I hadn't heard from my parents in over a week. They usually contact me almost every day. So when they go a while without I get the same feeling I get when I babysit and I haven't heard a child scream for a while... they're up to something... and that something probably isn't good. Usually when the kids get quiet you know there's a mess to clean up. And so it is with my parents. But did I go in and check on them? No. I'm on strike. I let them make the mess.
Oddly enough, though... this time... well, this time they got a new puppy. Them adopting a new puppy is like Adam Sandler adopting that kid on Big Daddy. They already have a dog and three cats. All of which roam the house like gods. My parents forfeit their chairs if an animal wants it. It's sick. I'm telling you. Now they have an added puppy (another Boston Terrier) and even though I know this is probably the best way to go since it will help lessen the blow for my mother when somebody else in the family dies, I know that the house is going to be nastier than ever. Because like children begging for a dog, my parents are overly giddy when a new animal arrives, swears to take care of it, dresses it up and treats it like a baby doll but doesn't clean up after the mess. So, although I'm opposed of any new life entering that house... I have to admit... Boston Terrier puppies are cute and small and I can't wait to meet my new baby "sister"... oh dear...

Cancelling credit cards shouldn't be this hard. Getting a wallet stolen shouldn't be this inconvenient. But it is. These phone calls are painful. Ow...

It's funny how when your focus is on something/someone else, you'll rush into situations (and stay in them for hours) that you usually would avoid like the plague. I spent quite a bit of time in a hospital last night and even chased down doctors/nurses to answer questions. For the most part I was composed and calm. And hopefully I was more of a help to my Liz than an added pain. The fact that I had done that didn't hit me until later, once the van was unloaded and Lisa and I were just walking, when my mind wasn't busy any more. But by that time the hospital was out of the picture and I had no reason to flip out that much. So... next time I see a spider or a gun (or a blue jay??) I'm going to just put my focus somewhere else. And, you know... if my friends really cared about me then they'd just hurt themselves when situations like that came up so that I could easily put my focus/concern there.
Hehe... Big Daddy... "Oh, don't cry! Don't cry! Here, watch!" He threw himself in front of the car and the kid laughed. He forgot why he was so upset in the first place! See? My theory works.

So it turns out I'm not sleeping. It's been a few weeks now. I'm starting to get cranky. It's not that I'm not tired. I get really tired. Sleeping just doesn't happen. But now... but now it's getting worse because... I have a partner in "not-sleepingness-na-na-na..." It's nice because I'm not just chilling by myself in my room while the rest of the world gets their eight hours in. But I think having a buddy may just be fanning the flame. She's not sleeping, I'm not sleeping, and neither of us wants to go to bed because we should be a good friend and stay up with the other. Or something like that. Besides, when you're tired (and more than a little bit "campy" - which, as a side note, is a word I had never heard until I moved to Provo... actually it's a word I had never heard until I moved in with Liz and Kat... what does it mean???) but anyway, when you're tired, your fences go down and discussions get interesting. And interesting discussions are well... interesting. Why go to bed when it's getting so good??
Besides, it's kind of fun being "campy". At one point I climbed up to the second floor, tapped on Margaret's window and whispered her name in a creepy voice until she slowly parted the blinds and shakily said, "Hello??" Then there was the jump and growl outside Jena's window. And the long 4am stroll around Provo. Things that are only cool when all common sense is gone.
I'm reminded of a song..."Who needs sleep? Well you're never gonna get!" Sorry I'm so cranky guys. If you make me a T-shirt or sign that says "I'm cranky/campy" or something like that, I'll wear it. I shouldn't be allowed to interract with people...

Today was my 5th time on roller blades. And today was the first time I fell on roller blades. Ow. Let me tell you... ow! I made it all the way to the other side of the trail without falling (it was a challenge though... lots of hills and such...) but the way back wasn't so smooth. We came to a tunnel/hill and there were two people sitting on the ledge of one of the walls. I skated past them, tried to get back to the right side (all the while screaming, "I'm gonna die! I'm gonna die!" as I picked up speed) and smashed into the wall, spun from there and hit my arm, bounced back and landed on my back... or more specifically... on the back of my head. Ow!! So the guy who was sitting on the wall comes over and helps me up and I skate away holding my head and muttering, "I knew I was going to die..." I keep on with Lisa right behind me. (She fell too since she was behind me and encountered a traffic jam when my mangled body was taking up the whole trail.)
Next hill I know I'm in trouble. There's nothing to hang on to. So I walk sideways down the hill on the gravel until there's no longer anything to hang on to. Realizing I have no dignity left anyways, I scoot on my bum to the other side of the trail where there are big rocks to hold on to. I'm holding onto the rocks and slowly lowering myself down the hill when my skates slip out from under me and I do a little belly flop onto the trail. Lisa starts laughing and mid-laugh she falls too. (Karma is a beautiful thing.) I pull myself up, tell Lisa to move out of the way and roll the rest of the way down the hill.
And here comes hill number three. There's a fence to hang on to so I'm feeling pretty confident as I slowly ease myself down. Except, what's this? I'm leaving a blood trail! Ow!!! I cut my finger on the rocks during the last fall and it's a gushy one. Gross. Did I mention how much I hate blood? Ya, not a fan. My head is killing me, my confidence is down, my elbow, foot and forearm is all nasty and red and my finger is leaving a trail of red. Not happy. No, no.
But all in all, I had a good time. Roller blading is good. And good for you. Except for when you fall. So, I would suggest to any roller bladers or roller blader wannabes... don't fall.

I'm not one that is easily angered. I can't even remember the last time I was mad. Not including my family, of course. But even then I'm more mad at myself than I am at them. Anyway, tonight I got mad. It's stupid really. I realize that it's stupid. And it was all over American Idol, a soccer game and a pool. But really, I got mad because somebody was making judgements about me and my friends that were definitely uncalled for. Does watching the season finale of a favorite TV program make me unrighteous? It's not like I play video games all day every day, or spend all my time watching television. I only watch two shows. I pushed record the last two nights to attend FHE and Enrichment. My priorities are in order, I believe. I don't think watching American Idol makes me evil. At least not any more evil than I was before. But I'm not going to defend American Idol, the fact that I spend an average of 1.5 hours a week watching it, or not attending a soccer game. I didn't go. I wanted to. I was planning on attending the next one. But I'm not going to. I think I'm done. Why? Because I despise guilt trips. "You didn't go because you don't like me... I'm not worth your time because I'm not on TV... wah wah wah..." He's right. He's not worth my time. But not because he's not on TV. Because he makes me feel bad about myself. Because he makes my friends feel bad about themselves. Or at least because he tries to. Putting people down has never raised a person to a higher level. Pointing out people's faults makes you seem mean and haughty (especially when the faults aren't really faults at all but alternative characteristics.) If you spend all of your time searching for faults in others, you're not going to have any time to see the good in people... and you'll be missing the best parts of people... you'll be missing the person altogether. Why can't people just be nice to one another? If you want people to be supportive then be supportive. If you want people to see the best in you then look for the best in other people. If you want to be raised higher, then lift somebody else up. If you want a friend, be a friend. Aren't these all things we learned in kindergarten. Buck up!!!

It's been almost a week since I've published a blog. I have nothing interesting to say. No stories to tell. No weird happenings. I think it probably is partly due to the fact that I'm not interesting and partly due to the fact that I have completely cut myself off from family (and most everything else) for the past week or so and consequently have no funny anecdotes to share with the one or two people who still read my blog. Oh well. Life goes on. I'll run into things, people will laugh. I'll talk, nobody will understand what I'm saying. I'll try to be funny, crickets will chirp. I'll try to be serious, people will laugh. I'll ignore my family, they'll get ticked. I'll pack the suitcase but won't actually go. I feel good about it. Real good. Ya. Strong...

When I was younger I used to love sugar cubes. I would tell my mother I needed them for some art project so she would buy them for me. And then I would eat them. Sometimes I would hide them under my bed. Or for variation, in a drawer. I'd usually create a little sugar cube house or tower before I ate them. Just so I wouldn't be a complete liar. Sugar cubes... yum...

Today, as I was leaving the scrapbook store, I saw a girl I knew from back home. She's a few years older than me and she always thought of me as being a bit crazy. Partly because I would hang out with her mom who was crazy and partly because I would hang out with her brother who was crazy. Anyway, I saw her coming out of a store and I got so excited that I raced around a corner in the parking lot, pulled past her car while she was backing out, blocked her in, jumped out of my car and screamed, "I know you!" She calmly pulled her car back into her parking spot (it was the only place she could go anyway) and got out of the car. I put my hazard lights on and left it blocking about eight cars in the spaces and the aisle.
"Are you just going to leave your car there?" She looked at me suspiciously.
"Yep. How are you? I was wondering if you were going to stick around for the summer! I haven't seen you all year!"
"Ya..." Suddenly recognition dawns on her face. "Ya! My mom said you were down here."
We talked for a few minutes until I decided I should move my car. As I was leaving I thought... "Wow... no wonder she always thought I was crazy. I really am." It took her a while to recognize me and I laughed as I thought about what must have been going through her mind the first minute or so when this complete stranger who was obviously insane pulled a 007 and jumped from the car pointing and screaming excitedly. It makes sense that she didn't recognize me though. The last time she saw me I was about 30 pounds heavier, had about 2 feet of extra hair and I was wet from the rain. Wow. Thank goodness for change... and automatic steering.

Yesterday, while getting out of my car, I hit my head. I hit it hard. Ouch. Ya, that hurt. But my first thought right after it happened wasn't even "ow" it was "well, at least I'll remember where that bump came from." And I was happy. I smiled all the way to my apartment (while clutching my head... it really did hurt.) I don't know why this is important or what it means.

If you were a superhero what kind of super power would you have? Hmmmm????

Apparantly I would have "Super Guts" which means that...

When the forces of Evil really start to hit the fan, when the Flipside Super Universe is really headed for all-out battle and the Superheroes are all getting a little skurred, who will come to the rescue? That's right, you. You and your Super Guts. You'll be the one that knows for sure that the battle can be won, and you'll be the one brave enough to jump in front of the Evil Army and be all "DUDES! CUT IT OUT! WHAT'S UP WITH ALL THE EVILNESS?"

Which leads to another important question... What is up with all the evilness??

I talked to my mom today. She's dying. Again. This time it's a serious heart condition. The test results come in on Wednesday. When I was talking to her I couldn't help but be a bit afraid. But before I allowed myself to cry, I remembered a story. A story that changed my life. It's called The Little Boy Who Cried Wolf. Most of you know it. And if you don't, then your childhood was more abnormal than mine. But in either case, let's recap.
The little boy is in charge of a bunch of sheep. But watching sheep is boring. He thinks and one of the only ways to get the attention of the towns people is to yell out a warning of a wolf attack. "Crying wolf" would immediately evoke the sympathy and support of the towns people who would rush up the hill to his aide to help kill/scare away the wolf and rescue the sheep and the little boy. So, to gain attention (and a good laugh) he cried wolf. The towns people rush in, the boy laughs, and the towns people scold him as they leave. False alarm. Very upsetting. Again, the boy cries wolf. Another rush of people, another good laugh, more scolding and the crowd departs. Again, the boy cries wolf with the same results. (Remember that in all good stories everything happens in threes.) But then something interesting happens. A wolf comes. One sheep down. "Wolf! Wolf!" The boy cries for help. But this time nobody comes. His sheep are dropping like flies while all the others scatter. "Wolf! Wolf!" Nothing. Before he knows it, the sheep are devoured, he's in a lot of trouble with his father and all the towns people who also had sheep (or other investments) in the flock, and he's barely escaped with his life. And why did nobody come to his aid? Because he had falsely cried wolf so many times that nobody believed him anymore. He had misused the power of alarm, took advantage of their sympathy and good will and then when he needed it most, it was gone.
But let's get back to my mother. This isn't the first time she's claimed to be dying. This isn't the first time she's had a "major disease." And quite frankly, it won't be her last. (Unless, of course, it is. Then I'd feel really bad.) But every time she "cries wolf" I can't help but rush to her. I'm the stupid towns person. The one who runs to the rescue every time (unarmed because 1) I'm scared of guns and 2) I'm not smart enough to think about preparing myself to actually defend the sheep), gets laughed at and then, when the alarm isn't false, gets mauled by the wolf while the stupid boy hides behind a rock. But I can't help it. Even as I'm running up the hill, I know what's going to happen. I know how the story ends. But I can't turn around. I can't ignore the cry. Why? Why? I guess I love the stubborn boy. I'd rather get mocked. I'd rather let the boy poke me with his shepherding staff than risk hearing later that the wolf did come and that the sheep and maybe even the boy are gone. I'd rather go there, even if I'm unarmed and risk being mauled than live without trying to help. I'm a fool. Don't the other towns people care? Where are they? Where?? Throw me a bone here!! I can't be the only town idiot...

Today at the gym...
25 minutes into my 30 minute runner workout thingy...
Me: (listening to my walkman... my female rage CD... just running along... in place... on the runner workout thingy...)
Random old lady (50?) with weird purple head band: (walks into room and up to my machine. stares and glares.)
Me: (smiles at lady then ignores her and continues to run)
ROL: (rolls her eyes, maybe said something?, goes to treadmill and starts walking)
Me: (runs. looks into mirror and sees ROL staring at me and glaring. smile back. my workout ends...)
ROL: (jumps off of treadmill and rushes to my side)
Me: (start my 5 min cooldown)
ROL: (stands next to me and glares)
Me: (turns down my "female rage" and turns to her.) I'm sorry, are you waiting for this machine?
ROL: (very upset. rolls eyes.) YES! Most people don't go around twice!
Me: Oh, I'm not. You see? I'm on my 5 min cooldown. I have only 4 min left and then I'll be done.
ROL: Most people don't do that! (Rolls eyes again and huffs some heavy breaths.)
Me: (stares in disbelief. is she seriously mad?)
ROL: (glares and huffs and puffs, hands on hips)
Me: Okay. (go back to ignoring ROL. turn up music.)
ROL: (returns to treadmill, staring and glaring until the 4 min were up.)

Apparantly I'm not most people. Thank you Ms. State the Obvious.

What's even funnier, though... If after I had asked her if she was waiting for the machine, she had said, "Yes. Are you about done?" I would have said, "The cooldown's not important. You can have it now." (Goodness knows I was tired enough to quit then anyways.) But just because she was being all bratty I purposely stayed on for the whole cooldown period. Wow, I'm really mature.