101 Reasons I love Reem, Part 3

A few weeks ago the excessively charming Reem told me about what I thought was the best/most marketable/hilariously original idea I've heard in a long while. I could very easily see this idea of hers as a successful blog, a book or a segment on some hilarious show like Fallon. So, I told her she should blog this. While there's no blog yet she has taken to the page and started journaling. On Sunday night she read me an entry she'd written after our conversation about this idea and about the pending end of the world, entitled "I have two weeks to live."


In classic Reem style it was charming, funny, and a little over dramatic. One line from the entry was, "I asked Molly what I should do with the little time I had left and she suggested I blog." So, in the reality that Reem is putting forth to her progeny and anyone else she is sharing it with currently, I am being presented as someone who sees blogging as something that should be prioritized in order to live a fulfilling existence (if I am telling her to make it a top concern before the world/Mayan calendar comes to an end) and yet here I am with a blog so scarcely populated and so sporadically updated of late that I am being made to look a fool and a hypocrite.  Well no more, Reem/Reem's journal/Reem's progeny. No more.


New Year's Resolution #3 - blog more frequently. For me and for you, my sweet friends who keep asking me to. I promise I will try, but I can't always be funny and snarky, and I know that's what you want, but it's just not always in me. Lie. It is always in me, but it is not always in me to document my snark. But will try.

Tucked behind Ralph's on Rte 123

Wednesday morning, I was talking to Nancy, a super sassy girl at work whom I find pretty funny. I said something that reminded her of a song by RuPaul, and when I said I hadn't heard it she told me I had to look in to it, that RuPaul and all drag queens were the greatest ever, and that she was probably a drag queen in a past life.

Thursday morning, Nancy handed me a thank you card to fill out with a pen. I then reached for my cute pink pen to sign it with. Before I passed on the card to someone else to sign, I read the pen, "Van Nuys Center for Cosmetic Surgery - Specializing in Difficult Gender Reassignments - Tucked behind Ralph's on Rte 123 - call 800 - ALLNEWU"

I asked Nancy if that was hers*, and she told me that the very innocent looking, middle aged, LDS bookkeeper at the school had given it to one of our students because it had green on it, and he's obsessed with all things green.  We passed the pen around and got a good giggle out of it - specifically the "tucked behind..." line. A quick google search found that this pen is from an anti-theft line of pens. But I am super curious how this bookkeeper, who clearly hadn't read or understood the pen at all because she gave it to a 13 year old with special needs, came to have this pen in the first place. Is she so worried about people stealing her pens that she would have these hilarious things in a school, or is she a pen thief?

*thinking that the "past life" she mentioned might have just been a past time in this life

Compliments and Reciprocation - A delicate balance

There are a few things that I really like to study in the process of interacting with other humans, one of these things is how people respond to compliments. Some people, myself included feel obligated happy to reciprocate with a compliment where plausible. Some people do not feel that is necessary, but say "thank you."  Then some are narcissistic douche lords who should learn a few things about interacting with others.

One of the phrases that I overuse like crazy is "I like your face."* I like this phrase. I love that some of my friends have absconded away with it and use it also. You can mean it as is, but it is also a great compliment come-back when you have a loss for ideas, and feel like you can't quite muster the right tone to make an observation seem like a compliment, even though you don't necessarily mean it that way, i.e. "You have a fork in your hair!" Recently I said this to a girl at church.** She said, "aww, thanks. I like your [insert super long pause here] hair." I harbor no ill-will toward this girl, and I'm 80% sure she didn't mean anything by it. I bring this up simply to point out that it seems less like a compliment the longer it takes for you to concoct it. In this instance, probably just an "aww thanks" would have gone a lot further than a compliment come-back.

*Which I have overused for years - way before Bridgit Mendler was ever autotuned.

**"I like your face," not "you have a fork in your hair," although I have absolutely said that before because homegirl*** did have a fork in her hair.

***Fork girl was always super nice, and always showered me in compliments, making me feel awkward that her aesthetic wasn't really something I necessarily appreciated, so "that color looks great on you" (which it did, I wouldn't lie.) was growing a little tired, so I found that if I used the right tone, observations could come off as complimentary. But that can be exhausting, and potentially reinforce things that probably shouldn't be reinforced.   Like a fork.    In someone's hair. 

Found in the recycling bin

Today saw a special schedule, bowling in the morning,  what are usually fourth and fifth periods were spent watching that Steve Zahn wimpy kid sequel, then after sixth was a dance party. During this free time, I found a piece of paper in the recycling bin with some interesting art work on it.

When I questioned other staff members, i.e. showed them this hilarious, hilarious depiction of what appears to me to be a nude woman whose arms were surgically replaced with some sort of automatic weapon on one side and a handle on the other, a very pronounced clavicle and no legs, all of them denied creating it. Can you believe no one would fess up to creating this? Surely it wouldn't be a sweet little middle schooler! When we were trying to decide who had done this, a teacher named Matt said, "well I know it wasn't me- I use more shading" at which point I laughed hysterically. We then tried to figure out what student did it - was the artist the same person who spelled out the eff word on the magnet board in the classroom? No conclusions were drawn.

Public Access

Fact: my Algebra 2/Trig teacher Mr. Ford either never learned my first name or chose to ignore it and call me either Blake's little sister or by my last name. I was never particularly bothered by it as I was never one of his favorite students and he was never one of my favorite teachers. He was SUPER nice in every other way, i.e. very generous in my grade, we just weren't meant to be besties. I thought of Mr. Ford today and remembered a mortifying incident from his class and thought you might like to take a trip down memory lane with me.

When the OJ Simpson trial was happening, a group of kids in my class (including at least Kari, Ricky, Adam - who kept a large stuffed moose in his desk - and I) and I decided to parody the trial for a science project. One aspect of the assignment was that we had to do something publicly, so instead of just stealing a camcorder from someone's parent and making a video, we headed on down to the public access station. To say that it was a clever idea would be a complete falsehood. To say that we were well rehearsed and TV ready would be another complete falsehood. This little skit was the worst thing ever. We ever-so-cleverly came up with the concept that "Citrus Juice 'CJ' Sampson" was on trial for some crime against the environment and Marcia Bark and Judge Plants Ito...well to be completely honest I can't really remember what the story was, but it was terrible.

Five or six years later was when I had Mr. Ford. One day after attendance and before the lesson, with the whole class ready to spend second period getting our math on, Mr. Ford turned to Kari and I, who had been in many of the same classes since our public access days, and asked if we had younger siblings. Both being the youngest in our families we were kind of surprised and said we didn't. He then told us of how he saw some kids on public access that looked a lot like us. After we admitted to it being us and remarking that it was amazing that they were still playing that terrible piece of history five years later, Mr. Ford was about to tell the whole class about the plot, I had to deflect the negative attention. "What were you doing watching public access?" At which point the class shifted the path of their collective judgment ray to Mr. Ford, which was absolutely my plan. He then said he was channel surfing and saw kids that looked like us, and then he started in with the lesson. After class he told me that he knew it was the two of us because our names were on the credits and he just wanted to embarrass us. And then I mocked him for sitting through the whole thing, something I'm pretty sure I never even accomplished.

Sometimes I wonder how many times that pathetic little video has been played. Hoping to avoid the inevitable anxiety spiral that would stem from that kind of thinking I lie to myself and think no one except Mr. Ford could ever make it to the end of that trash.

Have You Heard: Solange Knowles

I have to say, a few years ago I did not think too highly of the younger Ms. Knowles. But a few months ago she started showing up to events with her big, fabulous hair and bold fashion choices, and I started to change my tune. Then I saw her video for Losing You, and I am totally girl crushing.




I love this song.

Sometimes I don't blog.

Other times I do. I really appreciate my sweet friends who request more posts from me. I will try to oblige. Although I'm pretty sure the snarky posts are what these people are wanting, and sometimes I just don't have it in me.

That being said, I have to tell you that I saw the vanity plate BIG PPA today, and it made me laugh and I wanted to take a picture and send it to so many different people, but it wouldn't have been even close to safe to do so while driving, so I lack evidence. But let me tell you, that the man driving this vehicle did not look like someone who would have a vanity plate to begin with, let alone one that said BIG PPA, so maybe that was a reminder for me to not judge solely based on appearances, albeit a very short-lived reminder. I wonder if he got it for himself because he likes it when someone else calls him big poppa so much that he wanted to show it off to the world via his license plate. People = fascinating.

NKOTB: So Young and Yet So Wise part 3

#142: Jonathan tries to be understanding when there's an argument - he always makes an effort to see all sides of the situation

#147: Donnie says, "I just want everyone to get along in peace. Afterall, peace is my motto. I'm always wearing things with peace signs on them."

Busted: a Confession

A few days ago, I was at the library when I got stopped by someone with a clipboard. My usual response to whatever the plea is, "I'm not registered to vote," thus making my signature on whatever petition they have null and undesirable. This generally works like a charm. This time, when I got stopped, I very politely said, "oh, I'm not registered to vote," before this nice man had an opportunity to tell me what he was doing. As soon as I said those words I saw on his clipboard the Voter's Registration Card. Wah wah. He said, "great, we can get you registered right now!" At which point I had no choice but to confess that I lied. When I told him that was my usual deflection and that I am in fact registered, and have been since a few weeks before my 18th birthday, since an election was a week after, he didn't look super amused.

Yes, I lie to strangers.

Have You Heard: Lake Street Dive

I realized I missed my favorite radio show, Wait Wait Don't Tell Me on Saturday and turned on the radio to see if I could catch the replay of it on Sunday as I was getting ready for church. I got the times wrong, and turned on the radio as Prairie Home Companion was going full steam. While I feel that show has some real strengths going for it, mostly those get outweighed by how annoying I find several of their weekly bits to be, so had this group not been killing a cover of one of my all-time favorite songs I would have turned it off. As luck would have it, I have a new obsession, in the way of lake Street Dive. Thanks Garrison Keillor. Yes, the Jackson 5 classic is one of my all-time favorite songs. And no, I don't feel any shame in admitting that.

NKOTB: So Young and Yet So Wise part 2

I can say with a surety that as much as Joey and Jordan were everyone's favorites, Donny was easily the least favorite which is sad. Not that he should have been a favorite by any means, but it is sad because he probably knew he was the least favorite NKOTB. He also probably knew he was the least favorite Wahlberg. That's got to be deflating. Let's see if we can learn a little bit more about the New Kid's resident bad boy who sprayed a kid in the face with a fire extinguisher and scuffled with people airplanes

#7: Original New Kid Donnie tells his fans: "Try not to judge things 'til you've been educated on them." #154: "I think my greatest fear is that the AIDS crisis is growing bigger and bigger and by the next decade it will be wickedly out of hand," says socially concerned Donnie. #88: New Kids on the Block, especially Donnie and Joe, think Peace signs are great to wear...but more than anything, they love what they stand for! Oh the poor schmucks who had to write the copy for these cards--where are they now?

NKOTB: So Young and Yet So Wise part 1

A few months ago, my dear friend Ashley--who has a sense of humor better than most--sent me a package with all sorts of goodies in it, each one with a note attached as a caption. To the rather huge stack of New Kids on the Block trading cards she included, she wrote, "Ahh...NKOTB, so young and yet so wise."

 We were of a very impressionable age when New Kids came out. I knew I was supposed to like them, but I was neither here nor there with them, but wanted to appear like a normal kid, so I flaunted my NKOTB walkman all over that yellow school bus for a few months second grade. But, did I ever use the bookcovers that I got with said walkman for my birthday? Nope. (My brother ended up stealing them from me to use as gift wrap when I was in college.) Alas sooner rather than later, the sticker of the New Kids was peeled off and I continued to use that walkman to listen to Paula Abdul and Richard Marx (those were my jams!)

I digress. Ashley's present made me giggle, but I had no idea what to do with these precious gems. I was thinking about them this morning, so I got them out, took some photos, and will for the next few weeks share the best of the best.

Poor John, the only kid in the crew not part of the rat-tail chain. I bet he looks back in relief that even though he allowed himself and the band to be styled by the same person that styled Sinbad,* he didn't have a rat-tail, but it probably smarted at the time, being alone in the crowd like that. And Jordan looks so hot in his overalls, actually mostly it's his face. His face and that pose. What's he going to do next? Lean against a brick wall with one leg propped up like a flamingo's?

The reverse of those two cards (where the pearls of wisdom are, along with the factoids about the band):
#82: Donnie says, "There are lots of good reasons to stay in school. We're glad we did because that's how we met...and look at us now!"
#55: Jordan is quite the comedian! He cracks up the Kids on the tour bus with his impression of Elvis Presley!**


*I made that up.  "I hope he's wearing something made out of windbreaker!" -Charlie Kelly

**You know what's more obnoxious than being stuck on a tour bus with a guy who thinks impressions are funny? The only thing that comes to mind, being stuck on a tour bus with a guy who thinks his impression singular is funny. (Remember when Kareem Abdul Jabbar drove their tour bus? Yeah...me neither.)

Have You Heard: Pop inspired by POTO

What is POTO you ask? Clearly I am talking about Andrew Lloyd Webber's classic 1980s musical version of Gaston Leroux' novel Phantom of the Opera. And I should just state right now that "inspired by" is far too strong a phrase. 

A few months ago Annie sent me an email telling me to immediately listen to "Primadonna" by Marina and the Diamonds. I did. I loved it (it's so dancey!). As a bonus, I then became O.B.S.E.S.S.E.D. with another song off her new album, "How to be a Heartbreaker." Thank you, Annie.



The connection to POTO came when my friend Tiffany told me her boyfriend David busted out into Primadonna and my mind immediately went to Marina & the Diamonds, but I was mistaken. 

Then I heard and fell in love with Nicki Minaj's song "Masquerade." Sure she doesn't use proper grammar, uh, ever, but it's kinda my favorite. 


(oh fan vids.)

Two songs with the same titles as tracks from Phantom of the Opera in one summer? Here's hoping David Guetta will come out with a song called "Think of Me" and Katy Perry one called "Point of No Return" and here's hoping it is better than this one.
 

Video games and the middle aged

I was at a meeting last night to plan an upcoming harvest activity for the young single adults in the Portland region, when one of the middleaged people who was subbing for some stake high council member who couldn't make it suggested made the following suggestion: "There's a Kinect already set up, and there are lots of flat screens, someone else could bring an xbox or a wii and we could have games going." I thanked him politely, but said, "I'd rather not have any video games happening at this event." He countered, "well do you know what Kinect is? It isn't a video game." Woah there Captain Hostile! It is in fact a video game, just because your body is the controller doesn't make it not a video game.

As tactfully as I could muster I said, "Yes, I do know what Kinect is and does, it's great fun, but we will not be offering a video game as an option at this activity." He scowled at me. He was hurt and offended. He had offered me the greatest bounty of super-fun-idea treasure possible and in my ignorance I had shot him down. Me in my hatred of video games.* I'm sorry that I'm trying to foster interaction and trying to introduce other fun things to this legion of young single men who play far too many video games as it is. I'm just a wet blanket.

*Nevermind the fact that I don't video games. I had sounded out the Mario Bros. theme song on the piano as a kid before I grasped the concept of telling time on a non-digital clock. Once when I was sick, my mom brought home Roadblaster, my favorite arcade game, for me. And I have spent more time playing Dr. Mario, Tetris and that 3d pinball game for the PC than I would care to admit to. Oh, and I used to play kinect sports or just dance with the kids I nannied to get them off their duffs on rainy days.

A few things that have been on my mind:

1. I really wish I was one of those people who can articulate what they are thinking right when they think it, especially when it comes to funny things. A couple of weeks ago I was sitting next to a few guys in my ward, and one of them slapped a sticker that said "usher" onto another one's chest. Seeing an opportunity to be HI-larious, I said to the newly dubbed, usher, "I loved your hit song..." and then had to pause as I tried to think of an Usher song. Seriously? I couldn't think of "OMG" "Yeah" "U Got it Bad" or that one, something like "Confession part II," or you know any of the other Usher songs that I know all of the words to.  Now I can, then I couldn't. So I had to then admit that I couldn't think of one. The kid I was sitting next to came up with like three.  Today I struggled to come up with Dick Cheney's name. Come on, brain! Molly fail.

2. Friends Natalie and Michael gave me a subscription to the New Yorker. I let all of my magazine subscriptions lapse, and totally, totally miss a few of them, but not the New Yorker anymore because of my sweet friends. Back when I first came to the New Yorker in 2004 I fell in deep literary smit with Paul Simms because a few of his submissions in the Shouts and Murmurs (obviously my favorite section). This week's "Test your Fashion IQ" made me LOL out loud a few times. Find it. Read it. (Bob Odenkirk's* "Portrait of the Artist" from a few weeks ago was pretty good as well.)

2.1. Flipping through the October Glamour I saw an article titled "Is Joseph Gordon-Levitt the new Ryan Gosling?" No. He's not.

3. I am apparently trying to single handedly trying to cover all of my friend Joanna's walls. A while ago I made her a dachshund chalkboard, because the girl loves her dachshunds.

 And for her recent wedding to delightful Chris, I made them a print that really fits them:

*Better call Saul!**
**We don't need a criminal lawyer, we need a criminal lawyer. Do you see the difference?

You know how that is....

I've been trying to get a hold of a few people I've never met before from the coast to see if we can use a certain place for a beach party after a beach cleanup later this month. Finally today I got a voicemail from one of these individuals. In it, he said, "I'm sorry I haven't gotten back to you sooner, but I'm a dairy farmer and you know how that is." Actually sir, I have no idea what that is like, but thank you for calling me back. Also, since you are a dairy farmer near Tillamook, I'm sure you contribute to that, so thank you for delicious cheeses and ice creams.

don't forget the computer

While cleaning the garage I found this list on a little piece of paper.

Fact: I have NO IDEA how it came to be in the garage, but before chucking it in to the recycling bin, my brain tried to make sense of the items on the list. This person has their ladder and a pillow, and has to remember to get the computer.

What does one use a ladder, pillow and computer for? Comfort and entertainment/productivity during a little peeping tomming* is the only scenario I can think of. (Telling that my mind went directly to stalking and could not pass go or collect $200, no?)

This then reminded me of that time when Vranes and I were in NYC and we saw a list, I think in the fffound.com book, but I could be mistaken, a found list combining errands and shopping list items. The one item we giggle incessantly about was "POLISH BOYS" written in all caps. We could not tell if it was a verb or a noun. Are we talking about some young men from Poland, or are we talking about polishing as in a shoe or silver? Either way, kind of a random list item.

*Peeping Tom is still the creepiest movie I have ever seen.

Too Much of a Good Thing

It happened with The Kardashians. It happens with foods, especially unhealthy ones like ice cream and pasta and chips. Apparently, it can happen with shutters.

Trying to find an estate sale this weekend, we happened upon a house, that is over-shuttered, something this shutter-lover didn't think was possible.  In what was presumably an attempt to add some curb appeal, these home owners went a little cray cray.

That's right - these people put shutters on the garage.  But that's not all. The area to the left of the door wasn't wide enough for a symmetrical design, but that wasn't a problem for these folks.  They put it on the door! (They just cut the shutters with the sections of the garage door. Why didn't I think of that?)

Friends, let me tell you that there are a LOT of ways to add curb appeal, and make your garage door look cool. Throwing shutters on it is not one of them.

Just trying to help.

We don't have to be professionals to do the things we love.

My dear friend Ashley sent me a text a couple of days ago with another found book.

Good news, friends! It's available on Amazon,  along with two other books of the same name by different authors. It's time to get our hobby on! So what if we smell of formaldehyde and get weird looks from...everyone.

Paulie strikes back

First things first, I don't go to Starbucks that frequently.  And, when I do, I say my name and then if they hear me correctly, great and if not oh well. I'll take my drink and be on my way.

A few days ago, while at Starbucks, looking for some caffeine, I placed my order and then they wrote something down. "Paulie?" "sure." The barista then asked me to say my name again and I said "Molly."

AGAIN??? How many girls are named Paulie? And how many spell it that way? I had no idea that this was a common enough spelling/name to happen not once but twice at Starbucks.  

Thanks Jersey Shore, I'm pretty sure you had something to do with this.

Boogie Knights

Remember when I went to LA for a week to help Natalie with her house? We were so busy with projects and having fun that somehow I forgot to blog. But now that I am back home, I have to tell you about a friend I made on one of our many trips to the home depot.

As most of you know, I like disco far more than anyone should. (Especially anyone who wasn't alive and on mescaline or amyl during its heyday.) It is just so infectious and dancey, how can I resist but singing along? I didn't resist walking down the moulding aisle looking for a very specific piece we needed like 6" of (measuring before buying stuff is an important thing- just so you know.) As I searched (in vain) for this moulding, I sang along to Boogie Oogie Oogie*, the classic by Taste of Honey, apparently not as too-myself as I thought I was. A friendly man with one of those huge orange lumber carts totally full announced, "You don't know anything about that!" I was taken aback. Here I was, knowing all of the lyrics - clearly I felt I did in fact know something about that. He started laughing, "You're way too young! That was the year I graduated high school. " He then went on, "I was a group called the 'Boogie Nights' we played at [specific LA club] and [specific LA club] and the old [yet another specific LA club] at [insert intersection here]." As he rattled off these club names, I recognized one, but he clearly expected me to know all three of them, so I pretended I did. He even did a little dance like in the good old days. And he had some moves. I said, "Boogie Knights - like k-n-i-g-h-t's? That's an awesome name!" (Seriously though, such a good name.) He responded, "no, nights--like jousting." Here's where I should tell you that I feel like there are specific guidelines for interaction between young melanin-deficient blondes and older men (and women) of color. For example, even though he can tell you that you know nothing about disco despite the fact that one of your all-time favorite songs is "Native New Yorker," and you have an oft played playlist of about 150 songs called "disco inferno," you can't tell him that he's spelling knights incorrectly, especially when it is 35 years past the time when an editor would have come in handy. So I tabled my know-it-all-ness. (I should do this more often.)

I listened and was thoroughly entertained by him, when Natalie and her little boy found us. I asked him, (because his cart over-floweth with wood) if he was familiar with this section of the store and if he knew if there was any more moulding on another aisle. Natalie, kindly pointed out that he didn't work at the store. I said, "I know, but we're brand new BFFs." He laughed and said that I was his BFF and he was my BFM. We were a little confused until he explained, Best Friend Female and Best Friend Male.** He did help us try to find it, and pointed out an actual home depot employee who was less than helpful. In the end, we all said our goodbyes; we went to a Lowe's and then another Home Depot and finally found the moulding we needed, and my new BFM presumably went his way and made something awesome with all of that wood.

* How have I not learned yet? In April 2007 I broke out rapping to Common and Kanye's "The Food" in the middle of the PN section of the HBLL right before finals week. Let's just say, people were not entertained, "I got two kids, but my baby mama late, uh oh uh oh uh oh, so I had to did, what I had to did..." Good times. 



** Again, I probably could have told him that the kids say BFF and mean "best friends forever" but I let it slide because there are rules about these things.

Compliments and the Unidimensional

In today's reality tv society where people are diminished to being one-dimensional caricatures of actual people, I find I am resentful when people think I am mono-dimensional. I know what you're thinking, 'old quick-to-judgment Molly is being more than a bit hypocritical.' But I have to say I really don't think people are only one thing or one way, (except for very few exceptions), I'm just not interested in seeing certain people's multi-faceted-ness. (In some cases, I'll make up elaborate back stories of people for my own amusement. Or I decide what a stranger's life must have been like and then chat them up to try to get as many details as possible to see how accurate I was. Both of these activities I have done since film school - it's a great activity, you should try it.) There is a bush and I am beating around it.

At church recently I was informed that I hated sports. I told the super-cute girl who suggested this that I was glad to have an attribute assigned to me like that and to have been informed of it. When she presented her evidence as being that I don't ever hang out or join in when people are playing sports at church*, I countered with, "I like music but that doesn't mean I'm going to listen to a middle school band perform just to hear some." 

The other day, I got to spend some time with my three year old brother Isaac. During part of the time, he was playing with the four year old neighbor girl. Her mom came over after a few minutes, and we had a nice chat. The next day, I went again to my dad's house, this time to steal some tools and drop off the myriad of clamps I absconded away with, when my dad's neighbor's husband stopped me, "You know, [my wife] told me that you were really great with kids." This statement, meant as a compliment, was stripped of all of its good-intention before it even finished leaving this man's mouth because he said it with a tone of such complete awe and surprise - it was a concept he had never even begun to consider. To him, I am just Drew's sarcastic and liberal** daughter who only comes over to use power tools.

To these people, I would like to say: 1. I don't like sports as much as you do, as I would never play at church knowing that my nose could be broken, like yours was last week. And 2. compliments sound less like compliments the more surprised you sound, but no hard feelings, because I see you as my dad's talkative, uber-conservative neighbor who called me old. My, that kettle sure is black, isn't it!


*In actuality, I don't "hang out" or "join in" at church like....ever. It's not exclusive to sports.***
**Everyone is liberal compared to him. 
***I actually feel like Mormons should not be allowed to play team sports like basketball because there are such high levels of competition that injuries and animosity always occur.

Captured on ET: Library Books

For the last week of school I helped the librarian close down the library. I was given the task to re-label as many books as I could. I got through all of the hardback fiction and all of the animal, cooking, craft and art nonfiction books. I found some really winners.

1. "Llamas-Wooly, Winsome & Wonderful"-- The back cover was so hilarious, I actually started looking through the book. 

 The dedication page is also pretty hilarious.

2. This library had not one but two copies of "How to Raise and Train Pigeons" - a skill my friend Ashley and I have often found ourselves wishing we had.

3. This book is called, "How to be your cat's best friend." Just saying -- her cat doesn't look that in to it.

4. "Norby The Mixed-Up Robot" Isaac Asimov? Really? I know you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but I definitely, definitely am. And I'm deducing that Norby is in love with the transgendered unitard wearer and is rescuing him/her from the clutches of the evil (though if I understood Shrek correctly, misunderstood) dragon.

5. "It's like this, cat" - I realize that a lot of these are about cats, but cats are funnier than dogs.

6. "Star Ka'at" - This happened.

7. "my darling, my hamburger" weird.

The moment I saw this, I thought of the immortal veggietales song about a cheeseburger.

#9 Plant a Tree

One of the things I had left on my list of things to do before 30 was plant a tree. How is it that a girl from Oregon has never planted a tree? Well, I am what you call an "indoor girl." 

In the grand project of "Operation House Proud" I haven't spent any time outside trying to improve curb appeal. And when I saw two little trees sprouting up on the left side of the driveway, I thought, "I should dig those up and replant them before they get roots and break up the driveway." And of course I didn't for like two years. Over the past couple of weeks I have been spending a lot more time than usual outside working on the front, back and side yards. And though there are a million things I'd rather be doing than yard work, it is getting done, slowly but surely. Part of that getting done, is that I dug up the two little trees, now about three feet high.

I started thinking about how not only is that not planting a tree, it is taking two away. I'm creating a tree deficit, and I could just not do that. So, where to plant them? The wetlands next to my house had ground that was impossible to dig into, so we ventured into the woods in my neighborhood. We planted those little guys where hopefully they can grow and hang out with their new tree acquaintances and woodland friends.

Today on a jog, I cruised by and took pictures of these two little guys, who seem to be doing okay,  a couple weeks later, which is good news. 

My appologies to Geneva.

So, tonight at trivia, the team sitting next to us was a young couple and their team name was "first date." After the final round, before the scores were announced the female component of this couple started chatting with us, asking if we came every week, etc. I then encouraged them to come back next week. "Your name could be 'second date.'" As the girl's face went from joviality to terror, I quickly added "Or not. No pressure." Unfortunately, the whole bar heard this interaction and giggled.

They left shortly after that, but the girl stopped back in and asked if she could come be part of our team sometime, Annie took her card and we went on to the tie-break round (and then won, but not because Eggs - our good-spirited rivals - didn't give us a run for our money.)

I just felt really badly about making an awkward first date even more awkward. But, on the other hand, I feel like I personally would not have named our two-person trivia team "first date" if it was in fact our first date.* How about, "trivia newbies" "the new friends gang" the classic "Team Cobra." Or A.N.Y.T.H.I.N.G. but what it really was. But still, I need to say I'm sorry to this non-couple, whether she's our new friend or not.


*Although that's a pretty make-or-break first date. You have to work together and potentially compromise on one answer. What if one of you is an idiot, but very confident and you feel like you don't want to be mean. Or what if the other person doesn't give the team who you are grading points for the correct answer of what the trees are called in Lord of the Rings because, the falsely think it is Enths, instead of what they really are Ents. I'm just saying, deal breakers abound.

 On a side note, ANYONE IN PORTLAND WANT TO COME TO A WES ANDERSON TRIVIA NIGHT WITH ME ON THE 16TH? My team members are either out of town or don't particularly care for him. All I need is someone to sit with me. Trivia, like drinking, is not healthy when done alone.

Mormon Standard Time

On Wednesday night I got a couple of emails from the same person who asked me to pray all of those times, reminding me of a meeting I was supposed to attend tonight. The first was, "sorry for the late notice, but here's a reminder about the meeting tomorrow at 8." (Which I thought was strange since we had settled on 7 at the last meeting.) The second was, "actually, let's stick with 7. See you tomorrow." Cool.

Right now, I am standing in the church parking lot at 7:06. Why am I standing in the parking lot, and not, you know in our meeting? Well, the doors are locked, the lights are off, and no one is answering their phones.

I am someone who is incessantly late to church. Something about our 2:00pm start time leaves me completely incapable of getting to church on time. But this meeting, scheduled for 7:00 on a Thursday night? I was three minutes early to. Unfortunately, no one was here to see it.

I just got off the phone with prayer girl, and she and her friend whose name is a homophone for Hitler's ideal race (who seems like a delightful enough person, but I find it hard to shelve my conjectures of her parents being either white supremacists or completely ignorant) are on their way from the airport. ETA 10 minutes. Hopefully someone with a key will show up. Shoot, hopefully anyone on our committee will show up.

At least it is a gorgeous and sunny evening.

--UPDATE--

So, we finally got said meeting going, (at 7:30!) and there was a new guy from Vancouver there and when we were talking about the Sunday meeting, and I raised concerns over a repeat of last year's craziness*, he made some comments about how he thought girls should shower more. And I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not. I was so hoping that prayer girl would do a repeat of her sitcom-infused "awkward," but alas... no dice. We all just looked at him confused and went on to another topic of conversation. 

*Specifically the crazy middle-aged woman who got up to speak in Relief Society before our lesson. But, Analee, don't think this gives you permission to go up to awkward engaged guys with great hair and tell them I want to touch it.

So, what do you think?

Some of my more vocal friends have decided that I am blogging too infrequently, which is quite flattering and I'll try to get on the ball, I promise, but those same friends have requested that I post before and afters of the crafty/DIY-ey things that I do around my house, because apparently I don't share, like, any of those on here. Pretty sure the last one I did was my dresser about a million years ago. (Remember how I'm TERRIBLE at importing photos?) Anyway, my question is, I know how the vocal minority feel, but is this a welcome forum for such things, or should this remain mostly snarky and judgmental anecdotes of my daily haps? (I promise, the judgment won't go away, I'm no fool.)

To everyone who delegates,

If you are particular about how a certain task should be completed, please let the person to whom you've delegated the task know what your preferences are, lest they have to do the task over again a few times because you can't communicate.

From,
Everyone who has ever been delegated upon

P.S. On a completely unrelated note - just because you claim to like efficiency does not mean that you are in fact efficient.

(Not that I'm speaking from personal experience or anything.)

Please stop doing things that make me seem like a bitch when I respond to you.

I traveled about 350 blocks two weeks ago to attend a regional YSA meeting. At said (superbly boring) meeting, I was asked to give the opening prayer. Then, it was already on the typed beforehand agenda of the meeting that I was to give the closing prayer, so I gave that prayer as well. No big deal. I love to pray.

Tonight we had another meeting with the same group of people. I was again asked to give the opening prayer. Now, I know I have the wrong attitude about a lot of things, and this is probably one of them, 'pray always' and all of that, but I said "no." Then the girl* who asked me to pray said, "awkward" like it was a precisely timed punchline of a TGIF sitcom from 1992. I then said, "I opened and closed our last meeting, someone else can pray." If there were fewer than five people in our meetings, I would gladly pray as often as asked, but there were twelve people there tonight. Twelve and a few more last time. Other people could and did pray.

*We are so not destined to be besties it's ridiculous. 

At least Anchorage has the excuse of being bitterly cold, like, all the time.

I just saw that SLC was voted the second worst dressed city in America, and with the fewexception of some of my more fashionable friends who live in the Beehive state, it is so true I can't even handle it. (Although I would push for first place.) The people at Travel and Leisure equate this to an over-peppering of polo shirts, but I'd have to submit the true crimes against fashion are sleeved shirts under tanktop dresses, platform flip flops, and a constant borage of tshirts and ill-fitting jeans on men and women, like it's a required uniform. (It actually might be. You can never be too sure when it comes to Utah.)

They also say that it is a clean city, to which I say, what city are you talking about? Sure, you'd be hard-pressed to find someone peeing on a sidewalk and there are very few cigarette butts floating around, but between the gross industry, the mine you can see from space, and the fact that no one reuses or recycles anything, oh, and all that gross-ness up and down I-15 --clean is not a word I'd ever use to describe Salt Lake, but neither is fashionable, so overall I agree.

Textual Pet Peeves brought to you by the ever-rational Annie and Molly.

Last night as Annie was regaling Becky and I with a first date story from the weekend,  she read us the text this guy sent to her exactly 72 hours later. In this word alert (!) was the word "ya." Annie expressed her disdain for grown men using the word "ya" in written form, and then she and Becky discussed how it was very important to them to send and receive texts that were properly spelled and punctuated. I told them that I didn't really care. And that is totally true. I don't care. It would be hypocritical of me to care. I have so many typograpical Eros* in my texts, I'm lucky if I send one that hasn't been auto-corrected away from my original thought entirely. Annie cares about proper spelling, grammar and punctuation in a way that I can't really relate to. She was surprised at my lackadaisical approach to texts, I think her exact phrase was, "you seem like the kind of person who would care about that."

Later on in the evening, as Annie and Mr. First Date continued their textual convo, he sent her another text, she read allowed the message and punctuation, when the phrase "double exclamation points" came out of Annie's mouth, I groaned. "Ugh, double exclamation points? That's the worst! Along with emoticons. Guys should never zealously punctuate." To which Annie replied, "Really?!? I like that." And Becky just laughed. Apparently I can relate.

We all agreed that we didn't like texting (word alerting?) as a mode of conversation, but also that a text was better than nothing.

*See what I did there?

Captured on ET

It is shameful, but 100% true that while I sync my phone a few times a week, and update music on him very often, I never, and I mean NEVER import photos from my phone.* If I want to do something with a photo on my phone immediately, I email it to a friend, to myself, whatever. So, I decided that I would import the photos from ET that I haven't yet--all 273 of them.

Here are a few of them from many, many moons ago:

Right before Thanksgiving** I took a couple of my mom's cousins to Tuesday Morning for them to get some holiday themed napkins and a novelty area rug. I found this awesome candlestick with painted shell attached. A perfect (although pointless and unattractive) accent for any room!

And then this section called "Great Gifts for Kids." You know what's not a great gift for a kid? A nutcracker.

Then this picture of a post-it. I often wake up in the middle and jot things down. Like when I was gearing up for a Mad Men trivia night, I was making a list one day of all of the women Don had slept with. I woke up in the middle of the night remembering the one I missed, and wrote "the whore who slapped Don," so I wrote it on the post-it pad next to my bed. Why did I write Time Life Bldg down in the middle of the night? I'm not sure, but I wanted to take a picture of it in case it comes up again.

*I never import photos from my real camera either. It's a problem. I'm working on it.
**It has been longer than that. I suck at life. What can I say?

Just call me Nelly Dean & Lockwood

So yesterday was the first time in a long while where I was actually able to have a conversation with my dear friend Shara. For the past few weeks we've been leaving each other voice mails, sending word alerts,* a few emails, even a few smoke signals. We talked for an hour and I asked about her boyfriend, and she said, "we broke up. I told you that." "You did? I don't remember that." "Yes, right before my birthday." "When have we talked since your birthday?" "I don't know, but I could have sworn I told you." The exchange went back and forth like this, and then she told me their break up story. 

Later last night, I was talking to our mutual friend Becky and I said, "did you know that Shara and Josh broke up?" And Bex said, "yes, you told me and then I talked to Shara." "I TOLD YOU?!?!" At this point, I was remembering the Voodoo Doughnuts trip that wasn't and wondering if I really did have that experience just like I totally spaced this life event of my friend breaking up with a guy she's been going out with for close to a year. How self-centered am I?**

Perhaps I have Multiple Personality Disorder? Except that both of my personalities are named Molly, and very, very similar. I doubt that's a thing. I'll check the DSM-IV and get back to you.

Whether or not I was in fact at Voodoo (I wasn't.) or whether Shara told me and then I told Becky (this probably happened.) I felt like I should tell you that I am a less reliable narrator than both Nelly Dean and Lockwood from that book that everyone else seems to love except for me, Wuthering Heights. Lest you had any faith in me, know that it is unfounded.

*While I don't really like Girls, or any of the characters on it, I am intrigued by it, at least up to episode 4. But I am totally stealing the phrase "word alert" for a text.***
**Don't answer that. 
***"Girls is awkward, uncomfortable and unapologetic in all the ways being in your early twenties can often be." - Max Greenfield in Goop, and I totally agree.

The Portland Experience episode 2

In a recent bout of purging of unnecessary items cluttering up my life, I posted some things on Craigslist. One of these things was my old longboard.

I got an email from a guy who wanted to drive up from Eugene to buy it. Cool. "Meet me at the Starbucks on Beaverton-Hillsdale- right off of 217." On my way there last night, I was on the phone with a friend when I noticed that there was a second Starbucks there that I had forgotten about. Together we decided that the one I was talking about was the more logical of the two to meet at, so I wasn't that concerned.

I had been there about 12 minutes, waiting in the chilly wind (which given the gorgeous weather we've been having for the last two weeks I was ill-prepared for) when I sent him another email.  After another 6 minutes I checked my email again. Three emails from him - getting progressively angrier in tone. I sent him another email, this time with my phone number. He called me and we figured out that we were each at the different Starbucks.



Considering this is my neck of the woods I probably should have known that there were two within a block. I'm going to take a my bad on this one.

While I was waiting for him though, I saw a suburban hipster on a bike leaving the Fred Meyer that was there with a huge backpack and probably about six grocery bags in tow. He was balanced and about to really get going, when a gust of wind met him and blew off his trucker hat. (Seriously, a trucker hat? What is this 2006?) He stopped his bike in the middle of the heavily populated parking lot intersection and flew backwards trying to capture his hat. The next like 45 seconds were sheer slapstick bliss. Once the hat was captured, a grocery bag would fall, then once that was taken care of, his backpack would slide around. It was a very precarious situation for this young man. And he was getting increasingly frustrated by the whole thing, fumbling, dropping, swearing, in a continuous cycle until finally homeboy was off. Maybe Fred Meyer should only be one-stop shopping when you have a trunk with you at the store.

Lessons learned: 1. Find out just how many Starbucks are within the block radius of where I'm planning on meeting someone before I suggest it as a meeting place. And 2. If you're going to ride your bike to the grocery store, maybe buy less than six grocery bags worth of stuff at a time, or bring reusable bags that can hold more and you can secure to your bike.

Remember that time...

So, remember when I would overuse the phrase, "Remember when..." and describe the situation I was in presently? Sometimes people get confused and say things, like, "no. I don't remember that." And I realize that my attempt at humor or sarcasm has been lost.

I received a card a couple of days ago from a bunch of people in my Relief Society. In it was a very specific message saying, "Remember that time with Ana Lee at Voodoo Doughnuts? Ha!"

I read this and had NO IDEA what she was talking about. Not even a glimmer of recognition. Now, this message came from a girl who actively dislikes me and makes no secret of it. I was trying to think of any time she and I were anywhere at the same time that was not our church building. I couldn't do it. My mind was a complete _______.  So now it was my turn to be confused by someone saying, "remember when..." oh Karma, what am I going to do with you?

I have often bemoaned the fact that my brain isn't quite as sharp as it was a few years ago. Ahhh the days when I could memorize all of the countries of Africa in 6th period and then miss only one on the test 7th period (I totally wrote down Uganda twice and forgot to fix the wrong one.) Or the days at BYU when everyone in my student development class hated me because I would always win our classwide memory games. I digress. The point is, I'm not as awesome with memory stuff as I used to be, but the fact that nothing about this was ringing a bell was disturbing me.

So, I immediately took a picture of said message and emailed it to Analee to ask her to remind me about this alleged trip. I have been to Voodoo fewer than 10 times in the 9 years its been open, and if I had gone with this girl, I would totally remember. Right? Right?

Analee calls me later on in the day to say, 'I can't believe you don't remember that trip to Voodoo. It was right after a YSA activity in Vancouver..." This was when I interrupted dear Analee. "Wait. I have never been to a YSA activity in Vancouver. I would never drive that far* to go to a church function."** "I think it was you. We were driving back and [insert super long, but kind of funny story about how this awkward girl who hates me said the doughnut she got was like an orgasm in her mouth here]." "Analee, I would totally have remembered ever being in a car with her. I would remember her saying, 'orgasm'. That was not me."

Analee thought about it for a minute, "oh, I think it was Melanie."

So Melanie, girl I met a couple of times a million years ago, know that there are a few people around these parts who are reminiscing about the fun times you all had together. But unfortunately, they are remembering me there instead of you. 

*Vancouver, WA is not too far to drive to for concerts, shopping, illegal in Oregon fireworks, etc. But a Young Single Adults activity...it might as well be on the moon. 
**Irony of ironies, my new calling I told you about, is Regional Young Single Adults activities co-chair. So now, I have to not only go to activities, I have to plan them, and drive to them, even if they are in Vancouver... should. have. said. no. haha. [sad face.]

A hipster by any other name.

A recent trip to the Apple store made me take note of several of the employees' name tags, and I had to wonder: Do hipisters, like hippies, name themselves--or, do these people simply become hipsters because of what their parents named them?

Case in point:
-Florin
-JoJo
-Braun
-Liam
-Augustine

What comes first, the chicken or the hipster flavored egg?

Have You Heard: Alexander

Because it is Spring, and one of these days it will behave as such.

Call and Response

One of my most favorite things about my church is that every member of the congregation is given a calling - a responsibility - to contribute to the community of our wards and stakes. For a year and a half I was first counselor in our ward's Relief Society presidency. Then I got released almost two weeks ago. I was kind of bummed out about it, and also totally anxious about what could potentially be my next calling. The anxiety compounded when I heard our ward choir director was going back to school the very same week I got released.

Anyway, last night I was issued a new calling, and I won't go in to the details of it until I get sustained and set apart in a couple of weeks, but the conversation that ensued was pretty funny.

Me: So, presumably, I will now have to attend [such and such] activities?
Stake Presidency Member I'd Never Met Before: Can I infer from that statement you don't already attend?
Me: That would be a correct inference.
Stake Presidency Member I'd Never Met Before: Yes. You not only have to attend, you get to plan them and be the face of them.
Me: Shoot... ok. I guess I can do that.

The good news is I am not the ward choir director.

BatCat!

seriously, zooborns is the greatest thing ever.

late start wednesdays!

When I was in middle school they started this amazing thing where every wednesday students didn't have to come to school until 10:20 (a whole hour later than usual!!!) Something about teachers needing inservice time, blah blah blah.

So, now that I'm back in a middle school setting, I don't get a late start on Wednesdays, but the school day does start a half an hour later than usual. To borrow a phrase from 1993: cool beans! With no meetings to attend or prep work to do, I went to the main office to get my chat on, and ended up on a coffee run. Delightful way to spend twenty minutes if I do say so.

On my way back to the room before I had to meet with a student, I stopped off in the special ed room, just to have a little chat with a few of the most fun people in the school. Anyway, we were talking about bad jokes, and I of course told my all-time favorite joke, "did you hear about the gay midget?"* This lead to one of the teachers going to very old math curriculum that is no longer used, but that she was looking to for activity ideas. She pulled out this sheet:

(Sorry about the terrible image quality -- it's Earth week, so only half of the lights are on in the classroom.) 

Just looking at the letters that were given I immediately cringed. Man oh man--that is terrible.

*he came out of the cupboard.  buh dum pum.

Overheard in the hall this morning:

"In the future, when I'm a secret agent, I'm going to need your help. You in?"

I think there are three probable explanations:
1. This child is a little kooky and has big, big dreams. (But something tells me he's not near stealth enough to make these dreams a reality...hello--I overheard his whole conversation.) (Or maybe that was his plan. What a wily little mastermind.) (I take it all back, kid.)
2. This child is planning a little intrigue for the very near future, most probably to get his flirt on with the adorable girl he said this to.
3.Sam, Quantum Lept into this person to correct some important act and thus reset the course of history/the future.


I'm really hoping for door number two. Nothing says delightful like middle school flirtation.

Have You Heard: Best Ever vol 2

Just six more of the best ever



 

• She Smiled Sweetly - The Rolling Stones
• Brass in Pocket - The Pretenders
• Modern Girls and Old Fashioned Men - The Strokes and Regina Spektor
• We're Having a Party - Sam Cooke
• How Deep is Your Love - The Bird and the Bee
• The Champ - Dizzy Gillespie

Have You Heard: Andrews Sisters

The Andrews Sisters are a throw back to my high school years--which coincidentally were not during World War II, though there were a lot of victory rolls going on.

This song has officially been in my head for three days. The weather is beautiful, and the atmosphere optomistic. I really do love the Spring.

Dear awkward science teacher,

I feel like I should let you know when you want people, or me more specifically, to do a favor for you, perhaps you shouldn't start off the conversation telling me I am terrible at computers simply because I never check my district email. That's not being terrible at computers, that's being disinterested in district-wide communication. There's a difference.

Also, when I tell you I'll let you know whether or not I'll have time to do this favor you ask, don't send your aide down to my room with a crate full of crap.

I did end up doing this favor for you, but I was bitter the whole time, and have subsequently decided to never do your job for you again. \

All because you said I was terrible at computers.

Also, no one cares about your kayaking stories.  Molly, now you're just being petty.

How to make adorable kids not so adorable.

When I opened explorer this morning, the district homepage was featuring this photo loud and proud of some adorable little prize-winning authors.

 My question to the photographer of this picture is this: have you never heard the phrase "and one more for safety"? Further more, you were using a digital camera, how did you not notice that you had captured a supremely terrible photo and try again?

My buddy, Marcel Proust

About a million years ago, I made a list of things to do before I turned 30. I have been plugging away at that list for a long time: take a hip hop class [check], dye my hair a crazy color [check, check and check], go to Africa [check], watch all three Godfathers in one day (ugh, longest day ever, but [check]).

One of the things I have yet to accomplish is "Read complete In Search of Lost Time by Marcel Proust."* I started on this goal a while ago, and then lost steam. I decided to pick up virtually every book I could get my hands on that wasn't by Proust.** I really do like the way Proust,*** and let's be honest here--his translator C.K. Scott Moncrieff, turn a phrase. And that remains the draw to complete this goal.

That and the fact that I am pretentious.

For the past few days, with a sense of great urgency, I've been back at it. Proust + Molly = quality time. To get me back in to the swing of things, I went back to the very beginning of the series and looked at all of the sections I underlined and starred and wrote comments in the margins next to. The insights presented and the beauty of some of these sentences make the mundane verbosity that can bore me through the rest of the books completely worth the journey. (Shoot, I even learned a new word or two. "Inveigh against" anyone?)

I thought to keep me accountable for my progress, I'd post some of the quotes on here. This of course, is the poorly executed first one that I just threw together in Word being on a school PC and without my wacom and Adobe. Deal with it.****



Photo blatantly stolen from Harry Benson. One of the greatest photogs ever.



* When I told my friend Annie that this was my goal, she said told me that she had to read some of it in French whilst she was studying abroad. If I were to even try to attempt that, I'd only be able to comprehend basic nouns, verbs and phrases like "mettre la charrue avant les boeufs," or "tourne autour du pot." Sad and true.

**At BYU, my advisor Tom Russell literally gave me the instruction to "Read Everything you can"--maybe I will use that as an out? Except for that he also gave me the instruction to "write everyday" and I get a big Molly Fail for that guy.

*** Remember in Little Miss Sunshine when Steve Carell is suicidal because the grad student he was in love with left him, the number 1 Proust scholar in the country for number 2? Also, remember how at the end of each Vanity Fair issue there is the "Proust questionnaire"? It's that guy.

****Everytime I say that I think of Phil from "Better off Ted." The episode where he and Lem get the cadaver for the lab. Hilarious.

Have You Heard

Just six of the greatest ever:

• Me & Julio Down By the Schoolyard - Paul Simon
• Anti Love Song - Betty Davis
• Age of Consent - New Order
• Can't Get Next To You - Al Green
• Here You Come Again - Dolly Parton
• All I Want is You - U2

No big deal.

double ewe tee eff question mark

"no description available"-- that's about right.

Is this for realsies?
There are more videos on the website.
I kind of think it's real. 
Triple ick.

Saint Bernard & The Virgin

Yesterday my family gathered at my Grandfather's house to celebrate his 89th birthday, it was a super fun time, despite the fact that CRAZY* Glenn Beck** came up several times. When my dad's wife asked me why I thought Glenn Beck was kookoo, I said, I don't think we should talk about that and went back to talking to my cousin Jill who came down from college in Seattle for the day.  This is not important, or what I started out with the intention of writing about.

Part of the conversation my brother and I were having was about Dali. Neurological pathways being what they are, I went: Dali --> Art + Spain --> Madrid --> Prado --> Saint Bernard and the Virgin by Alonso Cano = Molly being traumatized by art.

Just like when you taste something terrible, you say, "try it" or smell something disgusting you shove it in front of your friends' noses, I saw something horrifying and I am going to say to you, "look!"

My day at the Prado a million years ago would probably never go down as a good day for Molly at a museum. I could endlessly roam through the Met or the National Gallery or the Frick Collection, but the Prado does not equal Molly's brand of fun. When I stumbled across this horrifying image, I was so disturbed I can't even tell you. Not only the fact that Mary is projectile shooting breast milk in to Saint Bernard's mouth (I don't know who Saint Bernard is, but I'm assuming he's the patron saint of large dogs?) -- and that's a big issue for me -- but the physics of the stream seems not quite right. And his facial expression...no one looks like that when they are getting liquid shot at their face. Sure, it doesn't have to be realistic--it's art, but I don't really understand the meaning behind it, so just going by aesthetics, I still don't get it. Ick.


*Not crazy in the "wild and crazy guys" fun way, but delusional, disturbing and where-the-eff-are-you-coming-up-with-these-ideas, egomaniac kind of way.
**I recently found out homeboy is Mormon. I realize that I am a lot more liberal than many of my Mormon contemporaries, but being an active member of my church, I'm still a fairly conservative person in the big scheme of things.  I cannot reconcile the idea that Glenn Beck and I share any of the same beliefs or paradigms. Talk about ick.

"It's such a fine line between clever and stupid."

That of course is a line from one of my all-time favorite comedies, "This is Spinal Tap." I bring it up because recently I discovered that "Rock n Roll High School" is on Netflix streaming right now.  My brother, who introduced me to the Ramones at a very young age, had tried for a long time to get a copy of this movie. He ended up with a Japanese Laser Disc, back in the day, with awesome bright yellow Japanese subtitles throughout that you couldn't turn off. We of course watched it anyway. Then DVDs happened and "Rock n Roll" was back in print. But now with Netflix streaming, I can tell you all to go and spend a very delightful 90 minutes with a truly amazing soundtrack. I may or may not have watched it twice in the past month on streaming.

My favorite parts include the music teacher from the school, and Eagle Bauer* (played by the incomparable Clint Howard.) Also, I love when Kate hands the excuse notes to Principal Togar. Really Kate, the first note could have gotten Riff out of class for more than one day. That's all I'm saying.

Anyway, it is clever and stupid, and you will giggle.

*When he demonstrates like six different bra fasteners to Tom - they are all velcro, which I don't think is used as a fastener on any bra. But he's working with a blowup doll, so that's already pretty complicated.

What I miss about middle school?

A whole lotta nothing.

That being said, I have fun now. Today I helped chaperon a day-time end of quarter party. It was super hilarious. I only sort of danced around like an idiot, mostly I was watching from the wings as the little socially-inept 'tweens stood around.

Favorite thing #1 had to be the geriatric DJ- he was so stoic as he played "I'm Sexy and I know it" and some like six year old* T-Pain action with "Apple Bottom Jeans."
Favorite thing #2 was a little goth-dressed girl getting her jam on to aforementioned songs, and singing along to every word. It was super precious. 


*How is this song still getting serious airplay? It's fun and dancy, but it's been YEARS. I knew this song when I was still back in Provo, (I moved back to P-town at the end of 2007) and my young friends at DA and I would jam out to that and to Hata Blockaz:


(It was that or Rascal Flatts with those kids, and you can bet your sweet, sweet bippy I'll take Acafool and T-Pain over those whiny dudes every time.)