The Story of the Three Little Roommates and the Big Bad Feline

    Once upon a time in a iceberg land marked  Rexburg there lived 6 little roommates. One Sabbath night when only three of the roomies were home they heard a voice at the door purr "little girls, little girls let me come in". The roomies promptly replied in unison "not by the hair of pale skinny legs". So the mysterious voice jumped on the window sill. It turned out to be a calico mini monster. It shivered and meowed pathetically "oh please let me come in, I'm afraid that my chattering will cause your house to tumble in! I've already shuck up a straw house and stick house. I'd hate to make your establishment to come in too!"
So although the roomies knew the small underfed terror wouldn't be able to make the bricks on their apartment quiver, they decided to open their homes and hearts to the demolisher. She quickly scurried in. Suddenly the roomies realized this spastic act of generosity could cost them their endorsements at BYU-I . They thought to themselves: "Well, I've made better decisions in my life." After making that mistake they decide to make another by naming her.
As Willemenia perused the apartment, the 3 culprits pondered how to get themselves out of their predicament. They tried kicking her back out into the snow when they went to a church meeting. Unfortunately the girls had very tender hearts and it hurt them to see her in the cold.  So the opened their neighbor's and let her in.
When they returned home they found their charge waiting for them outside their door.
The let they fur ball stay the night. Then as 2 of the roomies went to sleep the other decided to make their third mistake and feed it. When they were all three snugly under their covers Willemenia made her rounds to their beds were she made sure to keep them up for at least an hour or two. The last victim was to kind-hearted to evict the unwanted bed companion so decided to wake up every 10 minutes and fuss about the cuddlier whom she worried would roll over and suffocate.
When her alarm went off the mooch decide to get up to and follow her around the bathroom and kitchen, meowing and begging for food. The irritated guilt ridden girl shared her breakfast with Willemenia then hurried off to school to fret about the cat and her own possible eviction from Rexburg. She came home ready to vanquish that havoc to the pound. Much to her relief the 4th roommate informed her that she would be taking Willemenia home with her over Thanksgiving break and leaving her there. The roommates rejoiced over their fate and the cats destiny. And they all lived after.
The moral of this story: never let a cat in the house or they will eat up your food storage, thereby dooming you for the apocalypse, and will curse you with insomnia.Only allow foam mouth dogs in. They are safe.

Defeating the Hamburger

It was a cold and snowy day. I could feel the icy air traveling down my trachea weaving its way to my heart where icicles were already forming. My cold heart was fettered to its path while the rest of my body begged I relent from this foolish endeavor. "Turn back while there's still time!" my mind warned; "spare me, I cannot bare the load!" my GI tract pleaded; "have pity on those who have worked tirelessly in your service, use us to walk another path- don't make us take another step in this direction!" was the haunting of my feet.
Still I pressed on. Against all logic I called upon the strength of my unwilling arms to push the doors open. I stepped in. The smell of frying atheromatous plaque reminded me that this was exactly the place I should not be. I sat down. I placed my order. I waited. Pictures of past fools were hanging on the wall of fame to my right. "The 1 Pound Challenge", "The 2 Pound Challenge", "The 3 Pound Challenge" it read all the way up to 6 pounds. I was already sick.
But what could I do? To turn back on was cowardly- I could not. What was taking them so long to bring me my fate? Then it came:
The hamburger, stared up at me mockingly. There was only one way to wipe that smug smile off it's taunting face: eat it. So with great bravado I hid my intimidation and bit in. One bit was followed by a second until it was the burger that wore the look of fear. But words are meaningless to describe such a battle. See the highlights yourself:
 I ate a ¾
 ½ gone
 Indeed, it was barbaric.
1/4 is all that remains
 Vanquished
I won. My body hates me. I go to the gym and run 6 miles. My body labels me repugnant to its sense of wholesome decorum. The end result: I vow to never again to embark on the quest of fools. What are they trying to prove by eating more then we’re given natural capability? Does it prove valor, courage, or tenacity? No it proves you’re a monster. A fiend of the fast food chain. Big Judd’s has conquered me- I am now on their wall of shame, but I can promise this: that is the last time I will take on such a dare.

Has it really been two weeks?

 Yesterday I went to my bosom friend Katie's wedding shower in Utah. Is there anything more wonderful then seeing the people you care about happy? I'm so glad I was able to go and celebrate with with some one who has been a wonderful friend to me. And I just like wedding showers in general.
I think that the second best part of the trip (first was seeing Katie) was making the trip. So much time for reflection and imagining! I love driving through the fields and mountains. I love living in Idaho.

Last week I went and got my hair cut with my roommate Amber. We didn't go to one the hair schools. We decided branch out and go to a little shop above a house. I will say that I found it to be a very enlightening. I think I now understand what makes a good hair stylist. Talent? That is only a fraction of the equation. The key to success in that field is flattery. I left that little shop thinking: maybe I'll pay my way through school by marketing locks of my hair to billionaires with a passion for the true beauties found in strings of dead cells.
I thought I could apply this to my nursing career but I don't know if patients would believe when I told them "that is the most artistic in- grown toenail I have ever seen" or "wow- I love the way you change your colostomy bag. It's like an interpretive dance."

The Wretched Book of Faces

Last week as I was indexing at apartment #9 comrade Izzy bemoaned "you know I have all these pictures of you from ward activities but I can't tag you because you don't have facebook."
Alas my weakness was discovered. That very night I reunited with my long lost addiction. I was conquered. I was vanquished. My love of pictures of, well, myself... AND others. But mostly myself- has overcome a solid year of being a anti facebook fantastic. But now what self respecting cyber socializing novice will speak to me? I am left to the vices of conterfeit socializing.
On the bright side I did reunite with some great friends and get a lot of pictures. Please reminisce with me as I peruse my newly acquired treasures:

Utah Nursing Trip

Utah Nursing Trip

It may seem that our FHE group isjust ignoring each other but actually we are Indexing, a very noble cause indeed 

My ward hike. This is the beginning of the snake river, er that's what they told me.

Nursing Utah Trip

Utah Nursing Trip

Utah Nursing Trip

Taryn's Bridal Shower. As an entertainer this was one of my finer moments

Ward activity. I'm so glad I participate in these kind of things

Nursing Utah Trip. Look at those girls- aren't they cute!

   

Perspective

As I was trudging through the preemptive Rexburg snow this afternoon I pondered what I would do for my spiritual thought in Nursing 211.
Understand: giving the spiritual thought a heavy and coveted responsibility. The first day of class the instructor passes around the 'Thought Sign Up'. I see it make it pass the first row. I witness students scribble on it in the second row and 3rd. Yet- I know not where they sign up; for when the paper makes it pilgrimage to my seat, alas it is full of names with not another slot available. That thing fills up with names like seats for Phantom of the Opera fill: it happens every time and for no apparent reason. Honestly- who wants to watch a musical about an old sewer dweller seducing a chorus girl? 
This time however, things were different. Before the first seat had a chance to draw out a writing utilize I hand my weapons ready and loaded. I was swinging nunchucks, shootin' gold bullets, splitting tables in half with my bare hands and spitting my John Hancock all over the dead slice of tree (save the rain forest!)
I am very relieved to know that I will give the thought at least once before I graduate. Now back the initital perplexment:
As I said, I was trudging and pondering about what thought I should given for my hard won moment of spot light. And a song like a nymph of the forest, like a dove of the lilac tree, like a angel of mercy! came ringing in my ears. I knew what the thought would be.
Listen to it yourself. Only the dialog in the beginning shall be utilized. Feel free to take the message to heart, my gift to you:
 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iF_w7oaBHNo&noredirect=1
WARNING: watching the whole thing might be painful if colorful young men make you feel uncomfortable.
     

The Tides of Change

My faithful readers: you may have noticed that I changed the name of my blog. After much deliberation and consideration I have determined to change the name of my cyberspace home to something less grotesque and more reflective of myself.

In other news- actually there is no other news. Life is merrily placid. Sense I have no news to report I would like to reminisce. My memory takes me back a year from this time when I was living with my sister in Denver.

My book of thoughts reminds me of the time when they weren’t the only books I mused over. My little nephews loved to read so we spent hours upon hours reading! When we weren’t reading they would want to play jungle. Tyton became  very good at narrating. Here is a sample of his dialog:

Tyton- mummy lion (me) we need to save monkeys, said the daddy lion.

Me- how are we going to that?

Tyton- we will fight the bad guys, said the daddy lion

Tyton- ok lets go help those monkeys said Katy (that’s me) to the daddy lion.

I think Tyton had heard ‘he said’- ‘she said’ so much in our reading that he assumed we used in our everyday language. What an observant kid!  I hope more parents will take time to read with their children as my sister and her husband have done with theirs. I’ve learned from those boys that they don’t always want candy and movies. More than anything they want your time!

Love's Labour- totally worth it!

Love. There is nothing sweeter purer, or more prevalent in everything from the mass media to our every day thoughts. It is in the opera, tis in the R & B, woven into the movies, shadowed in our paintings, masked in our faces, played out in our novels, and strung into our conversations. It illuminates those who have found it. Those who seek it are like a thirsty orchid in a plentiful rain forest- denying the plenty of the land to quench it’s parched  lips. And those who have lost it are like the eagle once ruling the sky then finding itself trapped in a cage with a glass ceiling.

Friends, my lot has been that of the captive eagle, until now. I was blissfully reunited with my true love only just yester eve. That’s right the truck and I have found each other again and rekindled or passion for one another’s company. After years of being in the cab of another (Skippy), I have found my soul mate again. I must confess I had hoped to find myself in my lover’s driver seat much sooner; but alas, this was not to be as my brother was going through some drama with his own truck, forcing me to watch as my heart’s keeper was driven by another.

Then yester day these words came from my father: “would you like to take the truck and go get Vasa from practice?”

Would I like to paint a masterpiece, meet George Washington, have lunch with President Monson, and play tag on the moon? Thousand times yes! Oh sweet mercy for giving me back this gem I had lost.  

As we pulled out the first steps were somewhat timid and haltering (actually it was the transmission) but things were just like old times. And I hope it always stays that way between us.

Please ignore the fact that I can't pose and just enjoy the splender of the truck with me. 

the invisible pictures

I don't know why the pictures didn't show up, but here they are again:
This last picture has a tender place in my heart as it may be one of the last toothless pictures I have for (hopefully) a very long time.

Make ME!

Do you know what irks me? Every time I go to make a new post the first thing I am prompted to do is make a title. How can I be expected to think of a title before I've written anything? Also, I'm sorely handicapped when it comes to making titles. The title portion of my brain never developed properly due to brain hypoxia inflicted in the pool by a sibling (who shall remain nameless) who tried to drown me on numerous occasions.

While I'm on the subject of family- Thursday the 11th was my dad's birthday. My sisters Jill and Cheryl thought that it would be grand to surprise him by showing up at his weekly basketball game to cheer him on and then take him out to lunch. They were right-, it was grand. I took pictures of the occasion- very nice ones too- but I can't figure out how to get them onto my parent’s computer. It doesn't seem like a daunting task so just trust me, it is.

Weekend before last my pals Alicia, Ashley, and Sara went to my cabin so we could do baptisms for the dead at the Snowflake temple. It was so wonderful to be able to go to the temple up in the mountains. Heck, it's great just to be in the mountains. I had a lot of fun. Fortunately I have pictures of this occasion through Alicia's forethought in bringing her camera and generosity in emailing me the pictures. Sbacebo Alicia.

Unfortunatley, I have not figured out how to rotate pictures.  (Ashley, Me, Sara)

Nor can I shrink pictures. This is Alicia

More of us Beautiful girls at the Temple.

This is us watching the sunset on the roof while drinking my parents hidden/ forbidden stash of postum. I remember why I never cared for it as a child.

Since my last post I have been busy doing many mundane things. I can't recall most of what it is and don't feel like giving it a lot of detail so here's the quick overview. I had my eyes dilated. And it felt scary.

I've been cleaning houses for my dad. Last week I spent a night at my sister Cheryl's house so she could go out of town with her husband Dave. I always fear spending too much time with my nephews and nieces because I can't be really nice ALL the time. I fear I may have lost some points in likability and it's going to be tough to get it back.

Last Sunday in Singles Ward while giving the announcements Brother Neilson asked me to come up and chorister. I pointed at my forehead to confirm that he meant me and not some other Katy/Clara. He meant me. I vaguely remember volunteering to lead the music if the chorister wasn't there. But I volunteer for stuff all the time and it's very hard to keep track of what I say I'll do. Moral of the story is: learn the lessons from your parents that they've been laboring to teach you from before (like leading music) and never volunteer for anything unless you actually know how to do it. You may think, they'll never really ask me to do it anyways; or I'll be gone before they can hold that against me. Wrong! 

Vasa the word wiz

I like to include pictures in my blog but I'm not very good at reminding myself that my camera is collecting dust in disgust. So instead I will try to paint a picture with my words. Blah- haha, fat chance!
Today after church Vasa changed out of his Sunday clothes and was probably listening to his children's Russian music CD while in his room. You can always tell when Vasa's been listening to that CD because he begins to attempt to impress us with his foreign vocabulary. Case in point:
Vas walks upstairs after changing his clothes.
Me- How goes it Vasa?
Vasa- What? (Furrowed brow and squinty eyes)
Me- How goes it?
Vasa- Oh, you're speaking your Italian.
Me- What?
Vasa- your Italian.
Me- it's just a question Vasa so just answer it.
Vasa- хорошо
Me- Vasa, I'm speaking English so just answer the question naturally.
Vasa- Я сказал, что буду хорошим
Me- I'm glad you’re doing good.
Oh Vasa, you dear sweet boy.

Well, I have been home for a week and it feels like seven. But I love it! I love swimming every day, collecting skin cancer, jumping on the tramp with my nephews and nieces, arguing with my brothers, cleaning the cat litter, and taking my time. Do you remember what it feels like to take your time? To just say- I could rust through this, but I think I'll really make a difference and do this right. I forgot what that feels like but I'm relearning.

Sweet Justice- my own room

Well the spring semester at BYUI has come to an end and I am home again. I don't know if any of you realize this but Arizona is a little on the scorching hot side of the planet. I refuse to walk outside whilst the sun's out for fear the sun's stinging rays will suck all my H2O out of me. Not today heat rays! Actually, I really haven't been outside with the sun out since I got here- but it only noon of day one.

A lot has happened since my last post. Here are the 3 things I think most worth telling:

• My computer broke down. RIP little guy, but why did you have to take my music files down with you? That was a little harsh.
• I fell in a canal while canoeing at my Bishops house. I could say a lot on this or a little. So let me just say there was no good reason I fell in and I was highly embarrassed.
• I finally went on a date! I'm going to keep this short as well and just tell you my favorite part: we read For the Strength of Youth before watching Cars. Blah, ha ha! Then- we discussed it! Really it was quite tender.

So now that I'm home I plan to exercise (I need to keep up with the standard Military Fitness set for me) do homework, be with family and stay awesome.

Katie if you happen to read this, don't worry I'm sending you the uncut version. 

Me + Nature= it's complicated

So a couple of weeks ago my ward went on a hike to Warm Creek. I was going to stay home and cuddle with my homework, but I thought we needed a break- our relationship is getting to be a little strained.
Anyways, the hike was really fun and gorgeous! Idaho is so beautiful and I'm glad I took a break. Once we reached our destination we ate lunch, I drowned myself in the creek for a few minutes (I had to get my clothes wet, I needed a sovereign), and then we got a hay ride to out to Mesa Falls. Also stunning.
The sun was out too as future skin cancer will reveal. It was so worth it.

This is when I left the railing. Call me Rebel.

Decades!!! Why must I love you so?

So this week I went to Utah for a mandatory Nursing trip. I forgot my camera so I have no real evidence of the event. Sometimes I awaken in a cold sweat and wonder, did it really happen, or is it a phantom day dream?
No! It did happen and I bought a dress as proof. I really intended to just browse, which is a piece of cake at the mall. Then Decades happened. Something about vintage clothing and the smell of moth balls makes my wallet pop out of my hand.

Anyways here's the dress I found. I Googled the tag (Cofa's Closest) and found out it's from the 70's. Tender.

And so it begins...

Colase equals gross. If you don't know what Colase is, I'll clue you in: it's a stool softener. Yes, I donned it as a blog name. But, I feel that it is very appropriate. I consider blogging to be a public dairy, and why do we keep dairies? They're not like journals- they're not documents that posterity can behold decades from now and understand our day and age. No, they are the place we poop out our thoughts. So, as I consider my thoughts to have been very constipated and stuck in my brain for a very long time. I think I need to be medicated. Bring on the stool softener! Colase, work your magic.