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.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Sunday, November 13, 2011
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.
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 VanquishedI 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.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
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."
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."
Sunday, October 16, 2011
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:
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! |
Friday, October 7, 2011
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.
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.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
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!
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)