Monday, February 28, 2005

Thanks for Perverting my Metaphor

This is a rough draft of a poem I just wrote. It's dedicated to Eleka Nahmen, to whom the title refers (though definitely not the rest of the poem).

Thanks for Perverting my Metaphor

She brought a plate of sugar cookies by
As silver glint shone in my lidless eye
She left them on the table just for him
I chased the lure as fast as I could swim
She then continued on her cookie route
As I became aware of other trout
She left each boy a dozen and a hug
We swam in close to bite the shiny bug
He ran outside and passed the men's dumb fight
Outswimming all I took the winning bite
He tracked her down and took her by the hand
While unseen wire whisked me away to land
He swore his love would never part till death
My lure had left me here with bated breath
When both our sorry tales have been recounted
The two of us are cleaned up, stuffed and... mounted?

--Poet Smurf

Thursday, February 24, 2005


Or is it Catsup? Oh yeah, it's Catch Up.

Eleka Nahmen came in to eat at my restaurant with a friend from work. They were delightful. I hope I get that efy job again this summer so I can work with them. Even if that doesn't work out, I think we should still hang out some time. That same night I served a couple from South Carolina who had questions about the church, so I had a little micro-missionary experience. Good to remember that there are people out there who haven't already heard the gospel, and that there's still work to do.

Friday night my brother got into town with his friends. We had a blast. We went to D.I., ate at the hospital, played battleship in Helaman Halls, ate at my restaurant, played Battle of the Sexes (my brother's knowledge of feminine beauty products left us all agog, even BamaBeau, who answered the final question about some sort of fabric with metallic threads interwoven), and that's about all.

Sunday I played Diplomacy with Asmond and some of his friends from his Japanese class. I think I did pretty well considering it was my first time playing. One of the girls had told Asmond that she was a writer for the Hundred Hour Board. It was funny when I met her because she kept trying to pretend she was. Who does that? Anyway, I was able to tell him for sure that she was not actually a writer. I can't believe the irony of it. We left with her pretense intact.

Before all of that on Sunday, I had an interview with my new bishop for efy, and had a very interesting talk with him. He challenged me to get married before I'm 25. Well, easier said than done, right? I mean, I'm 24. He said not to rush it like my brother, Ouija, who got engaged after two months and is getting married two months after that. He said 4-10 months is appropriate before the engagement. He gave me the blessing I've been needing for a long time. He gave me all sorts of counsel about how to find a wife, a lot of it speaking to the speacial circumstances he didn't know I had. That made me very happy. I left there feeling pumped about it. I'd never had anyone be so candid with me about the marriage issue. Most bishops have always seemed to feel uncomfortable talking about it. I even had one bishop who called me into the office just to tell me that if I didn't ever get the chance to get married in this life, that the Lord would provide for me in the next. Yeah, thanks, Bish. Is a bishop of a Single's Ward supposed to say things like that to his flock? Anyway, my new bishop was much better, and I really believed what he was saying.

Monday I went with BamaBeau, Wiggle, D, and Esther to SLC. BamaBeau had discovered a restaurant called the One World Cafe. Instead of a menu they have a mission statement. The food varies from day to day, and includes a lot of Vegan, organic, and unprocessed stuff. We tried some strange grain called quineu or something from South America. And tofu and all that weird hippie junk. We ate in a kinda dirty room that just had small squatty chairs and a table and carpet and stuff. It was like an old hippie's living room, and there we were on the floor. The food was palatable, I thought. Now the really weird part about the restaurant was that there was a box for the money. Everyone just puts in what he thinks his meal was worth. I left 8 bucks, though I probably ate a little more than that. D left three dollars. D and Wiggle hated it so much. It was really great to watch their faces as they systematically tried and hated all the weird things on their plates. When we were done with that, we went straight to the mall and had real food. Then we went to the D.I. and then we came home. I spent the rest of the evening watching past Oscar-nominated movies on AMC all by myself, in spite of several invitations from other people to hang out with them. Crazy Republican KT was making macaroni and cheese on honor of President's day. Alecia (my boss) and my secretary were doing movie night. Toasteroven and Laulau were chilling. Bamabeau and Wiggle were watching Moulin Rouge and eating brownies. Rachel from work wanted to go ice blocking. I just sat there alone, though, feeling guilty for passing up all those invitations, and scarfing down the whole free pizza that I got from Heather Angela Hawks.

Now here's where the problems started.

Toasteroven taught a lesson about how every sin we commit stems from a lack of faith. I have plenty of faith in the Lord. But not much in other people. Particularly female ones.

There I was avoiding the company of several girls who'd invited me to do things. There were plenty more girls I could have called, too. So why didn't I? I feel like it will be very hard for me to find a girl who can love me in spite of my weaknesses. Anyway, I'm explaining before telling what I did. Let's have that the other way around.

I almost met up with a gay guy who found me and had been talking to me online. In fact, I probably would have last night, if not for Toasteroven's inspired intervention. This really scares me. There have been a few other times in my life when I've been on the cusp of falling or at the nadir of temptation and been saved not by my own strength of character but by the sagacity of those around me. I am so grateful for my safety net of friends, but why am I not strong enough to just stay balanced on the wire by myself? It's disturbing. I made some other mistakes, too, over the last few days, and that's not a good thing. Toasteroven made me consider why, and I think it comes back down to what I mentioned earlier.

You know how when you make a lot of progress in your life the temptations seem to kick into overdrive? Like Satan senses a lot of spritual activity on his radar so he tries to swat you back down? Well, I think that's what was happening here. Stupidly, I forgot what the main point of my talk with the bishop had been: that I could ask the Lord to bless me with a good wife, and that he'd give it to me. Ask, and ye shall receive. Instead I was left with his admonitions about what I needed to do fulminating in my ears, and that seemed great for a while, and then it seemed burdensome. Is that a word? Sometimes I feel very alone. I feel that the struggles I face are for me to face by myself. But I want someone there to hold me while I do. Anyway, that's all the more reason for me to want to find a wife. But this is where that fundamental lack of faith comes in. I have to realize that my lack of faith in womankind is really a lack of faith in the savior's ability to provide me with a woman who will fulfill my needs. I feel I have many great friends, but they all seem to feel further from me than I do from them. This might be because I have so many friends, and try to spend time with so many people.

Anyway. The bottom line is that I didn't make the big egregious error. I still was willing to in my heart, though. So it's that time again. Time to fortify where I've seen yet another weakness. I'm going to be all right. It's important for me to write about this here. Part of my problem is that I feel that it's important for me to be an example, and I don't know how to reconcile the dichotomy that arises when I do mess up. I forget where I read it (maybe Harry Potter?), but somebody said that bravery is not a lack of fear; it's facing your fears. So maybe righteousness is not a lack of temptation; it's facing temptation. Maybe I can still have weakness and be a force for good just by my willingness to turn around and do better.

Definitely it's more important that I make good decisions than that I let others see them, at any rate. And for now I can work on having faith that the Lord will provide me with a great woman who will be willing to be my safety net when I fall, and let me be hers.

Anyway, I ended up playing Argue with Uffish Thought, Novel Concept, and bunches of other friends last night. I was so grateful for that. I needed it. I'll be working a lot this weekend. Then Sunday is a potluck at Wiggle's, and then I want to have an Oscar party. All are invited.

Thanks for your friendship, all. Here's another quiz, but this time it's about ME. Two pounds of Jelly Belly Belly Flops for the winner when I get back from California!

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

Smurf Quiz

Toasteroven's computer has been dead recently, so not much Blog activity from me. I promise I'll catch up soon. Meanwhile, take a quiz I made about the smurfs:

Have fun!

Tuesday, February 15, 2005


I feel like saying something. You don't have to read it.

My brother is coming to town this weekend. He is bringing all the duct-tape purses he's made, and will be selling them for $10 a pop. I assure you they are vey nice. He told me that the DI is up to 64% of the reason he's making the trip. I need to get as many of my freshmen friends to come hang out on Saturday as I can.

I'm getting pretty hungry. I wish someone were here to make some Hamburger Helper for me right now.

I've been hanging out with my friends from work lately. It's refreshing to realize that the Board isn't the only group of amazing people out there.

I'm not sure I entirely like Ocean's 12. I missed the idea of each of them contributing something the others couldn't. I really would have liked to see Bernie Mac's character do more.

My friend Wicket up and moved to New Mexico without telling anybody. I sure miss that guy. Meanwhile, I haven't heard from my friend Brad since my birthday. I realize I could always re-establish contact, but I'm worried about what I might learn. Especially since I got what might be a suicide note from him shortly before he disappeared. Something is telling me that I just don't want to know. I still haven't mailed his Christmas present, either, so maybe it's just guilt.

Gravy told me the other day that he wants to make sure he lives somewhere in the western United States when he gets older so that he'll still be close to me, so we can go hang out and stuff. That's really awesome. I forget sometimes how much the Board hates him. He really isn't crazy; he's just rash and thoughtless. Just sickeningly yellow with a bright red stripe. Anyway, I guess I do the same sorts of things, which might explain why we're friends.

Valentine's day was a non-issue for me.

My co-worker, Erin, has agreed to take my shift at work on Saturday so I can hang out with my brother. It's really hard for me to imagine why she would do that. She has two kids, and is just very great. Thank you, Erin. Your benevolence astounds me.

My friend Rhett makes me laugh. He's so hilarious. You should meet him.

My brother is getting married in the chapel. Sad. I guess his branch president doesn't feel like his fiancee is ready, since she's only recently come back to the church. I'm nervous for them, especially with the 100% divorce rate among my parents and their immediate families. As in my parents, their siblings, and their parents have all been divorced at least once. Hopefully that won't be passed on to their kids.

Recent discussions about whether I'm evil have had me thinking. But I've since come to just laugh about that. There's no way I could be evil, since I'm so freaking happy all the time. Wickedness never was happiness, right? Now if we want to talk about whether I'm irresponsible or maybe even crazy, you might be able to build a case.

Dinner on Sunday was delightful. The food was excellent and the conversation was worthy of it. I have borrowed "The Princess and The Goblin" from my friend Jenny. So far it's great.

Wiggle just told me I look so adorable.

I love my rock collection. Can I just say that? I think it's really great. Sometimes I take it out and look at it.

I am on the verge of writing a poem called "Eve, Inconsiderate," about how I feel about women. That will answer some of your questions. Did you notice the play on words?

I've heard about these Chocolate Lucky Charms. I'm a bit afraid.

While many people have told me I have too many opinions, Asmond is always there to back me up. I really love that. He is such a high-quality person. Go read his blog. It's beautiful. On the other hand, J is still grounded for never hanging out with me.

I was in the Herald last Wednesday. One friend actually read it on his own and then said something to me about it. Now he tells everyone I'm a celebrity. Maybe it's true.

I sent a funny note to Crazy Republican Katie at church on Sunday. I'll be working during the ward Valentine's Day dodge ball single-elimination tournament.

I'm totally craving Chik-fil-A. I need to cash some paychecks.

It snowed last night. I hate that. If you know me, you already know that I hate it.

I am currently looking at the can of mushroom gravy I was left as a tip. Gravy actually called in a pretense of anger, demanding I return it to him and inquiring as to why I took it in the first place. He's such an alien, I swear.

I'll be making a trip to the BYUSA offices soon, but not for any naughty reasons. I just need to figure out where they are. I wonder if it's the same place where Benvolio works. I get so confused about BYU.

In less than two weeks I will be camping on the beach! Hooray! And with that, my friends, I take my leave. Tune in next time. Same smurf time. Same smurf channel.

Saturday, February 12, 2005

Every Rose Has its Thorn

Gather round, children dear. It's story time. This is the story of a Princess named Rose.

Well, at least she expects everyone to treat her like a princess.

Rose was the new girl in our ward last winter. She was very exotic looking and had magazine ads she'd modeled for. She was always at church, so it came as a surprise to me to learn from her roommates that she wasn't a member of the church. They said she'd taken the missionary discussions several times and had a testimony but had never made it all the way to baptism.

Then Wiggle and her roommate Heather Angela Hawks moved into the ward. They first met Rose at FHE. Right after the activity, Heathen came up and whispered something to me. "See that girl right there? That's a man."

Wiggle had overheard. "YES! Thankyou! I had been thinking that same thing!" It was funnier coming from Wiggle because she's not from the San Francisco Gay Area.

My first reaction was incredulity. I looked at her. There definitely could have been an Adam's apple there. And she definitely didn't seem to have any hips to speak of. And her hands were almost as big as mine...

But no. There's no way, right? Time went on, and there was further evidence. Rose had been swimming with us a few times, but had never undressed. Kinda strange considering she was a model. She would show her belly, but never any cleavage. Several friends swore they saw a bulge in her pants on a few different occasions. Then there was the voice. And the mannerisms. Rose didn't act like a woman; she acted like a drag queen.

When the beginning of summer came, several of the guys decided to go camping. Rose came, and brought her freshman boyfriend, Ian. We were beside ourselves. This was our opportunity to be with Rose for several days, during which time she wouldn't have an opportunity to shave. If she grew facial hair, we would know by the end of this trip.

Camping with Princess Rose was hell. She kept making unreasonable demands. She also refused to just go into the woods to pee. She insisted on cooking everything, but had no idea how to cook outdoors. We had to drive her back into town to use a port-a-potty just to get her to shut up.

It seemed worth it, though. By the end of the trip, Rose's face was darker. But not dark enough. Maybe we'd been attacking a girl who was actually just suffering from some sort of disease.

Our suspicions were rekindled one day at my house. I'd made dinner for several people, including Rose. I was in the living room bemoaning the fact that we men have to shave every day in order to attend BYU. I said I wished I could just get electrolosis done on my face, and wondered aloud how much that would cost. Rose's slithery voice came from the kitchen: "$250. And you have to get it done like three times. And even then it still comes in very thin." You should have seen the crazy looks we were exchanging in the living room.

I went away to efy. Had the time of my life. When I got home, I learned that Rose had been baptised. That was a little unsettling, but it was beyond my control.

Still, we wondered whether she was really a man. It seemed even more important now that Rose was doing baptisms for the dead and taking the sacrament every week. Heathen asked the 100 Hour board for advice. Misaneroth suggested that if we could get a cell sample, we could check for Barr bodies and thus determine her sex. The problem was how to get a cell sample.

After a few fruitless efforts, we decided to just let it go for a while.

Well, soon after that, Rose asked Wiggle if she could move into their house. Heathen objected, so Wiggle got to bear the bad news. But Wiggle also told Rose that she could store her belongings at their house.

As soon as Rose had moved it all in, Black, BamaBeau, and Heathen decided to go rummaging through the boxes. And they struck gold. Soon, BamaBeau had brought me a photocopy of Rose's driver license. I mean, um, Ross' driver licence. That's right, folks. Her name was Ross, and right next to the word "sex" and a little colon was a big fat capital letter "M." And that stands for Man.

Gravy's fiancee took a copy to the bishop. The bishop said that Rose had moved away, and that there wasn't really very much we could do about the situation.

You'd think that's the end of the story, but no, it's not.

A few nights ago, Asmond and I ran into the house to get something late at night. J-Dawg, my roommate, was sitting up in his undies playing the guitar by himself. "Oh, hey," he said calmly. "I ran into an old friend of mine at a party tonight. A girl I've known for a while and hung out with and stuff."

Why was he saying this?

He continued, "I told her that we had a copy of her driver's license at our house and that I'd find out why and let her know."


Anyway, the other roommates filled J-dawg in as soon as they left the party. They said that Rosse was definitely uncomfortable about the situation. J-Dawg felt pretty foolish, too.

Wherever Rosse is now, werf definitely knows that there's a copy of her license floating around. And she knows it says "M." And she knows where she left the original. I don't know what's going to happen next, but I know I don't want to be there when she comes for her stuff.

The end.

Wednesday, February 09, 2005


I got really cheesed off today and told the wrong people. Everyone had been wondering who would be the first to do it. Well, ladies and gentlemen, it was me. They went too far. And then I went too far. And now the smurfs are dead. Same with the Confessor and Shoebox. It really is my own fault, but I can't say that it disturbs me too much right now. As long as the Board is what it is, I don't really mind not being a part of it. It was fun while it lasted, and it may be good again in the future, but for now I want no part of it.

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

Warm Chip Lady

There's a lady who has shaken my faith in my ability to read people. She's called the "Warm Chip Lady. "

Several times a week the warm chip lady and her pre-teen daughter come into the restaurant where I work and request their favorite server. If he's not there they have a back-up list. When they've been seated, she requests "just a warm snack. Just a little snackety today," all the while scrunching up her nose like some marsupial mating call. She requests warm chips and a Diet Coke and asks for refill after refill and never orders a real meal. She leaves a fifty cent tip.

During the time the server was helping her, he could have been helping someone else who would have left a real tip. The thing that is so terrible to me is that she thinks the servers are delighted to be requested. And sure, that's nice, but no waiter cares whether you like him if you don't tip. So the question is one of whether I do this to people, whether, in fact, we all do it to each other all the time. Do I think I'm being nice by dropping in on friends, when really all they want is some quiet time? Et cetera.