that "Only the shallow know themselves" implying that those of profound mind or spirit are constantly getting to know themselves and occasionally are surprised by who they are. I agree and disagree with this.

I disagree in the absoluteness he claims for those non-shallow of us. I think you can know your tendencies and know where you'd veer in certain situations but agree with him in the respect of progress -

If you're constantly and deliberately working on your character and habits there will be times of emotional critical mass where you amaze yourself. And there are also those precious moments where you know and feel that more experienced ethereal hearts and hands are guiding your actions and/or words and you get to look back with an earnest keanuesque "woah". I live for those moments frankly. Those are they hyper drive moments of character and make for the life changing journal entries.

However I content myself with little realizations about myself more often than not and I've recently learned something about me (aside that I'm allergic to dairy). I really really love defined non-definition. I love movies with ambiguous endings. I think I love the emotional tie up but not the logistical bow.

A couple of weeks ago the movie Garden State came up between Nick and myself at the gym. Apparently Mr. Zack Braff is more than the clowny dude on Scrubs. Homey had this screenplay in his pocket since high school and soundtrack list on his iPod before they even started filming. He directed the flick as well as starred in it. That's a pretty busy Scrubs clown boy. I was impressed and I had 3 people whose music sensibilities I implicitly trust recommend the soundtrack and that loved it without even seeing the movie. Holy cow. How many movies do you know whose soundtrack is so good it stands independently on its own? Think hard - I did and I didn't come up with many. So the DVD was on the $5 special at Target so I picked it up and I watched it for the first time last week. Holy. Freaking. Cow.

Awesome Flick

But not awesome in the LOTR of Transformers kind of way. Awesome in that it totally didn't resolve much of anything in this sad and angst filled life of a New Jersey boy except that he made one good choice out of a bunch of bad ones and it ends with him saying "what do you say here?" and it kind of faded into this marvelous Frou Frou song Let Go and I literally found myself more moved than I had been in months. I mean usually movies make you feel something during them and then they wrap it up nicely and you leave the theater all ready to face life after a brief brain vacation. But there are others that you feel this explosion of emotion, not in the middle but when its done. Then I reflected back to the last time I felt so much at the end of a movie and it was at the end of "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" where they say "What do we do now?" "I don't know". They just know they're in love and they know its not going to be perfect and that they were OK with that. It's this totally ambiguous ending.

And I've recently learned that I LOVE IT. When it's done right. If its like The Fountain - never freaking mind, I'd rather chew glass than try to get my head around that strange space. But I can't even begin to tell you how refreshed and validated I feel about all of the undefined aspects in my own life after seeing this movie. Maybe its because my life is so full of things and people that my head doesn't completely understand but my heart does or if I just love the space that movies like that give me to get lost in my head on my way back to my car and construct the sequel. But either way they teach me something about me, like all good art should. And for that I am grateful. I know myself just a little bit better than I did yesterday and its pretty good to meet me.

Even if its piece by piece.

Wednesday Giggles

So I've been trying to think of a weekly feature I could implement on my blog that was me but not obtuse and just the other day I had an epiphany-

I love to laugh.

I am a living, breathing Mary Poppins song.

I love a good joke.

I even love bad jokes. I collect them even.

And I especially love stand up comedy. It has a permanent table reservation in the restaurant of my heart. I spent entire summers parked in front of Comedy Central and at the Ice House during my high school years. I've found that its getting harder and harder to find truly funny stuff and not just shock jokes or a string of racial slurs and expletives so when I do find someone or something truly hilarious I love it like a loving thing.

So lets get it started shall we?

This guy has been on my favorites list for a good long time. I have a feeling that if we knew each other we'd be fast friends.
Ladies and Gentleman - I give you Brian Regan

Con Gusto

So on my very foggy and windy morning commute today I met the crossing guard version of this incredible man. Just imagine the red or yellow card as a stop sign. He also pranced back in his iridescent vest to his lawn chair of safety in the exact same manner. I was laughing so hard I was a bit embarrassed just sitting in the car by myself. Good job crossing guard man!! Thank you for being excited. Excited to keep kids safe and make neon green fashionable as well as functional. *high 5*

With One Eye Closed and One Arm Behind my Back

So I truly think I'm beginning to know what it feels like to be handicapped.

If you've seen me recently you might have said to yourself "wow - Liz really needs to tone down the whole red eyeshadow motif" or "Liz kind of reminds me of those archival pictures of tuberculosis victims we saw in history last month" or "is that a love bite on Lizzy's neck? Does she really have a love bite and not enough sense or decorum to cover it up??!"

Well my friends, I have finally figured out why I have looked like a lugger for the last few months. It took me a while but I have come to a very sad but very true conclusion.

I have an allergy. But not just any allergy.

Let me tell you how it unfolded:

One day about 3 months ago I woke up and my eye lids were itchy. Kind of random

By the end of the day they were red and itchy. Random and inconvenient

By the next day they were red, itchy and swollen. random inconvenient and slightly embarrassing

And by the end of that day they were red, itchy, swollen and dried out. Officially Lame and I was very confused.

Mind you this is the skin around the eye - not the eye itself (thank goodness - this could all be much much worse).

At first I thought that my mascara was bugging me. So I changed it out and didn't put any on for a week or two.

Still red, swollen, itchy, dry and cracked eyes

Then I changed my facial cleanser, my toner and my moisturizer to see if it was that too.

Still red swollen, itchy dry and cracked eyes

And then I noticed my neck started itching. Super ultra randomly lame. Red spots appeared here and there and I was half convinced that I had leprosy.

Then I had a thought ---

The irritated areas on my neck as well as my eyes that had the same symptoms. Red, itchy, sensitive, dry and cracked skin and that told me that it wasn't a reaction to a local. It must be an internal or food allergy. Super great.

One night when the red had faded and the swelling had gone down a bit my friend came over for a Breakfast at Tiffany's night and she brought some pints of Ben and Jerry's (like any good friend would do on a Breakfast at Tiffany's night) and we thoroughly enjoyed our caramel cores but the next morning my eyes were so swollen I couldn't open them.

And then blinded like diseased rat the only thing I could do was lay back down and when I did I started to think and it was then that I figured it out.

I had stopped buying dairy products like cheese and yogurt a while back because I could never eat all of it before it went bad so I felt like I was wasting money.

Then I started buying soy milk because it cost the same as normal milk and it tasted the same to me but it stayed good for like 3 months and I got a serving of veggies with breakfast. Awesome deal.

I started using canola margarine after my father outlined our family's medical history to me and scared me to death. And I was being more healthy and I found it delicious. Two-fer!

Then I rembembered some of my high school AP Bio lectures - humans don't naturally produce the necessary digestive enzymes to break down lactose. We were not born knowing what to do with milk. But it's delicious and makes everything else pretty delicious so we consume a lot of it and because are bodies are so awesome they adapt and figure out how to break down lactose.

So because I had cut so much of it out for a bunch of different reasons I had inadvertently weaned myself off of milk. And consequently, with a slightly older anatomy than a child - I developed an allergy.

I am allergic to milk. Not even lactose intolerant - full on allergic. The tear ducts are collecting places for toxins and the mucus glads and lymph nodes are waste disposal stations as well so that explains why it was my eye and neck regions that were flaming up. It was all making sense. A lot of tragic but totally logically sound sense. I was ingesting all these dairy products and my body had no idea what to do with them so it started rejecting them.

I lived off of lettuce and protein bars for a week or so and things went back to normal. I even got to wear eye make up for the first time in a while a few weeks back. I fogot how much I missed that.

Now initially I kind of thought "That's not so bad. No more yoohoo and Ben and Jerry's and I shouldn't be eating those anyway" but as the reality of what "no dairy" meant distilled on me, the lists of things that were detrimental to me kept growing and growing and I came to realize that I am one of those annoying "oh - I can't have that" kind of people now. *sniff* I always internally rolled my eyes at people like that and now as an ironic loving universe would have it, I have joined the ranks.

Milk = cheese. As in cream cheese, as in Parmesan cheese, as in cheese and crackers as in blue cheese dressing, as in cheesecake, as in macaroni and cheese and in Pizza

Milk = cream. As in Ice cream, as in sweet cream, as in cookies and cream, as in creamsicles, as in sour cream, as in whipped cream, as in devonshire cream, as in the best part of the Hostess and Little Debbie universe, as in the main ingredient of ALL of my favorite soups

Milk = butter. As in the main ingredient of mashed potatoes, as in half of the sauces in the world that chicken and anything else delicious finds its way to, as in buttermilk pancakes, as in buttermilk ranch dressing, as in applebutter, (I think peanut butter is ok still though. I sure hope so)

And just milk itself. Milkshakes, milk chocolate

And I can't even begin to think about forever being parted from fondue but there it is.

And everyday I think about it I come to realize how much milk and cows and all their hormonal weirdness mean to the American diet.

Now - I'm probably better off with this allergy. It's done a lot of things actually. It's helped me find sympathy for people who do have allergies and how helpless it makes them feel and that its a matter of courage to go out and do anything. Its helped me reanalyze food and be far more careful about it. Basically Heavenly Father said "Lizzie - you're going to be all about garlic, lemons, chicken, fruits, veggies, tofutti, and some vinaigrette for awhile" and I happily say ok.

Its a whole new world really - absent of the flying carpets and impossible hairstyles.

Just one in a cowless universe.

Acme Moments

Dear dead possum in the road with the two tire tracks,

What on earth did you do to deserve such a Looney Toons fate? I mean, your very existence is an insult to refined sensibilities everywhere, but your end is pretty much perfect. You are a disturbingly engorged rodent that serves little use in the universe aside of giving us all something to loathe. Oh sure you have some use aside of consuming oxygen -you provide a home for fleas and parasites and are a decorated bastion of the garbage pile. I'm sure you were top of your class at Old Lady Scaring 101 and Skulking 325 but as you saw those two speeding pieces of heavenly rubber we are not pleased and we do not recognize your Magna Cum Laude in Creepiness and Pestilence.

disgusted and loathing you,

Ms. E. Long

Dear driver who left perfectly centered tire tracks on the possum in the road,

Thank you.

Thank you so much for making me laugh like a laughing person at a laughing convention on my lunch today.

Thank you for not being intimidated by the horrible hiss or ratton tail of Mr. Ugly-Possum man.

Thank you for keeping your focus when your headlights hit those creepy iridescent eyes and thank you for having perfect aim.

The world is a better place today because of you.

admiringly yours,

~Liz

Roots

I'm totally not pioneer stock at all.



I love their songs. I love their stories. I admire their resolve. I marvel at their tenacity and I thoroughly enjoy any graceful use of a bonnet.

But I'm not one of them. My ancestors were Irish, Welsh and Scottish singers who heard a missionary district meeting's opening hymn, were taught, accepted the truth and came over on the railroad. It was fans and tea service for us thank you. Especially coming to Zion.

The docks that they came through and the places that they gathered as a family before making the Utah jump were in Virgina, North Carolina, and Louisiana.

I find it beautifully symmetrical that the places our family has been called to serve our full time missions have been to (me to Virginia and Washington DC and Jonathan to Charolette North Carolina) were the places my family first came to America. It gives me goosebumps when I think about it. The docks that I went and taught tourists at were the same ones my converted family first tasted Zion. I love it. So with this in mind I was sure as sure a sure person that when Nick opened his call it would be for New Orleans, LA but he got it today -

And hes going to - NORTH CAROLINA. Raleigh, North Carolina.

There is still work to do in the big NC so its going to take a few Elder Long's go make it happen. I'm totally sure my kids are going to Louisiana now though. Almost positive.

I can't even begin to tell you what I feel and how much of it I'm feeling. Nick receiving his call has been a fantastic journey for everybody. I think we're all way more invested in it than in the previous two calls in the family. Everyone rallied around him. We all changed our diets to help him make weight. We would work out 3-5 times a week. It's every one's call really. He's the best gym buddy that a girl could hope for. Its a bit terrifying to know how real the call is and that as of Dec 19 he will be a plaque wearing member of The Work. I'm so happy for him!!! And I stand continually amazed at the beauty and cyclical nature of The Plan.

So yeah - he's leaving. My baby brother is off to the world. Well - to North Carolina anyway. May the Confederate flag fly and the red velvet abound! We're going home.

Marching Orders

It is a marvelous thing to be a woman.

I sometimes feel sorry for my noble male counter parts because they don't get to see the 5th dimension of things like women-folk get to.

I've been thinking a lot about what that means recently. And as I have I've gotten continuously more and more irked at the "fruits" of the Feminist Revolution. Here - a generation after the fireworks I see a lot of things that concern me.

It's a delicate insanity.

I see women who are marvelous and amazing and precious abandoning themselves and their gorgeous feminine natures and their rights as women to be mothers for what they've learned is being "a woman".

We dress like men, cut our hair like men, make our bodies hard and curveless like men, take on their manner of speech, embrace their (general) stoic dispositions, devalue relationships, elbow them out of their God-given drive and right to provide in the work place, all of these things are everywhere all with the intent to be a "better woman".

This is bad for MANY reasons.

Principally, it neuters our future generations of men. Women - Ladies... we need our men. And we need our men to be men. There are holes to dig and wars to fight and spiders to kill and we could do all of them if we needed to but our men were built to. That's what they do. That's how they feel important and useful. That's how they show us that they love us. How cruel is it to not let them? And frankly, I think it takes a stronger woman to let a man take care of those things than to just do it yourself. If we're doing all of the manly stuff we're upsetting the balance of things. Consequently men don't have much wiggle room and sadly there has been a trend of them becoming a lazy, high maintenance, ungentlemanly and flat out weak and cowardly bunch. It's sad, and I don't like to dwell on it because there are marvelous men out there too. I'm related to a number of them, but its a trend I can't ignore either.

And whats worse is that they are frustrated. They're being told to do one thing but then being criticized and when they do and criticized when they don't. Its a horrible cycle. If they get up and be men we consider them arrogant and if they don't then we consider them weak. Its a lose/lose and it breaks my heart to see. Men are programmed to make their women happy. Its their finest hour when we're speechless with gratitude. If we're constantly displeased no one is happy - ever. And you know the only way to fix it?

Letting women be Women. Then men can be Men.

After this weekend I feel the amazing task and blessing of being a woman. And not just being a woman but being a woman of God. Saturday was the General Relief Society meeting and I have not felt more filled and inspired by one in ages.

I love our leadership.

I love our calling as women.

And mostly I loved the fact that we have been righteous enough to get some marching orders. These meetings are usually really wonderful but I, sometimes, walk away feeling kind of patted on the head. They tell us that we're wonderful and that they love us and that we're doing a wonderful job and what we do doesn't go unnoticed and I bet a lot of us really need to hear that. If not they probably wouldn't have said it. But I sometimes feel like I failed a little too because I never felt very instructed, just praised. I don't know if its my manic tasky nature but it always felt like more of a spiritual bubble bath than a work out. And I expect a training session at General meetings - ya know?

But not this last time. Its probably just a case of me cleaning out the wax from my own ears but I really felt praised and inspired and instructed. Sister Beck and her councillors are so marvelous. I tear up just thinking about them and their tender, intensely feminine strength and their charge and belief in us to become not just members of The Church but Defenders of it. Schooled, learned, tried and passionate defenders of marriage and family and the home by means of being scholars of the doctrines of Jesus Christ and being unmoved in our testimonies. Not because we can do hospital bed corners in 10 seconds flat. Not because we're canning machines. Not because we've quilted enough blankets to build a bridge between Salt Lake and Nigeria. No - that is all secondary to our studied out personal findings of the scriptures and our relationship with the Lord. I love it.

And what more important things can we be called to take proverbial arms up for? What is it that we're programmed to do above all else? And to do it as Women of God and with His blessing and power. I can't say it enough -

Its a marvelous thing to be a woman.

And its a beautiful thing to be a Woman of God.