Please step forward and identify yourself. Preferably in English. Or in Spanish. I could probably even decode your comments in French, (as long as they are instructing me to pick my nose or grate my cheese). And please do tell me what's uh, the dealio with the all the dot dot dots? Why does every comment end in 26 periods? ......................................... Is it some ancient Chinese secret message from the Universe? Do I need a Little Orphan Annie decoder ring to understand it?
Let me guess, the Universe is trying to tell me that life is redundant.
Am I right, or am I right?
For alls I know, I might have more than one Chinese reader. Maybe I'm hitting the big time in China. Maybe I will be taking over the world in the very near future.
I hope not. I'm too tired to take over the world right now.
A few of you asked me yesterday if I was done living life so I could get back to writing about life. My answer is YES, I'm so done. It takes way too much time to actually live life. Especially one as wonderful as mine. I'm ready to be miserable and bored again.
Technically, however, I'm not going to be miserable and bored again until next week because my daughter's best friend, Tum, from Hawaii, is still here with us, which means we are still partying like it's 1999.
Yesterday started at 8 a.m. with baptisms for the dead, and then tennis and then Del Taco and then Karate Kid and then we piled a bunch of rowdy friends in my car and drove to Classic Skating, which was closed so we drove to Jump On It and jumped on it and then to the lake and stood on a bridge (fully clothed) and jumped off it and then I cooked spaghetti at 10:00 p.m.
In between all this I drove to Thanksgiving Point, Provo and Kearns for basketball practices and baseball games, all the while making dozens of church related phone calls.
That's my vida loca.
But YES, I'm back, and I'm so grateful to all of you who said you missed me. It feels soooooo good to be missed. I missed you TOOOOOO! Which also feels good.
I'm also so grateful to those of you who called me a weirdie. I'm not afraid of being a weirdie. Especially when I have a cause that I really believe in. Is it so wrong that I want all the shells in the world to live in peace and harmony and stay together so their kids won't have abandonment issues/committment issues/depression issues/body complex issues/empty shell issues when they grow up?
Get it? Empty shell issues? Ah, sometimes I crack myself up.
And sometimes I don't.
Braden Bell asked if he could use the touching/borderline creepy image of a woman putting shells back together on the beach in a future book. I say, have at it Braden Bell. Just don't forget to give me credit for being your touching/borderline creepy inspiration.
Speaking of Braden Bell, I am reading his first book The Roadshow and even though there are no borderline creepy weirdies in it, it is still very touching. I think it's one of the most honest novels within a Mormon context that I've ever read.
But then I've only read two Mormon novels.
J/K peeps. Please don't report that to the proper authorities.
I'm no stereotyper or labeller and I never make assumptions or sweeping generalizations about whole groups of people or cultures, but frankly my dear, us Mormon's aren't all that honest-abe sometimes. I mean, we're honest, YES, but we're not honest. We don't lie, per say. We just don't always tell the truth. You hear me? I was pleasantly surprised that Braden Bell let his characters be so real. Like them or not, his characters think and feel and struggle with things that I bet millions of Mormons think and feel and struggle with.
Good on you, Braden Bell!
Oh peeps, It's time to end this post and I haven't even started it. Seriously, I didn't say a single thing I needed to say. I didn't even give you my Karate Kid review (TWO THUMBS WAY WAY UP!) or tell you how embarrassing it was when my daughter drove to the temple yesterday with the windows down and the music blaring.
I should probably rephrase that because she didn't just drive to the temple, she drove to the temple--past the parking lot and through the pearly white gates which separate us from them. She didn't stop until I squealed. Once she stopped I got all hot and flustered upon seeing all the cute little temple ladies walking towards us and our Black Eyed Peas so I jumped out of the back seat and dove across my daughter's lap to turn the music down. Then I had a startling realization that I was in my tennis shorts and my legs were bare naked so I yanked my daughter from the driver's seat so I could hide my shame. Unfortunately my daughter had not yet placed the car in park so technically we were still driving towards the light .........................................................
Yeah, I wish I had had time to tell you that story today, but I gotsta go watch my twins play some baseball.