where do jeans go when they die?

sitting in the car yesterday, looking down at the hole beginning to form in my favorite pair of jeans, i couldn't help but feel a certain sense of looming depression. not again. i'm not ready for this again. i'm not ready to lose another pair of jeans to the bottom of the drawer... to the place where "jeans i might pull out someday when i need something to wear with holes in it" go. this place isn't reserved for jeans that can be taken to DI... this is for favorite jeans with ameritus status. i'm just not ready for this. because the maker of favorite jeans plays a cruel joke on the world each time this happens: DISCONTINUED. this word means the end of comfort for a time. the end of getting home from church, tearing off the fancy clothes and reverting to the lazy pleasure that only favorite jeans can provide. it means it is time once again to stand in dressing room after dressing room throwing pair of jeans after pair of jeans on to the heaping pile of misery that is looking for the perfect fit. it means coming to grips with the fact that what once fit well is now out of my league. i can't do this. it's just too soon.

i say too-more-oh, you say ta-mar-oh

what is it about pronunciation and word choice that gets people all riled up and defensive? it seems that it's never about enjoying our diversity or uniqueness... it's about being right or wrong. who is saying it correctly and who is saying it "funny"? and you may be saying to yourself "i don't get defensive. what do i have to get defensive about? i don't say words with a funny accent... " but i promise you, there are words you say that people would think sound odd, and the second they pointed it out to you... you'd have something to say about it.

ten years ago, i packed up my belongings and headed to idaho for college. unaware that canadians even had an accent, i found it funny that people were constantly pointing mine out. "say ABOUT ... say TOMORROW ... say SORRY ... " are these people crazy? i say these words just like them!? -- i know now that this was false. slowly but surely the american accent made its way in, and my canadian accent made its way out. and soon my canadian friends were making fun of my american accent. "how's U-taaaw? i'm Saawree!" but the crazy thing is... the americans never stopped making fun of my occasional "mispronunciation". so now, i get it from both sides.

for your enjoyment (or my inability to filter out things that aren't really that interesting), here are a few of the changes i subconsciously and consciously made over the last ten years:

so-rry is now saw-rry
too-more-oh is now ta-mar-oh
grade 12 is now 12th grade (or "my senior year")
fleg is now flay-g (though, literally my mouth was not made to say this word with an american accent)
have a shower is now take a shower
write a test is now take a test
which r-OOTe are you taking? is now which r-OUTe are you taking?
washroom is now restroom
marks are now grades

and the list goes on and on.

so... who's right? and why in the world do we care? ... who knows... but we do!

so i'm going to do a little experiment on pronunciation (mostly to settle a little marital dispute. haha.) i want you to listen to the following audio pronunications and tell me what you hear:

do you think "ultimate" is said with an UHL sound or an OHL sound?
do you think "alternator" is said with an ALL sound or an UHL sound?

and seriously... i assure you, there is no T at the end of across!

RULDS2?

it was the summer of 1995 and my girlfriends and i were on our way to a flirt-filled week in rexburg, idaho at EFY (mormons love their acronyms... and this one stands for especially for youth). and since we were 16 and our parents were totally insane, the four of us DROVE to rexburg from british columbia in a sweet old VW van... alone. as in, by ourselves. SIXTEEN. anyway, not the point of this post. the point of this post is my earliest recollection of what has been dubbed the "mormon-radar"...

growing up on vancouver island, there was no need for the mormon-radar. if there was a mormon on the island, i knew them. my parents had probably grown up with their parents, we attended all the same activities... there was no such thing as "are you mormon?" for me in my early years, because i already knew the answer. so on this little roadtrip, for some reason, something on someone's car triggered the chain reaction in our car "hey! do you think they're mormon? ... i think they're mormon ... hey, how do we find out if they're mormon?" now, these guys in the car were probably from utah and had no clue why we would even care if they were mormon, since everyone they knew was mormon... but for us, it was like spotting a moose in the forest (which i happen to think is pretty cool... but may be a weird comparison to some i suppose. haha). so, we determined that since we were driving down the freeway at 80 miles an hour, our best bet was to make a sign. yes, folks. a sign. so we took a pen and an 8.5" x 11" piece of paper and wrote "Are you LDS?" on it. and we got a positive response. and we thought that was just so great. haha.

so that's my first experience, with many more to come. moving to rexburg for college was like being on mormon-caffeine (is that allowed?)... it was mormons on overload. it was great. everyone was mormon. it was like one big EFY for two whole years. then i moved on to utah... and i've been here for *gulp*... EIGHT years. so needless to say, i have become desensitized to the excitement of being surrounded by mormons -- though, i'm not complaining... i happen to like mormons. :) so, it wasn't until i started to go outside of utah again that i began to realize i had developed a keen sense for detecting mormons.

case in point... i am standing in the middle of the craziness that is the sistine chapel in rome, where supposedly everyone was supposed to be quiet... except the guy with the bull-horn who kept yelling "BE QUIET. NO PICTURES PLEASE. BE QUIET!" again... not the point of this post. so, i spot a woman bending down next to a little girl, pointing to the center of the ceiling, and i overhear her say, "see... there's Adam and Heavenly Father..." BINGO! i know other people say Heavenly Father... but THAT my friends, is what we call a signal. so i poke burton and say "she's mormon", but i don't say anything. about 30 seconds later, i'm standing behind another woman who has a peculiar under-garment line... much akin to my own... and i poke her in the shoulder. "are you mormon?" and she says "YES! how did you know?" and i explained "well, i could see the lines... etc etc" and it turns out she was with the other woman (i KNEW it) and we all chatted for about 10 minutes and they told us we should move to st. louis and move in to their ward... and we were instant best friends. so great. i love mormons.

then there was the mormon encounter at the staten island ferry, which i mentioned in a previous post. and then there was the guy on the metro in DC, on our way home from NY, who was clearly mormon. one word: mesh.

in addition to the mormon-radar, we mormons also have a game called "do you know?" and it is also incredibly fascinating. put two mormons who are total strangers in a room and give them about 20 minutes, and they will walk out with a list of people they know in common. mission companions. college roommates. old boy/girlfriends. they've probably been to the same parties and maybe even dated the same people. i promise you! and THEN give a mormon a blog and they'll quickly discover more connections than you can count.

so... if you're in the mood to sharpen your mormon-radar, here are my top 10 tell-tale signs:

1. CTR rings (more acronyms... CTR stands for choose the right, of course!)
2. married, children, long shorts, sleeves... this combination is a dead give-away
3. wearing more than one layer of clothing in 105 degree weather
4. bright eyes and a perky smile
5. although a rare breed these days... a man still sporting a part in his hair
6. you overhear them ask "do you have caffeine-free diet coke?"
7. virgin cocktails (unless they're pregnant... which could also be a sign)
8. fry-sauce... which is basically just people from utah, but it narrows it down
9. an uncanny need to turn everything in to an acronym
10. horns... ;) JUST kidding... though, i've heard rumors...

happy hunting!

3 years down... eternity to go

2:00 AM on aug 14, 2004, three years ago today, i sat in my great-aunt's bathroom with my girlfriends, trying to figure out what in the world to do with my hair the next morning. we found something that worked, and called it a night. i climbed in to bed with my best friend, jessica, and we chatted until we couldn't keep our eyes open anymore. 16 years of sleepovers, sharing bunkbeds in college, sleeping head-to-toe even in to our 20s... i couldn't have asked for anything more perfect than to have her with me the night before my wedding.

i was up by 5:30, getting showered, doing my make-up, having my hair done, trying really hard to just enjoy the day and not get stressed. trying really hard not to look anyone in the eyes too long and start to get misty eyed and smudge my mascara. a couple hours of preparation, speeding to the temple, going through the step-by-step process of signing documents, showing recommends, putting on the wedding attire, all leading up to the moment we saw each other for the first time right before the ceremony. my heart fluttered.

walking through the doors and seeing everyone we loved in one room was breathtaking. i tried so hard not to cry. our ceremony was perfect. it felt like the man who performed our temple ceremony had been hand-picked by the Lord himself. and i often reflect on his words of advice and counsel.

it's amazing to look back on that day and realize what a leap of faith we were making. we were in love. we were excited to be married. we were best friends and had been developing that friendship for years. we had little understanding of what we were about to embark on, but we held hands and took the plunge together.

everyday since then has been better than the last. not to say that everyday is toasts and wedding cake, but everyday we learn and we grow and we stretch each other a little more. we move a little closer to being "one" the way we know the Lord wants us to be. we make mistakes. we ask forgiveness. we offer forgiveness. we laugh. we have gotten more and more silly and bizarre with each day that passes. we have travelled together, gotten lost in foreign countries together, cried over negative pregnancy tests together. we have fought over the covers, argued over lyrics, disagreed about how to approach certain issues. we have compromised. we have sacrificed. we have been selfish and selfless. we have wrestled and hugged. yelled and spoken kindly. been independent and worked together. been lazy and worked hard. we are still in love. we are still excited to be married. and we are even better friends. we have so many more adventures to look forward to. what an awesome journey we're on together.

i love you monkey. happy anniversary.

what would you do?

so... i have a question. it's a tough one... and you're welcome to make your comments anonymous, because... well... you'll see. but i really want to know what you would do. i'm not going to tell you what i would do (or did)... or at least not yet... but this happened to me TWICE on my drive home to utah (and it's happened to me numerous times throughout my life). so... here's the scenario:

you walk in to the public bathroom. it's a fairly typical gas station / fast food bathroom with two or three stalls, a sink strewn with paper towels, slightly dirty floors, large toilet paper dispensers... the usual. you have your purse slung over your shoulder, and you enter the first stall. you take a seat, take a tinkle, grab for the toilet paper, and... there's no toilet paper. sudden panic hits you as you realize your options are slim to none. you have paper in your purse, on which a map has been printed -- you don't need the map anymore, though PAPER and toilet paper are far from the same thing. you see a few "clean looking" sections of toilet paper hanging out of the "unmentionables trash bin". you see a few "clean looking" sections of toilet paper lying on the floor next to the toilet -- they appear to have come from someone's over-zealous attempt to pull toilet paper off the roll, but ended up with too much in their hand (not sure i will ever understand the logic that encourages someone to just drop it on the floor). you have two other stalls next to you and no one is currently in the bathroom with you, though someone could walk through the door any second and catch you shuffling to the next stall with your pants around your knees. and then there's obviously the option to wait out the "drips"... which all women know, takes a very long time and is almost impossible. AND you still have about 12 hours left to go on a very long roadtrip.

so... think about it... don't tell me "i wouldn't use a public bathroom" or "this is why i always carry toilet paper in my purse"... let's say, you've reached the brink and succumbed to the public bathroom, and there are no other alternatives other than those mentioned above.

what would you do? what have you done? i know you've had this experience!

five more things... well technically 30...

it's been awhile... but i've been tagged by esther. so here goes...

five things i was doing 10 years ago:
1. working my way up the corporate ladder at staples.
2. thinking, dreaming, crying, laughing, fighting... about boys.
3. preparing to leave for college... i thought i'd be going for one semester, maybe two. who knew...
4. sending a boyfriend off to be a missionary.
5. discovering email and instant messenger. so weird.

five songs i know the lyrics to:
1. the theme song to "the fresh prince"
2. ganstas paradise (coolio)
3. come as you are (nirvana)
4. zombie (cranberries)
5. today (smashing pumpkins)
this is not a reflection of my favorite songs, per sa, but simply a reflection of the era in which i grew up. :)

five things i would buy if i were a millionaire:
1. a second car.
2. a modest size home, but with all the furniture and trimmings i covet in the catalogs i currently order to torture myself with.
3. patience... you can buy that right?
4. let's be honest... clothes, clothes, and when that got boring... more clothes.
5. stock. 'cause i'm boring like that.

five things i would never wear again:
1. boxer shorts and baggy jeans. yes, i am female... don't ask.
2. belly shirts, mini skirts, and daisy dukes. not that i ever wore those, Mom. ;)
3. burkenstocks. ok... FAKE burkenstocks. i never had real ones.
4. scrunchies. who decided that looked good?
5. braided belts. i shutter at the thought.

five things i would like to do:
1. travel travel travel. egypt, jerusalem, japan, china, russia, back to greece, more italy, more paris, more more more please.
2. write a book.
3. actually print some digital pictures.
4. go home to canada more often. i miss my family, my friends, the rain, the ocean...
5. finish reading a book. (it does happen... just not very often)

five favorite toys:
1. i have a soft spot for stuffed animals.
2. barbie. alright. i love barbie.
3. can we talk about a toy i HATE for a second... 'cause that would be BRATZ dolls. the person who came up with that idea should be shot.
4. lego
5. i could kill anyone at super mario cart!

five people i tag:
if you're reading this... do it.

who are the people in your neighborhood...

i heart new york. though, it's a little dirty for me and humid and dirty and humid... did i mention dirty? but there's just something about new york you have to love. and it's not their subways. but it is something. i have to say that i enjoyed the people. now, some of the people weren't new yorkers, and "enjoyed" can also mean that i liked to watch them because they were entertaining and weird... but nonetheless, i enjoyed the people:

there was famous tony. he was our bus driver and sang sweet songs marvin-gay-style to the ladies on the bus.

there was lee. he was a fellow passanger on the bus who drives between dc and ny every single week for work and then to be with his family on the weekends. he was the nicest guy and made sure we got where we needed to go in ny... because frankly, we had no clue where we were going.

there was the owner of the italian restaurant who saw us waiting for a table--luggage in hand--and offered his trunk for us to leave our luggage in while we ate. and then said "you don't mind if i sell it on eBay, right?"

then there was the couple making out in the dirty subway. something about making out in a subway where i felt the need to use hand sanitizer every 30 seconds just didn't appeal to me... but they were having fun and we were enjoying laughing about it.

i could write an entire post about earth angel. we got on the subway, and in walks richard simmons' evil twin brother. that or gene simmons... it was hard to tell. dressed in red from head to toe, long puffy dark hair held together at the bottom by a single elastic-band, short frizzy bangs... and did i mention he was holding up a cardboard shield with a red angel and the words "earth angel" painted on it? he yelled at the top of his lungs that he had been sent to earth to deliver a message from Jesus Christ, and that his shield was there to protect him from looking at us lowly mortals. then he yelled something about wanting only women under the age of 29 to follow him; and before i could jump off my bench and join his ministry, he left the subway car. dang it.

then we met kathy, the albanian waitress in the weirdest burger joint / dentist office i've ever been in. so it wasn't really a dentist office... but it was a burger joint that was decorated like a dentist office... and the prices on the menu were the weirdest prices i've ever seen in my life. burger = $6.50 ... but if you want tomato that will be an extra $0.85 and if you want lettuce that's gonna cost you another $0.60... and don't forget about the cheese, that's another $1.50.

we met peter, the british real estate agent while trying to locate the nearest subway entrance. SUPER nice guy. he walked with us for about 4 blocks to take us to the entrance. we talked about real estate, economics, politics... and then he gave us his business card before letting us get on the subway and told us to look him up if we moved to manhattan and needed a real estate agent. but what he didn't know is that we're mormon and melinda was prepared with a pass-along card of her own and invited him to learn more about the LDS church. it was a nice little exchange and he was very impressed with melinda's schpeel. as was i.

speaking of mormons... while standing in line to take the staten island ferry, we located some mormons with our unexplainable mormon-radar. it was a couple, their baby in a stroller and their sister-in-law. maybe it was the white t-shirt under his orange t-shirt... maybe it was the baby in the stroller... maybe it was the twinkle in their eyes... but we threw out the bait that we were from utah, and they exchanged glances and asked what we had all been dying to know: "are you mormon?" how do we do it? i don't get it.

my favorite was the individual we dubbed taylor's boyfriend. he was wearing a bright pink tank top, had beautiful dark skin and was wearing more make-up than i was. he poked our friend taylor in the shoulder while we were standing on the staten island ferry and asked "is that pink or peach?" referring to his shirt... taylor responded "i think it's salmon"... which may or may not have sent the wrong signal.

and last but not least... jean, the bus driver who took us home. who was large and in charge and who didn't stop talking the entire drive home. who almost flew out of his driver's seat everytime the bus bounced. it literally looked like he was in a jolly-jumper and i wanted a video camera so badly.

and that's why i heart new york. that and the cheap knock-off purses for sale on the streets.

the metro in quotations

just when i thought i'd run out of things to blog about... i took the LAST metro home last night...

"we can take the metro. no big deal."
burton and i, as we're leaving the movie theatre and dismissing an offer for a ride home from his brother.

"you should be fine. the last metro leaves Metro Center about 12:15"
the lady working in the booth at the metro entrance. oh... and that's AM... as in we're getting ON the metro after mid-night.

"we better run"
burton, as we're standing at the door of the train waiting to get out, because if we miss the change at metro center, we're sca-rewed.

"YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSS!!!! we MADE it!!!!"
the entertainment for the evening, as he arrived on the metro car.

"she wouldn't give me the pump fist"
same kid, after he'd walked passed everyone in our metro car and given them the "rock" because they were on the train too and had made it, just like him. he was excited. and wearing a bright yellow "west virginia" jersey. and clearly VERY drunk... a really happy drunk.

"18? uh... higher... higher... uh... i'm 25..."
the drunken west virginian after an irish man on my right asked him his age... and started out at 18... i have no idea why. ;)

"i'm from west virginia. come on... give me your best west virginia joke"
the drunken west virginian, taunting some kid from pennsylvania, who turned around and mumbled some joke about his sister.

"what was the joke. i didn't hear it"
the irish-man, asking the drunken west virginian, what the penn state mumbler said.

"he said INcest... like inbreeding... like, as in brother and sister"
spoken very loudly by drunken west virginian. yes... i'm familiar with what inbreeding means... but thank you for clarifying it... in so many ways.

"everyone looks like they're going to the library"
yes... yes we do... why?! because the metro is not a bar and because it's 12:15 in the freaking morning and i am tired and you are loud and everyone is trying really hard to IGNORE you.

"you gonna be ok?"
kind-hearted football player, as he puts his hand on the shoulder of a woman (who was totally zoned-out) sitting across from us, right before exiting the metro car.

"i think i'm gonna move"
another woman sitting right across from us, immediately after zoned-out woman turned her head slightly and puked her guts out on the floor of the metro.

"this metro car is no longer in service. please exit the train."
um... what!? so everyone gets off the train and stands on the platform like idiots. like hundreds of us. does anyone come to tell us what's going on? no... of course not, it's only 1:00 AM... why would we care if another train was coming?

"blah blah blah mumble mumble mumble train blah blah. thank you"
a voice over the loud speaker... oh... did i mention LOUD? who the crap decides the volume on the metro speaker? because i would like to talk to that person and try to understand why clarity has been sacrificed for volume. but apparently it said something about the next train coming, because it showed up a few minutes later and we all got on.

"you doing ok dude?"
uh oh... don't like the sound of that. a chubby white guy, turning to his really big black buddy sitting across the aisle from us, with his head in his hands and bottom lip drooping to his knees. not good. not good at all.

"he really likes to party"
chubby white friend, directed to us... immediately after big black buddy barfed his brains out on the floor of the metro.

"at least he puked where there's already a stain"
brilliant. yet true. and very profound. chubby white friend said what i had been thinking since the first girl puked. there were stains. all over the floor. and since no one is allowed to have food or drink on the metro, one can only assume...

so... the moral of the story is four fold:

(1) we're not in provo anymore.

(2) don't take the last metro train home... even on a thursday night.

(3) "no food or drink" on the metro apparently doesn't pertain to food or drink already consumed.

(4) don't touch ANYthing on the metro. ANYTHING! ever...