Have You Heard: Doctor's Orders

One of the like four questions Annie and I got wrong last week at the Sex and the City trivia night was about this song:



I think this song is hilarious, and I will now always remember this song. I will think of Charlotte drunk on the dance floor in Staten Island lip-syncing the words. Even more hilarious.

And just so you know, we did leave with a trophy. And some condoms. That's right, kids, Molly Mormon and her friend Annie, the good little Catholic girl won condoms at a Sex and the City trivia night.

Lest you think we watch this show all the time... I've only seen most of the episodes twice. In college my roommate Kristen got me hooked on the show, but being someone who is far more comfortable with randomness than myself, would rent the DVDs from blockbuster by what they had in stock, not by chronology. I hopped on her SATC train very late, and watched a couple of the seasons with her, thinking I had seen most of it. Years later, I was talking to my friend Becky about our common love of the show and she kept mentioning episodes I hadn't seen. She lent me her set of DVDs and I went through and watched what I previously hadn't seen. Then last year, I asked Bex to borrow them again so I could watch them in chronological order - but confession, I started in the middle of season two, because I really dislike season 1. To prepare for the trivia night I watched seasons one and two again. But narratives just stick in my brain. Books, movies, tv shows. My brain likes stories.

It wasn't a clear domination like it was on The Office and Mad Men. The physical challenge was to give the trivia jock our best Kim Cattrall come hither look, and while both of us couldn't even begin to do that, I earned us points by verbally propositioning her instead.  I quoted Samantha from the episode "The Drought." I won't go in to any more detail than that, but it was super funny.

You look familiar...

Yesterday at church, a girl who just moved in to my ward said, "you look really familiar" after I introduced myself to her. She then said, "I think I remember you from camp." "Really?" "Are you a singer?" "Um, I guess so." "And you didn't talk one year*, and were in charge of campfire?" "WOAH! You're amazing!" While I don't expect people to have this level of neurological connection when they say, "you look really familiar," I am totally impressed by her.

A couple months ago I ran into someone from high school (I'll give you a nickel if you can tell me whether I recognized them or not.) They said, "you look really familiar." Then gave me three choices of how I could know them. Linfield College, Willamette Athletic Club, or some popular Christian church in town. When I said, unfortunately, I don't have any associations with any of those places, they offered up AHS. While I have no recall of this person, they were able to put two and two together. Through a process of elimination and some collaboration, together we were able to discover how they knew me.

The receptionist at the school I've been at for the last three weeks looks really familiar to me, but I cannot put her in to any sort of context that makes sense, so I haven't brought it up. That's how I roll. 

Let's contrast these with a woman I met today at work. She was subbing for a teacher in the building, and during afternoon recess, as I'm trying to check my email, she was just chatting away about a whole lotta nothin** at me (already I knew we were not about to be besties.) "You look really familiar," she said, and then nothing more, but just waited for me to recognize her. I said I didn't know her, as politely as possible, but again, homegirl over here was trying to read her email. She said she must know me, but again offered no context clues for how I might know her. She then asked me where in the district I usually sub. "Well, I do a lot at [specific middle school] and [specific high school] but other than that, it's pretty much all over. I've been here for three weeks." Then she really made me crazy. "So you like older kids more than younger kids." "I guess so. Little kids are cute, but they are a little needy." "That's what I love about them.*** You must not be a mom.**** You're at [specific middle school] a lot, do you know [person's name?]" "They work at [specific middle school]?" "No, he's an 8th grader." "Nope, I don't." (Because with 800+ students in the school, someone who occasionally subs there should know specific students? Who is this woman?) (Also, I'm still trying to read my email.)  She then went back to how she just has to know me, and waited for me to do the investigative legwork and offer up details about my life. (I'll give you another nickel if you can tell me whether or not I cared to do that. I'm already not the most forth-coming person ever, but if it's someone that I don't even want to be talking to... well goodnight and good luck.) Suffice it to say, the mystery of how codependent jerk wad knew me goes on unsolved. And if I ever see this woman again, (and recognize her - there's the rub) I'm going to walk the other way.

* I did a vocal fast for six weeks in high school, and that included a week at girls' camp. Yes, I didn't talk at all for six weeks.
** This was beyond small talk. I fine with, some pleasantries, but then let's just go our separate ways.
*** I wanted to say, "Ok, codependence."
**** Bitch.

I Think Therefore I'm Single

I saw a bumper sticker today that said, "I think therefore I'm single." Initially I was taken aback. When I come up with reasons why I'm single, of which there are several, the fact that I think has never made that list. I have my fair share of flibbertigibbet moments, but if I'm being honest, I think every second of every day. Could thinking really be a liability to coupledom- (You act like bumper stickers never send you into an existential crisis.) (Or in to rage blackouts.) or maybe it's just the way that the person driving that car thinks as to why she's single? Maybe it's commentary on guys liking girls who aren't very complicated? In any case, I don't get it. Add that to the list of bumper stickers I'll never put on my car.

Actual Journal Entry: December 17, 2005

I used to have a mind that would remember everything, (and I would document it all). Either my brain is faltering (which is totally the case) or I subconsciously decided I didn't need to remember every detail about every little thing. Now a days, well, the old grey mare she ain't what she used to be. I went scouring through a couple of my old journals tonight looking for a specific entry, which I didn't come across, but I did find a whole lot from 2005 that, had I not been reminded of it happening, I would have completely forgotten and not been worse for it. This is one of those instances. It is so Jr.-High-ridiculous it's sad:

7:35am - In the Sky
Last Friday I was training this new girl Lindsay at the Good Earth ... She decided Mason and I were either already dating and hiding it, or that a romance was blossoming before her very eyes! Now, I know I have a soft spot for charmingly egotistical republicans -- I've been trying to rid myself of this serious character flaw since the Republican moved away -- but this guy, no. He goes to UVSC and has a bone to pick with me simply because I'm from Oregon. Anyway, I laughed off Lindsay's claims, but she just kept saying, "you guys just have a lot of chemistry." As we were counting out I told Liz, and apparently Liz decided that Mason should know. The next time I saw him, Mason said, "So we have chemistry, huh?" "Well I don't think so, at least not with each other." We spent a few minutes laughing and talking behind the manager's desk, and apparently that was all it took for every other employee at the store to decide that we were in fact in a relationship. By Tuesday it was a well-known fact that we were an item, and apparently he and I are adding fuel to the fire by admitting our couple status and then making up bold-faced lies to support the fictitious claims. The fact that I hugged Aaron good night at the store-- and oh looks I got when Randy walked up to me yesterday and said, "embrace me." If these kids only knew it was Randy I was with until three Thursday night, not Mason. Also, pretty sure Randy's gay.

...

After I got off of work last night I sent Nephi a message asking him what he was doing. He responded with such a great text; I'll document it once we've landed and I can turn my phone on again (yes, I remembered to bring my phone this time, and yes, it is still functioning quite well despite its trip through the washing machine.) It was something like, "I'M WRITING. That's as monolithic as I can make that appear. One guess as to whether monolithic was in my cell's predictive text." I told him I needed to give him Arrested season one before I head home. Just in case it proves to be too off-color for him to enjoy, I also lent him Chuck Dugan is AWOL, which is a total boy book. He and Rick came over to hang out with Jen and I. Nephi, like the good egg he is, left at curfew, and then Rick came to my room to chat while I packed. I just adore those guys! (And, I'm pretty confident that they know nothing about the crazy "Life as a House" activities Randy was telling me about that take place in that park by I-15. Not gay.)  Anyway, while we were talking, Rick told me to stop being so concerned with "leagues." I told him I'd stop thinking leagues were the sole way the world functions as soon as the gas station stops being the place where I get the most attention from men. 

Have you heard: Elvis Costello & The Attractions

I got an email last week about an upcoming Elvis Costello concert here in PTown. I've never really gotten in to Elvis Costello, like ever before. Frankly, I didn't see what all of the fuss was about. In trying to decide if I wanted to attend said show, I went to Lucille 2 and searched for the Elvis Costello songs I already have. Songs like "Alison," "Watching the Detectives," "Radio Radio," and a few truly mediocre covers. None of which I find outstanding. (I really like the organ on "Radio Radio" though.)

But then, I had a song called "Pump It Up," I have no idea where it (or any of these other songs really) came from, (maybe my brother?) but it's been on Lucille 2 for as long as I've had it...years.



I feel like I need to do some more research on old Declan MacManus and find out if there are more ditties that I would love as much as I love "Pump it Up." Any suggestions?

so, tonight at FHE...

actually, how about some back story?

A while back as I sat in Sacrament meeting trying to focus, I got distracted by some commotion. Someone came in late and found a seat next to his friends. This wouldn't be shocking, disturbing, or noteworthy if what I'm about to relay didn't happen. (Those who are easily shocked or offended, please stop reading right now.) As one friend crawled over his buddy to get into the pew, (ugh, this is so gross) and his legs were apart, the seated friend took his fist (oh my gosh, why I am documenting this?) and jammed it up his friend's butt. Not a playful tap, no, it was a full-powered, homoerotic fisting. To say that I was scandalized would be fair. I had never before witnessed anything like that, let alone one at church, in the middle of Sacrament meeting no less. YIKES.  Unable to control myself, I let out an audible gasp, and immediately turned my attention back to the speaker. One of the bishopric members made eye contact with me and shot me a quizzical look like, "what just happened?" I just shook my head quickly and then tried my hardest to erase what I had witnessed from my brain. (I obviously succeeded.)

Tonight, in talking to a couple girls I adore and don't get enough time with, we started talking about who they had crushes on. One of the girls said she sort of had a crush on a guy, let's call him Leif. (Unlike most of the times I say that, Leif is not his name.) They were meeting later tonight to hang out. I asked her who Leif was. (I try my hardest to know who all of the girls are for my calling, but aside from a very select few, I don't really have any interest in any of the guys in my ward, platonic or otherwise, so I know like 20 guys' names.) She tried to describe Leif, and when we were talking about where in the chapel he sits every week, and she said the exact location where the sexual harassment took place, I knew it couldn't be one of those guys so I told them the story of what I witnessed. "No," I said, "the guy that did it has like the worst hair cut ever. Like Caesar bangs and way too short on the sides. He and his friends sit there every week and act all too cool for school. It can't be that guy." Our third friend was pretty convinced these guys were one and the same.  I would never guess that this charming, bubbly girl could like the crude, too cool for school, bad hair cut guy. To settle the debate, we went to the clerk's office to look at a photo directory. Sure enough, as soon as I came to Leif's picture, I knew it was the same guy. I then scoured the book trying to find the victim of the assault. He too was exactly who our third friend said it was.

So, I lied. I pointed out the victim, but never named who the assailant was. After I left, I shot the third friend a text, "Don't tell Dottie,*  but Leif WAS the perv." She then replied, "I totally knew he was! The minute you started talking about him I knew exactly who he was! Eek, we need to get her away from him!"

Should I tell Dottie that I lied and Leif is the creeper in question, or should I just mind my own business for once? I don't think she reads my blog...but in case she does, Hi, Dottie!


*Her name isn't really Dottie. But wouldn't it be crazy awesome to know that there was someone under 80 named Dottie?

Put a Bird on It!

Sometimes people are so wholly converted to an idea that they cannot help but try to share that idea with everyone they come in contact with. I can be still no longer.

While birds were exhaustively trendy last year,* when Carrie and Fred said, "Put a bird on it," by "it" they didn't mean nappy trying-to-be-sexy-messy-bun-but-really-just-unkempt hair. And they certainly didn't mean a 3 dimensional bird swiped from a wreath of artificial flowers bought at Michael's.  

Also, Portlandia isn't funny.


*Birds are over. So are fake mustaches on sticks.

Passive Aggressive Matchmaking.

I love Emma by Jane Austen. That is probably the only thing you need to know as far as background goes for this anecdote.

A few weeks ago, I decided that my friends Rick and Rachel would be perfect for each other, despite the fact that Rick lives in SLC, and Rachel Portland. I was talking to Rick on the phone and told him a little bit about Rachel. Some of my reasons were that neither of them are agoraphobic nor extroverted*, they are both super funny and sarcastic, and they both delight in making me feel foolish. We talked about how they both grossly under utilize the DVD aspect of Netflix, one has had some Chinese film for like three years, the other had Inception for about six months last year before getting around to watching it.

He didn't seem super anxious to be set up.** But of course, I persisted. I sent them both the same email briefly introducing them, and then let it be.

Then I didn't hear from either of them for a long while, despite the fact that I texted and called both of them. I began to fear that they were annoyed with me. I was more concerned with Rachel being upset than Rick, because Rachel is our RSP and I, her first counselor - that's probably not a relationship that should be rife with animosity. 

So Rachel finally acknowledged my existence and of course delighted in telling me that she was really enjoying seeing how long she could go without talking to me, just to keep me on pins and needles. So tonight, I sent Rick an email:

Thank you so much for acknowledging my previous texts, your receipt of my Christmas card, and my existence! You're so thoughtful that way.

Fact: after I sent that last email to you and my friend Rachel, whom I still say would be a good match for you, I didn't hear from Rachel either. And, it wasn't until a previously planned movie night with the rest of our presidency that she talked to me, despite my calls and texts to her. She wasn't angry at all, but she thought it would be hilarious to see how long she could go without talking to me since I called her and left a couple messages asking if she was upset with me.

Just another reason why I think you should email her. You two clearly derive the same sick joy out of treating me poorly.

If you don't however wish to pursue any sort of potential for eternal companionship, or a new friend who is super funny, that is fine. I'll leave it alone. But at some point you really should answer your friend's texts.

I stand by the fact that these two crazy kids would be a really good match. I'll leave it alone but only after the previous status quo of my relations with each of them is restored.

*To which he responded, "So because we are both single, Mormon and somewhere between agoraphobic and extroverted you think we'd be a good match," which is EXACTLY what Rachel would say.

**but he did coin their name mash-up nickname "Rickhel".