Yesterday on the news I heard that The Muppet Movie is spreading communism, the post office is closing, planet Earth has an evil twin, and you can no longer wear skinny jeans at BYU Idaho.
HOLY SMOKES! (Can I say Holy Smokes ?) (Or should I say Holy Nicorette!?)
First book stores and now the post office?????
First mini skirts and now skinny jeans????? I just bought my first pair of skinny jeans last week!
I wonder if they wear skinny jeans on our evil twin planet? I wonder if they deliver mail and read books on our evil twin planet? I wonder if Miss Piggy is trying to control the world on our evil twin planet?
(Ewww, I wonder if they show that new K-Y Jelly commercial on our evil twin planet?)
Wait! What if WE are the evil twin planet?
As if that wasn't enough shock and awe for one day, yesterday was also family picture day.
(Thank goodness I didn't wear my skinny jeans.)
We look like the happiest family on "evil twin" planet Earth don't we?
But you didn't hear us in the car. Or during the 45 minutes before the car when my bangs were having an identity crisis. Curly or straight? Straight or curly? They couldn't decide. And neither could I, until finally they were just poking straight up and out.
My daughter refused to document it with photographic evidence because she said I would regret it later, but trust me, if I had an evil twin I know what she would look like, (minus the skinny jeans).
Anyways I stuck a clip in it and ended up looking like the sticky-sweet twin.
Seriously, I look like I could give you a cavity, huh? But you know better right? You know mo' bettah!
Before I go, last time I promised to share another one of my busted myths about Utah. The one about Utah having a high depression and stress rate. Remember? huh? huh? huh? Sure you do, because I've been busting Utah's chops about it for years, partly because I can. But mostly because I am.
That's right, I am Utah. Of it and from it, baby! The deep south of it. And the South Park Provo of it.
Yes, there were times when I twisted this truth--like at that West Point dance when I pretended to be of Connecticut. And of Mercedes Benz. And then there was that phase I went through in my early marriage when I lived in Utah, but not of Utah.
And then of course there were the apologetic years . . .
But that's over now. Now I am in Utah and of Utah.
I am UTAH, here me ROOOOOOAR!
(Did that scare you as much as it scared me?)
What I'm trying to say is I know what I'm talking about when I tell you that it's not the people in Utah who are depressed, it's the houses. The houses here practically slip into a coma when you're not looking. Turn your back for five seconds and their eyes roll back into their heads until you shake them alive again.
In Hawaii the houses wake you up each morning. Good morning sleepyhead, they smile. Which of the five senses can I get for you today? For your listening pleasure I've got cooing doves, tumbling waves, or a light rain. And for your aromatic pleasure I've got freshly cut grass, sweet gardenia, or . . . a light rain.
In cold places you have to wake your house up each morning. And then you have to cheer it up. You have to tell it it's good enough, smart enough, and doggonit, people like it.
When I get rich and famous I'm going to hire someone else to do this for me. If anyone wants a job I'll pay you big bucks to wake my house up 30 minutes before the rest of us roll out of bed--turn on all the lights, start a roaring fire, bake a batch of bread maybe, or squeeze some fresh orange juice. And most importantly, push play on my iPod, paleeeeease!
We the people of Utah are not depressed. And if we seem stressed it's only because we are trying to keep our homes from slitting their wrists.