One day I will write a book. A memoir perhaps. This is why I love it when people do crazy wonderful or just crazy things in my life. One day they'll be a chapter in my story. But don't make me hate you or I'll edit you out. Or perhaps it's worse revenge to leave some people in the story. I've been meaning to sit down and write a vague, more factual, time-line type of life story. Obviously it doesn't happen. It's too much like journaling, which I loathe. Dear journal..blah blah. Who cares? I think writing is meant to be read and shared. Not locked with a key and kept secret. However, I'm thinking I'm just not ready for some people to know some things about my life and me. That is why ONE DAY I will write a book. But, in order to help motivate me to write my lifestory I am going to write down as many snippets of memories as I can think of in five minutes. Ready. Go.
Odd that this came to me first, but I remember picking up grasshoppers in the yard at our old Hyrum house with my cousins. I believe I chased my sisters with them. I went through a "bugs are cool" phase when I was younger. Now I just squish them.
{Sorry, Mom} I remember finding used tampon applicators in the trash and using them to make birdfeeders. Since I didn't have birdseed, I just spread peanut butter on them and hung them from a tree in the FRONT yard! Ugh..how embarrassing for all those involved.
Once, I found a garter snake in the garden at our house in Iowa. I named him Ziggy and I love him for about twenty minutes. Then the neighbors boys tried to feed him and broke his jaw. He died. Poor Ziggy.
On that note, I once found a dead mouse outside and named him Timothy. I put him in a Jiffy muffin box and buried him. I didn't understand why everyone thought that was so gross. I'm surprised I survived that.
I used to set up a stand outside our house and sell rocks. Yeah..rocks. I thought they were neat. I failed to realize that people could get rocks anywhere...for free...
I was always a devil or a clown for Halloween. Except for that one year. That time I was Wonder Woman.
I still miss the nights in summer when I was about 12. We would go to Quintin's house {it was pink} and play night games. I wish I could still do that. His mom made the best doughnuts.
Once we put Quintin's cat inside the grill. We thought we were hilarious. Don't worry..it wasn't on.
I think that's all I've got for now. Except for one thing that only a select few will understand. They probably don't read this anyway...but...corndog.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Sunday, July 26, 2009
The Perks of Being a Wallflower
I just finished reading The Perks of Being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky. It quickly climbed it's way into my top 10 favorite books. I recommend it to all of you who have not read it. If you have read it..read it again. I love it that much. Since I've been slow to posting on here lately, I thought I'd share with you a poem from the book that I love very much. It's morbidly wonderful.
Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Chops"
because that was the name of his dog
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts
That was the year that Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
valentine signed with a row of X's
and he had to ask his father what the X's meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it
Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Autumn"
because that was the name of the season
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint
And the kids told him
that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed
when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it.
Once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Innocence: A Question"
because that was the question about his girl
And that's what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A
and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because he never showed her
That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
of the Apostle's Creed went
And he caught his sister making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
or even talked
And the girl around the corner
wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her
but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
And at three A.M. he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly
That's why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem
And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"
Because that's what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didn't think
he could reach the kitchen.
Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Chops"
because that was the name of his dog
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts
That was the year that Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
valentine signed with a row of X's
and he had to ask his father what the X's meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it
Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Autumn"
because that was the name of the season
And that's what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint
And the kids told him
that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed
when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it.
Once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
And he called it "Innocence: A Question"
because that was the question about his girl
And that's what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A
and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because he never showed her
That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
of the Apostle's Creed went
And he caught his sister making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
or even talked
And the girl around the corner
wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her
but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
And at three A.M. he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly
That's why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem
And he called it "Absolutely Nothing"
Because that's what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didn't think
he could reach the kitchen.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
The body of a mother
"When a woman is twenty, a child deforms her; when she is thirty, he preserves her; and when forty, he makes her young again."
Leon Blum
I was twenty years old when a child deformed me. I stared at the little pink lines that confirmed my pregnancy and read the instructions over and over, convinced I had read it wrong. And from that moment, my body has never been the same. An even stronger confirmation than the pink lines were the waves of nausea, the exhaustion, the mood swings. Then the tightening waistbands and the baby bump. My son's Christmas gift to me was purple stripes across my belly. Pregnancy is a complete transformation. It is the first way that a child changes you. Pregnancy and birth quite literally scar your once perfect body. At times I look in the mirror with contempt for my new body, but today, I honor it. I am grateful for the little extra tummy flab that proves that I made the ultimate sacrifice of sharing my body with another. I am grateful for every stretch mark that bears witness to the child that grew inside me. I am even grateful for the way my chest sags giving proof that my body can sustain life from within and from without. I am grateful for the width of my hips that allowed me to bring a child out into the world and to hold him at my side as he grows. I respect and honor every inch of my new body.
Before my son, the moments that held the title "the best" were few and far between. No other moment can hold a candle to birth. Now I am blessed with moments almost daily that I can call "the best." All my baby has to do is lay his sweet, sleepy head on my shoulder and I melt into a puddle. Every time he reaches out to touch my face or gives me one of those cheesy, toothless grins my heart swells. I was twenty years old when a child deformed me. I was also twenty years old when I learned the meaning of life. When have you ever heard a mother question why she is on this earth? We don't ask, because each time we look into the eyes of our child, we know. Even after my son is grown and gone, I will remember. He has tatooed himself on my heart and on my body. And I will never resent the fact that skinny jeans might not fit, because I brought a child into the world. And no accomplishment, no weight, no perfect body could ever eclipse that joy.
Before my son, the moments that held the title "the best" were few and far between. No other moment can hold a candle to birth. Now I am blessed with moments almost daily that I can call "the best." All my baby has to do is lay his sweet, sleepy head on my shoulder and I melt into a puddle. Every time he reaches out to touch my face or gives me one of those cheesy, toothless grins my heart swells. I was twenty years old when a child deformed me. I was also twenty years old when I learned the meaning of life. When have you ever heard a mother question why she is on this earth? We don't ask, because each time we look into the eyes of our child, we know. Even after my son is grown and gone, I will remember. He has tatooed himself on my heart and on my body. And I will never resent the fact that skinny jeans might not fit, because I brought a child into the world. And no accomplishment, no weight, no perfect body could ever eclipse that joy.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Nikki's Guide to Driving in Utah
We all already know that Utah drivers suck. We're quite proud of our skills, really. In fact, the only drivers worse than Utahns, are drivers from Idaho. Here in the Beehive State, the DMV gave us a piece of plastic with a hideous picture of ourselves on it, and therefore, we are entitled to the road. We own it. Hey, you! Get off my damn road! For those of you who may have been taught to drive in another state, I've gone through the trouble of writing up a how-to so that you too can drive like a Utahn. You can thank me later.
Lesson One: Passing Pokies
We nearly always pass on the right. You may have been taught that the left lane is for passing. You pass the pokies and move back over right? No, sir...not in this state. Unfortunately for drivers from the other 49 states, Driver's Ed went in one ear and out the other in Utah. Why is it that the slow pokes think they belong in the fast lane, anyway? Just about the only time I pass on the left is when there is a very large, slow tractor driving down the side of the road. Farmers own the road too, I guess.
Lesson Two: The Plus 5 Rule
The speed limit is actually the posted number + 5. If you're not going 60 in the 55, get out of the way. If you're going faster than that, pass me on the right and enjoy your ticket. A cop (who had pulled over a friend of mine) actually told us that cops in this valley will not pull you over for a mere 5 over. The only time I ever actually go the posted limit is when I'm blocked by two pokies or driving the company vehicle. I have a theory that if people on main street actually went the speed limit, the amount of traffic would improve. My mom always said (and has been proven right on several occasions) if you're stuck behind a slow poke, it's probably an old man in a hat. Look for yourself next time. Therefore, I propose, old men in hats should be limited to back roads and buses.
Lesson Three: Avoiding a Ticket
There are certain areas where you must (ABSOLUTELY MUST) obey the laws. Locals know the hot spots for cops and speed traps. If you know better, you will not speed through Nibley (besides the allowed 5 over). If you're smart, you will not roll through a stop sign in Providence. I happened to learn that one the hard way. And at night, be aware of reflective vehicles and cars parked in sneaky places. It's also a good idea to be careful near the end of the month or you may fall subject to the rumored "quota".
Lesson Four: Drive Distracted
You may not drive unless you are currently being distracted by one of the following: children, iPod, cell phone, GPS, an old man in a hat, or a built in DVD player.
Lesson Five: Traffic Lights
Yellow means speed up and the first 4 seconds of a red light ("Pink Lights") mean speed up more.
Lesson Six: Intersections
It's acceptable to stop in an intersection on Main Street when traffic is backed up. You will have altleast 3 opportunities to do so if you are in Logan at the right time of day.
Lesson Seven: Stinkin' Peds
Pedestrians don't have the right of way. Drivers own the road, remember?
There you have it. Follow these simple rules and you'll be driving like an idiot in no time. You'll fit right in. Happy driving, Utah.
Lesson One: Passing Pokies
We nearly always pass on the right. You may have been taught that the left lane is for passing. You pass the pokies and move back over right? No, sir...not in this state. Unfortunately for drivers from the other 49 states, Driver's Ed went in one ear and out the other in Utah. Why is it that the slow pokes think they belong in the fast lane, anyway? Just about the only time I pass on the left is when there is a very large, slow tractor driving down the side of the road. Farmers own the road too, I guess.
Lesson Two: The Plus 5 Rule
The speed limit is actually the posted number + 5. If you're not going 60 in the 55, get out of the way. If you're going faster than that, pass me on the right and enjoy your ticket. A cop (who had pulled over a friend of mine) actually told us that cops in this valley will not pull you over for a mere 5 over. The only time I ever actually go the posted limit is when I'm blocked by two pokies or driving the company vehicle. I have a theory that if people on main street actually went the speed limit, the amount of traffic would improve. My mom always said (and has been proven right on several occasions) if you're stuck behind a slow poke, it's probably an old man in a hat. Look for yourself next time. Therefore, I propose, old men in hats should be limited to back roads and buses.
Lesson Three: Avoiding a Ticket
There are certain areas where you must (ABSOLUTELY MUST) obey the laws. Locals know the hot spots for cops and speed traps. If you know better, you will not speed through Nibley (besides the allowed 5 over). If you're smart, you will not roll through a stop sign in Providence. I happened to learn that one the hard way. And at night, be aware of reflective vehicles and cars parked in sneaky places. It's also a good idea to be careful near the end of the month or you may fall subject to the rumored "quota".
Lesson Four: Drive Distracted
You may not drive unless you are currently being distracted by one of the following: children, iPod, cell phone, GPS, an old man in a hat, or a built in DVD player.
Lesson Five: Traffic Lights
Yellow means speed up and the first 4 seconds of a red light ("Pink Lights") mean speed up more.
Lesson Six: Intersections
It's acceptable to stop in an intersection on Main Street when traffic is backed up. You will have altleast 3 opportunities to do so if you are in Logan at the right time of day.
Lesson Seven: Stinkin' Peds
Pedestrians don't have the right of way. Drivers own the road, remember?
There you have it. Follow these simple rules and you'll be driving like an idiot in no time. You'll fit right in. Happy driving, Utah.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Seven reasons I'm a Logan Cubs fan
This post is dedicated to my husband and the other members of the Logan Cubs baseball team.
Here are the top 7 reasons I love to cheer on the Logan Cubs.
7. I love my new baseball family.
6. Because the coach has never thrown a base, screamed at an ump, or held a grudge against one of his players.
5. No one loves baseball quite like Ajay Salvesen. It is splendid and refreshing to watch.
4. Because, if I were a Blue Sox fan, I'd gain 90 pounds eating Lion Pups and double cheeseburgers. Best to stick with a team who only occasionally takes me to the Smithfield diamond.
3.Because my husband looks HOT in red and blue.
2. I have a soft spot for underdogs.
1. It sure beats the hell out of being a Hyrum Hornets fan every day of the week (and twice on Saturdays!)
Here are the top 7 reasons I love to cheer on the Logan Cubs.
7. I love my new baseball family.
6. Because the coach has never thrown a base, screamed at an ump, or held a grudge against one of his players.
5. No one loves baseball quite like Ajay Salvesen. It is splendid and refreshing to watch.
4. Because, if I were a Blue Sox fan, I'd gain 90 pounds eating Lion Pups and double cheeseburgers. Best to stick with a team who only occasionally takes me to the Smithfield diamond.
3.Because my husband looks HOT in red and blue.
2. I have a soft spot for underdogs.
1. It sure beats the hell out of being a Hyrum Hornets fan every day of the week (and twice on Saturdays!)
Musings
Welcome to my new blog. I am dedicating it completely to my musings. Did you know I've always wanted to be a writer? So..instead of actually fulfilling the 3-4 book ideas floating in my head on a daily basis...I'll just empty my mind onto here..
Musings (Plural Noun): Thoughts, especially when aimless and unsystematic.
I doubt I could find a more appropriate title....
Musings (Plural Noun): Thoughts, especially when aimless and unsystematic.
I doubt I could find a more appropriate title....
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