I am enjoying receiving emails from strangers. Almost everyone says something self-conscious about being a blog stalker, but I think that blog stalking me just shows refined literary taste.
When I want to stop eating sugar, I usually try to enlist friends in a contest in which whoever goes the longest without eating treats wins a prize. I always pick people that I know I can beat and try to sabatogue them by dropping desserts off at their house from "The Relief Society." Last Wednesday my friend and I decided that whoever ate treats first would have to buy the other person a facial. I knew that I had to win, because I can't really afford that. Luckily, three days later she told me, "My roommates were eating brownies all weekend and I had to fight myself, but it was too hard. I knew that that brownie would cost me $100 when I ate it, but it was worth it."
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Monday, March 12, 2012
Anonymous blog
Hey everyone! Sometimes there are funny things that happen to me that I don't want to share with identifying characteristics attached. Nothing bad, but sometimes I want to tell stories from school or something. If you want the link, write me at missjillnewyork@gmail.com. Don't be ashamed, I already know that most of my readers don't actually know me and I blog stalk Orthodox Jews and Evangelicals.
Friday, March 9, 2012
Reader Roll Call: What Was Your Worst Date?
Everyone knows the 20-year-old who sighs and says, "I'm just so tired of the dating game." My advice to that kid is to get married as soon as possible, before she is trapped at Girl's Night debating, "Widowed or divorced?" or "Closet gay or nonmember?"
I have teens to educate, so everything below is cut and pasted from the original. I don't know who reads this, so I will not share, except to say that once a guy told me that he had only got an A in one class in his entire life. That is a turnoff on the level of white jeans, a thick gold chain, and a scant blond moustache.
1. I had a guy that picked me up, did not have anything planned, drove around Provo hoping the movie theater wouldn't be sold out on a Saturday night (that's like hoping the fat kid won't take the biggest doughnut in the pile (don't know where that analogy came from..haha)), end up going to play pool, he's on the phone with another girl almost the entire time, almost didn't pay for the pool game, then takes me to Taco Time for dinner, asks me if I'm ready to order, when I step up to the counter to order, I look behind me for him to order and HE's GONE, then he reappears, after I pay for my meal, we sit down, he talks on his phone with a guy that can see us through the window, my date asks me what my name is so he can tell his friend who he's with (how can he not know my name???), then he starts whispering in Spanish (thinking I can't hear or understand him) making plans to go play video games after the date. He pulls up to my apartment and is going to let me walk to the door myself. I insist that he walk me to the door so that it delays his video gaming...WORSE DATE EVER!!!!!!!!!!!! Sorry, that wasn't so short....I'm sure you can sum it up better.
2. I spent a summer semester at BYU Hawaii with my BFF. She was a dater; I was anti. Yin and yang.
She signed up to be matched on a blind date with a ward member, casting her name with the caption "I am really pretty and really funny" into a shoebox. I would have sooner sliced off my own ear and put it in that box than my name.
She was paired with a nice guy who, unfortunately, had a girlfriend. Why a person in his condition joined in the blind date fun is beyond me. Some folks are really committed to dating. Anyway, my roomie went on a geology field trip the weekend of the scheduled date and rather than reschedule, begged me to go in her stead. As her date had a boyfriend, he set me up with his unusually homely and unbelievably awkward friend whose name I'm not sure I ever knew; I called him The Lummox ever after.
All night people teased us and kept making comments about how we were meant to be based on our shared love of So I Married an Axe Murderer.
I think this is the only date I ever went on in my whole life. Thankfully, I am living proof that dating is not prerequisite to marrying. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
3. I had a guy from BYU tell me that I "wasn't the one" after 2 dates (which were on the same weekend).
4. I met this guy off myspace (sketchy already) who went to UVSC. He and I met at the movie theater and probably exchanged 10 words before going to see some awful action flick. Since I had literally JUST met him minutes before I was super turned off when he leaned over and grabbed my hand. Whatever. I can handle hand holding. Then he proceeded to force my head on his shoulder. When I refused, he put his hands on my face to move my face to try and kiss me. We're talking I wasn't moving and he was using force here people. I got up and walked out. AFTER the movie he called me to ream me out about how I was so rude.
4. Oh man, I wish I had a good one. Best I can do is, I think I might have been someone's worst first date when I remarked thoughtfully (meaning no offense whatsoever) that he kind of looked like he could play a villain in a movie-- a villain doctor, more specifically. What, that's a bad thing?
5. I got asked to a girls' choice dance in high school by a girl I didn't know very well. We were in a group with four other people, and I didn't know them either. We went horseback riding (high school dances in Utah generally turn into all-day, multi-event super dates--I'm sure Miss Jill knows this, but some of her readers may not), which was all right, but when we were finished my date's van wouldn't start. One of the guys in the group tried tinkering with things for about 45 minutes, until someone finally noticed that the van had been left in Drive when the engine was shut off.
We hit up Wendy's for dinner (I would love it if a girl took me to Wendy's now, but I was more stuck up then, I guess), then hit up the dance. Later on we went to one of the girls' houses to watch a movie. Our choices were Jaws and Children of the Corn. About 15 minutes into Jaws, me and one of the other guys fell asleep. The girls decided it was time to take us home. My date walked me to the door and leaned in for a kiss. I didn't reciprocate, so she kissed me on the cheek--my first kiss!
6. Started out evening dreading to go on the date and should have said no. We played a riddle game but he got mad and put it away halfway through because I was solving more riddles than him. Then we went to a comedy show where they made fun of girl missionaries (date knew that I was turning in my application to be a missionary in a month) and he turned and laughed loudly in my face and said, "That one hurt didn't it?" Nothing to talk about all night. When he dropped me off I told him that he didn't have to walk me up to my door, in what I thought was a diplomatic tone, he yelled at me, "Sheesh! What did I ever do to you?!?!" before peeling out of my parking lot. Had a class with the kid so I still had to see him twice a week, which became even more awkward when I started dating a different guy from the class.
7. Guy asked me out, clearly thinking I was younger than I was (I was 25 at the time, he was 35). All night he made references to how I hated Chinese people because I had said that I preferred not to eat Chinese food. Example: "I know why you don't want to eat the chips, Chips, Chinese, they both start with ch." and "Do you need me to go look in the kitchen to make sure that there aren't any Chinese people making your food?" He asked me how much I had in my savings account, when I changed the subject, he returned to it and asked again, he did not get an answer. We waited outside to be seated at the restaurant where a plague of crickets was swarming. I am deathly afraid of crickets, which I told him, he was unmoved. When one flew at my face and landed on me I screamed like the girl in the Psycho shower scene and he laughed. He still didn't want to go in, probably hoping for a repeat performance, but I told him I was going inside with or without him. He made fun of me all night for pretty much everything and when he wasn't making fun of me there was no conversation. I think something else bad happened but I must have repressed the memory. Afterward he told a mutual friend that he thought the date had gone really well and was going to ask me out again. I responded that he shouldn't bother so then he moved on to my roommate who was 3 years younger.
8. I'd gone out maybe twice with this one guy I met via eHarmony, but we did lots of gchatting and texting. It randomly turned out that he'd met a friend of mine through match.com, but they never went out. Anyway, I'm at dinner with that friend, and another girl, and she decides to call up the dude to come meet us for dinner, because we are right by his house, and she thought it would be really funny since he hadn't called me since the last time we'd gone out, or something to that effect, I don't exactly remember.
Anyway, he shows up, and awkwardly says hello to me, ignores the two other girls, and sits at our table. We all just stare at each other for a few seconds, and then us 3 girls resume our conversation because we didn't know what else to do.
The dude sat there for about 3 minutes, and then stands up and says, I think I should leave, and walks out the door.
Needless to say, later that evening while on the phone with him, I told him we didn't need to see each other again after he said, "bitches be crazy" in response to something I'd said.
He got married 4 months later, and now has a kid. He tries to gchat approximately once every 3 months.
9. It was my first [and last] date with this guy, who showed up 45 minutes late, and then over dinner he interrogated me with questions like:
-Where do you want to settle down?
-How many children do you want?
-You want to be a stay-at-home-mother, right?
He also brought up politics! We spent way too much time discussing abortion.
10. He hocked a loogie out the window on our date. When I complained to my friends, another girl said he had done it on a date with her, too.
Gary the tickler. I'll just leave it to your imagination.
11. As a NYC dater over the last decade I have had many great bad dates. Today I'll offer up, Jack. I'd been dating JTR for about a month. We'd met at a Halloween party where I was dressed as the queen of hearts and he was decked to the 10/6 as the mad hatter. We'd kissed on a couch, danced to Prince's '1999' and shared a gluten free brownie. In a word, his first impression was flawless. We'd had a whirlwind few weeks before he offered to come over and cook me dinner. Oh yeah, it was on. He showed up with a ton of organic delicious groceries. We'd sliced and diced the haul together laughing while Weezer played in the background. He put some pasta in to boil and then we got distracted the way you can get distracted when someone attractive comes over to cook for you. We cuddled on the couch and let things on the stove go, well, to pot. Suddenly, Jack jumped up and ran to the speghetti that was now the perfect consistancy for paper mache. He stirred it twice with a long handled wooden soon, turned to me (I was mid giggle) and flipped the 'eff out. "LOOK!," he growled! "EVERYTHING is RUINED!". He turned the (still totally fine) sauteed veggies in the homemade sauce. "YOU DISTRACTED ME and NOW everything is HORRIBLE". I sat up straight on the couch. "Jack, I'm sure it's fine. We'll just make more pasta." He wailed that the pasta he had brought was specifically designed to meet the high standards of this particular sauce. I half laughed. I was still focused on saving the meal, I hadn't yet realized there was no saving this relationship. He cursed and threw the sauce covered spoon in to the air, where it left a nearly impossible to scrub-out stain in the shape of a Rorschach lion on the ceiling (my roommate later said it was more of a camel). I recovered from where I'd crouched near the table and slowly edged him up against the fridge. I cautiously took the spoon out of his right hand under the guise of entwining his fingers in mine. Luckily my dad had me watch every film Bruce Willis ever made while I was growning up and I was somewhat preparred for this. "Jack, what's really wrong?" I was sure my inquiry would be met with the admission of a recently lost job, newly deceased pet, or a barely missed sale at Barneys. There had to be some deeper explaination. "WHAT is WRONG, is that I WAS TRYING TO MAKE YOU SOMETHING NICE AND YOU RUINED IT." He wiggled from where I'd pinned him and stormed in to my bedroom where I later found him sprawled face down against the pillows. I glanced at my cell and considered calling my brute squad. Someone was going to have to get this wacko out of my house. One broken spatula, two pineapple popsicles, two attempts to coax the mad hatter down the stairs, and three cautious half-hearted kisses later, I deposited Jack on my front stoop. He called for a few weeks afterward our date, leaving upbeat messages on my phone, "I'm confused why you're avoiding me! We've been having so much fun! I hope you call!", And that's why I love NYC - You never know who you're going to meet.
I have teens to educate, so everything below is cut and pasted from the original. I don't know who reads this, so I will not share, except to say that once a guy told me that he had only got an A in one class in his entire life. That is a turnoff on the level of white jeans, a thick gold chain, and a scant blond moustache.
1. I had a guy that picked me up, did not have anything planned, drove around Provo hoping the movie theater wouldn't be sold out on a Saturday night (that's like hoping the fat kid won't take the biggest doughnut in the pile (don't know where that analogy came from..haha)), end up going to play pool, he's on the phone with another girl almost the entire time, almost didn't pay for the pool game, then takes me to Taco Time for dinner, asks me if I'm ready to order, when I step up to the counter to order, I look behind me for him to order and HE's GONE, then he reappears, after I pay for my meal, we sit down, he talks on his phone with a guy that can see us through the window, my date asks me what my name is so he can tell his friend who he's with (how can he not know my name???), then he starts whispering in Spanish (thinking I can't hear or understand him) making plans to go play video games after the date. He pulls up to my apartment and is going to let me walk to the door myself. I insist that he walk me to the door so that it delays his video gaming...WORSE DATE EVER!!!!!!!!!!!! Sorry, that wasn't so short....I'm sure you can sum it up better.
2. I spent a summer semester at BYU Hawaii with my BFF. She was a dater; I was anti. Yin and yang.
She signed up to be matched on a blind date with a ward member, casting her name with the caption "I am really pretty and really funny" into a shoebox. I would have sooner sliced off my own ear and put it in that box than my name.
She was paired with a nice guy who, unfortunately, had a girlfriend. Why a person in his condition joined in the blind date fun is beyond me. Some folks are really committed to dating. Anyway, my roomie went on a geology field trip the weekend of the scheduled date and rather than reschedule, begged me to go in her stead. As her date had a boyfriend, he set me up with his unusually homely and unbelievably awkward friend whose name I'm not sure I ever knew; I called him The Lummox ever after.
All night people teased us and kept making comments about how we were meant to be based on our shared love of So I Married an Axe Murderer.
I think this is the only date I ever went on in my whole life. Thankfully, I am living proof that dating is not prerequisite to marrying. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
3. I had a guy from BYU tell me that I "wasn't the one" after 2 dates (which were on the same weekend).
4. I met this guy off myspace (sketchy already) who went to UVSC. He and I met at the movie theater and probably exchanged 10 words before going to see some awful action flick. Since I had literally JUST met him minutes before I was super turned off when he leaned over and grabbed my hand. Whatever. I can handle hand holding. Then he proceeded to force my head on his shoulder. When I refused, he put his hands on my face to move my face to try and kiss me. We're talking I wasn't moving and he was using force here people. I got up and walked out. AFTER the movie he called me to ream me out about how I was so rude.
4. Oh man, I wish I had a good one. Best I can do is, I think I might have been someone's worst first date when I remarked thoughtfully (meaning no offense whatsoever) that he kind of looked like he could play a villain in a movie-- a villain doctor, more specifically. What, that's a bad thing?
5. I got asked to a girls' choice dance in high school by a girl I didn't know very well. We were in a group with four other people, and I didn't know them either. We went horseback riding (high school dances in Utah generally turn into all-day, multi-event super dates--I'm sure Miss Jill knows this, but some of her readers may not), which was all right, but when we were finished my date's van wouldn't start. One of the guys in the group tried tinkering with things for about 45 minutes, until someone finally noticed that the van had been left in Drive when the engine was shut off.
We hit up Wendy's for dinner (I would love it if a girl took me to Wendy's now, but I was more stuck up then, I guess), then hit up the dance. Later on we went to one of the girls' houses to watch a movie. Our choices were Jaws and Children of the Corn. About 15 minutes into Jaws, me and one of the other guys fell asleep. The girls decided it was time to take us home. My date walked me to the door and leaned in for a kiss. I didn't reciprocate, so she kissed me on the cheek--my first kiss!
6. Started out evening dreading to go on the date and should have said no. We played a riddle game but he got mad and put it away halfway through because I was solving more riddles than him. Then we went to a comedy show where they made fun of girl missionaries (date knew that I was turning in my application to be a missionary in a month) and he turned and laughed loudly in my face and said, "That one hurt didn't it?" Nothing to talk about all night. When he dropped me off I told him that he didn't have to walk me up to my door, in what I thought was a diplomatic tone, he yelled at me, "Sheesh! What did I ever do to you?!?!" before peeling out of my parking lot. Had a class with the kid so I still had to see him twice a week, which became even more awkward when I started dating a different guy from the class.
7. Guy asked me out, clearly thinking I was younger than I was (I was 25 at the time, he was 35). All night he made references to how I hated Chinese people because I had said that I preferred not to eat Chinese food. Example: "I know why you don't want to eat the chips, Chips, Chinese, they both start with ch." and "Do you need me to go look in the kitchen to make sure that there aren't any Chinese people making your food?" He asked me how much I had in my savings account, when I changed the subject, he returned to it and asked again, he did not get an answer. We waited outside to be seated at the restaurant where a plague of crickets was swarming. I am deathly afraid of crickets, which I told him, he was unmoved. When one flew at my face and landed on me I screamed like the girl in the Psycho shower scene and he laughed. He still didn't want to go in, probably hoping for a repeat performance, but I told him I was going inside with or without him. He made fun of me all night for pretty much everything and when he wasn't making fun of me there was no conversation. I think something else bad happened but I must have repressed the memory. Afterward he told a mutual friend that he thought the date had gone really well and was going to ask me out again. I responded that he shouldn't bother so then he moved on to my roommate who was 3 years younger.
8. I'd gone out maybe twice with this one guy I met via eHarmony, but we did lots of gchatting and texting. It randomly turned out that he'd met a friend of mine through match.com, but they never went out. Anyway, I'm at dinner with that friend, and another girl, and she decides to call up the dude to come meet us for dinner, because we are right by his house, and she thought it would be really funny since he hadn't called me since the last time we'd gone out, or something to that effect, I don't exactly remember.
Anyway, he shows up, and awkwardly says hello to me, ignores the two other girls, and sits at our table. We all just stare at each other for a few seconds, and then us 3 girls resume our conversation because we didn't know what else to do.
The dude sat there for about 3 minutes, and then stands up and says, I think I should leave, and walks out the door.
Needless to say, later that evening while on the phone with him, I told him we didn't need to see each other again after he said, "bitches be crazy" in response to something I'd said.
He got married 4 months later, and now has a kid. He tries to gchat approximately once every 3 months.
9. It was my first [and last] date with this guy, who showed up 45 minutes late, and then over dinner he interrogated me with questions like:
-Where do you want to settle down?
-How many children do you want?
-You want to be a stay-at-home-mother, right?
He also brought up politics! We spent way too much time discussing abortion.
10. He hocked a loogie out the window on our date. When I complained to my friends, another girl said he had done it on a date with her, too.
Gary the tickler. I'll just leave it to your imagination.
11. As a NYC dater over the last decade I have had many great bad dates. Today I'll offer up, Jack. I'd been dating JTR for about a month. We'd met at a Halloween party where I was dressed as the queen of hearts and he was decked to the 10/6 as the mad hatter. We'd kissed on a couch, danced to Prince's '1999' and shared a gluten free brownie. In a word, his first impression was flawless. We'd had a whirlwind few weeks before he offered to come over and cook me dinner. Oh yeah, it was on. He showed up with a ton of organic delicious groceries. We'd sliced and diced the haul together laughing while Weezer played in the background. He put some pasta in to boil and then we got distracted the way you can get distracted when someone attractive comes over to cook for you. We cuddled on the couch and let things on the stove go, well, to pot. Suddenly, Jack jumped up and ran to the speghetti that was now the perfect consistancy for paper mache. He stirred it twice with a long handled wooden soon, turned to me (I was mid giggle) and flipped the 'eff out. "LOOK!," he growled! "EVERYTHING is RUINED!". He turned the (still totally fine) sauteed veggies in the homemade sauce. "YOU DISTRACTED ME and NOW everything is HORRIBLE". I sat up straight on the couch. "Jack, I'm sure it's fine. We'll just make more pasta." He wailed that the pasta he had brought was specifically designed to meet the high standards of this particular sauce. I half laughed. I was still focused on saving the meal, I hadn't yet realized there was no saving this relationship. He cursed and threw the sauce covered spoon in to the air, where it left a nearly impossible to scrub-out stain in the shape of a Rorschach lion on the ceiling (my roommate later said it was more of a camel). I recovered from where I'd crouched near the table and slowly edged him up against the fridge. I cautiously took the spoon out of his right hand under the guise of entwining his fingers in mine. Luckily my dad had me watch every film Bruce Willis ever made while I was growning up and I was somewhat preparred for this. "Jack, what's really wrong?" I was sure my inquiry would be met with the admission of a recently lost job, newly deceased pet, or a barely missed sale at Barneys. There had to be some deeper explaination. "WHAT is WRONG, is that I WAS TRYING TO MAKE YOU SOMETHING NICE AND YOU RUINED IT." He wiggled from where I'd pinned him and stormed in to my bedroom where I later found him sprawled face down against the pillows. I glanced at my cell and considered calling my brute squad. Someone was going to have to get this wacko out of my house. One broken spatula, two pineapple popsicles, two attempts to coax the mad hatter down the stairs, and three cautious half-hearted kisses later, I deposited Jack on my front stoop. He called for a few weeks afterward our date, leaving upbeat messages on my phone, "I'm confused why you're avoiding me! We've been having so much fun! I hope you call!", And that's why I love NYC - You never know who you're going to meet.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Mark Zuckerberg, Let My People Go: The Ten Plagues of the Facebook World
1. People who have to wear a carpal tunnel wristband from indiscriminately liking so many statuses. If your former classmate changed her status to "Engaged to Kim Jong Un," she would quickly receive more than one hundred likes.
2. Joint Facebook accounts when the people involved are not middle aged, i.e., "AmmonandKay-leeSmith." If your spouse can't be trusted to remain faithful when faced with the forbidden fruit of his/her aging high school classmates, you probably should just agree to having an open marriage.
3. Undershare statuses (opposite of TMI). For example: You see that your friend has checked in on Four Square at "The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints" on a random weeknight. An hour later, he changes his status to "Glad that I got that off my chest!"
4. The cousin of undershare statuses: cryptic comment bait. Some examples might be, "Ten more days." or "Today my world crashed down on me after the news."
5. This doesn't seem to happen as much anymore, but when you get invited to a wedding group called "Send us your addresses!" In the subsequent weeks, you constantly receive notifications with the addresses of hundreds of well wishers.
6. People who post pictures of themselves eating cookies and playing Settlers of Catan with the caption, "Don't you wish you had my life, lol?" I never even remotely want anyone else's life, lol.
7. Posting a letter to an inanimate object: "Dear Traffic, I hope you @#$!% ^!@#$@ ^!@#$@#. Love, Suzy."
8. Pictures of a white person surrounded by children they talked to for five minutes in a developing country. Sorry, half of my friends.
9. This one is from my new teen roommate (sorry girl, everyone under 25 is a teen), People who still have a wedding photo as their profile pic and they have been married long enough to have three children.
10. Ok, if you read regularly you already know my feelings on constantly reposted conference talks and religious messages. Old people get a pass on this one too. Today I will mention political firestorm messages like, "Shame on you, activist judges; California's destruction is nigh!!!!" or "10,000 Strong in the Eradication of Gender Pronouns."
My favorite Facebook status of all time was, "In the Emergency Room after being dropped in the trust fall" and then subsequently, "Go to h everyone who liked this!"
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
A Courageous Story of Natural Birth Against All Odds
First, thanks for all of the e-mails and texts asking me to pray for you. At this time, my prayer list is filled to capacity. If you are under thirty, you are low priority.
Background: I did not go to the classiest high school. I would like you to note that every time you entered the bathroom, you were engulfed by a giant cloud of cigarette smoke.
The following is from a Chicago newspaper: The Daily Herald
Headline: Streamwood High student gives birth to baby boy in school bathroom
A student delivered a baby boy Tuesday morning in a third-floor bathroom at Streamwood High School, officials said.
The mother and her newborn were said to be doing well and resting at St. Alexius Medical Center in Hoffman Estates, but officials wouldn’t release other details due to confidentiality laws.
Streamwood police Officer Steve Kisch, who is assigned to the school at 701 W. Schaumburg Road, called the village’s fire department at 9:45 a.m. when he was made aware of the situation, Streamwood Deputy Police Chief Jim Gremo said.
Meanwhile, an announcement was made telling students to stay in their classrooms as part of a medical lockdown, which aims to keep the hallways clear so medical personnel can work unimpeded, Elgin Area District U-46 Safety Coordinator John Heiderscheidt said.
“Paramedics came in, took care of her and the baby and got them out swiftly and without interruption,” Heiderscheidt said.
Students were slightly delayed getting to their third-period classes, said Heiderscheidt, who’s never heard of a student giving birth at a U-46 school since he joined the district in 2006.
“I’d say this is pretty rare,” he said.
Gremo said that there weren’t any suspicious circumstances surrounding the birth and that police aren’t investigating it.
Background: I did not go to the classiest high school. I would like you to note that every time you entered the bathroom, you were engulfed by a giant cloud of cigarette smoke.
The following is from a Chicago newspaper: The Daily Herald
Headline: Streamwood High student gives birth to baby boy in school bathroom
A student delivered a baby boy Tuesday morning in a third-floor bathroom at Streamwood High School, officials said.
The mother and her newborn were said to be doing well and resting at St. Alexius Medical Center in Hoffman Estates, but officials wouldn’t release other details due to confidentiality laws.
Streamwood police Officer Steve Kisch, who is assigned to the school at 701 W. Schaumburg Road, called the village’s fire department at 9:45 a.m. when he was made aware of the situation, Streamwood Deputy Police Chief Jim Gremo said.
Meanwhile, an announcement was made telling students to stay in their classrooms as part of a medical lockdown, which aims to keep the hallways clear so medical personnel can work unimpeded, Elgin Area District U-46 Safety Coordinator John Heiderscheidt said.
“Paramedics came in, took care of her and the baby and got them out swiftly and without interruption,” Heiderscheidt said.
Students were slightly delayed getting to their third-period classes, said Heiderscheidt, who’s never heard of a student giving birth at a U-46 school since he joined the district in 2006.
“I’d say this is pretty rare,” he said.
Gremo said that there weren’t any suspicious circumstances surrounding the birth and that police aren’t investigating it.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Please Bless the Desperate Girls to Get Married
When I was at BYU, I became concerned about a beloved friend who was 25, single and desperate. I thought that being single at 25 was such a lamentable fate that I started praying for her to get married constantly. For example, if we went on a road trip and decided to pray first, I would volunteer and then pray for this girl to get married. She started dating her husband a few months later.
Fast forward ten years to my friend's 30th birthday party. She stared sadly into the distance and said, "On my 31st birthday, we are breaking out the Vodka." She was my religious leader at the time, so I knew that straits were dire. I knew what to do, i.e. "Please bless the food and for 'Sandy' to get married." Maybe she was embarrassed when I kept doing it in public, but she got engaged this weekend.
We are at the point that I can't really narrow it down to one person, so I have just started saying, "Bless all of my desperate friends to get married." Maybe it isn't easy to admit that you are included in my plea, but do you really want to take that chance?
Fast forward ten years to my friend's 30th birthday party. She stared sadly into the distance and said, "On my 31st birthday, we are breaking out the Vodka." She was my religious leader at the time, so I knew that straits were dire. I knew what to do, i.e. "Please bless the food and for 'Sandy' to get married." Maybe she was embarrassed when I kept doing it in public, but she got engaged this weekend.
We are at the point that I can't really narrow it down to one person, so I have just started saying, "Bless all of my desperate friends to get married." Maybe it isn't easy to admit that you are included in my plea, but do you really want to take that chance?
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
Guilty Pleasures
First, an update on the Israelis. As a swarthy man dabbed Dead Sea cream on my hand at the mall today, I confessed, "I wrote a blog about you," and walked away before he understood. Then, I briefly forgot where I parked and had to do a few laps to figure it out. The same man offered me moisturizer four times. The last time, I unfortunately started laughing in his face and he yelled, "Why you laughing?"
Ok, for this blog, I asked people to tell me their guilty pleasures. Mine are definitely gchat and reading weird blogs about religion and social issues. If I am not on gchat during the day, I usually receive a few emails about my absence. I also enjoy picking off my sunburn skin flakes. What bliss!
Now, for my friends:
1. Lingerie... even before I was married. I like sitting around the house and cleaning in it.
2. Dancing naked in front of the mirror, because it is hilarious.
3. My guilty pleasure was so bad it only lasted one season. It was a Hulu-only reality show called "If I Can Dream." It was not even trashy in a good way, it was actively boring, but I kept watching because I absoltely hate not having resolution & I wanted to see if any of them made it to stardom. Answer: No.
4. Hostess cupcakes. Sigh. I used to buy them from the vending machines at BYU. I would try to look really bored as I put my change in the slot, a very "I am totally buying this for someone else" kind of look. I don't know what that face looks like, but I made a serious effort. Then I would go down the hall into a quiet corner and eat them. Succulent goodness. I was busted when, one year, my friends threw me an Iron Chef party. The surprise ingredient? A Hostess cupcake. The winning team made a giant cake that looked like a Hostess cupcake. When you cut into it, there was the real Hostess cupcake inside. A perfect combination of my guilty pleasure and my favorite word, meta. They won hands down.
5. Guilt is optional. That is my motto. If guilt weren't optional I would say fabric shopping which is unpublishably boring anyway. Ed. note: Nope
6. Looking at pictures of myself on FB or anywhere pics of myself are stored. I used to hide this guilty pleasure from people. Now I own it! Ed. note: I have known this person for ten years and do not recall this ever being hidden. Said respondent had an entire wall of photos of herself in the living room of a BYU apartment.
7. I like the frozen cheeseburger you can get in those Hungry Man Dinners. I wrap it in a paper towel, nuke it in the microwave, and enjoy the heck out of it.
8. This is a tricky one for me, because the things that I'm into that most people would label "guilty pleasures" I feel absolutely no shame about. This includes everything from ABBA to pro wrestling to the fact that Denny's is my favorite restaurant.
Ooh, I just remembered one: near the end of my Mormon mission, a Haagen Dazs ad came in the junk mail. It was a promotional tie-in with the "Bridget Jones Diary" movie, and the ad showed Renee Zellweger as the title character leaning over and showing a moderate amount of cleavage. I kept the ad on a table in the corner of our flat for over a month, looking at it for a few seconds most nights before going to bed. Missionaries are strange.
One current thing that might qualify is Celebrity Apprentice, which started its new season last night. I know it's an awful show, and the only reason I watch it is to see Ivanka Trump. She's pretty much the perfect woman. I think she was created in a lab.
9. All one person:
I'm not above admiring my naked body in the mirror
Mint Chocolate Chunk Ice cream (a direct violation with previous guilty pleasure)
Watching 'Strictly Ballroom' on loop
Any Movie at the IFC -- a solitary activity which I refuse to include anyone in
Telling my mother a "secret" that I request she not tell my brother, and then betting money with him about how long it will take her to divulge that information
Drawing people on the train, but as they would look in their underwear
Sabon's Lemon Mint Body Scrub
Anything serial and from the 90s, Felicity, The Baby Sitters Club, etc.
Boys with curly brown hair and blue eyes
Speaking in a British accent for hours with my roommate
Pinterest
Baking elaborate things with a million ingredients
Yellow flowers (which I often buy for myself)
Words with Friends
Theme parties
Restaurants that I read about in New York magazine -- which I must go to
Ok, for this blog, I asked people to tell me their guilty pleasures. Mine are definitely gchat and reading weird blogs about religion and social issues. If I am not on gchat during the day, I usually receive a few emails about my absence. I also enjoy picking off my sunburn skin flakes. What bliss!
Now, for my friends:
1. Lingerie... even before I was married. I like sitting around the house and cleaning in it.
2. Dancing naked in front of the mirror, because it is hilarious.
3. My guilty pleasure was so bad it only lasted one season. It was a Hulu-only reality show called "If I Can Dream." It was not even trashy in a good way, it was actively boring, but I kept watching because I absoltely hate not having resolution & I wanted to see if any of them made it to stardom. Answer: No.
4. Hostess cupcakes. Sigh. I used to buy them from the vending machines at BYU. I would try to look really bored as I put my change in the slot, a very "I am totally buying this for someone else" kind of look. I don't know what that face looks like, but I made a serious effort. Then I would go down the hall into a quiet corner and eat them. Succulent goodness. I was busted when, one year, my friends threw me an Iron Chef party. The surprise ingredient? A Hostess cupcake. The winning team made a giant cake that looked like a Hostess cupcake. When you cut into it, there was the real Hostess cupcake inside. A perfect combination of my guilty pleasure and my favorite word, meta. They won hands down.
5. Guilt is optional. That is my motto. If guilt weren't optional I would say fabric shopping which is unpublishably boring anyway. Ed. note: Nope
6. Looking at pictures of myself on FB or anywhere pics of myself are stored. I used to hide this guilty pleasure from people. Now I own it! Ed. note: I have known this person for ten years and do not recall this ever being hidden. Said respondent had an entire wall of photos of herself in the living room of a BYU apartment.
7. I like the frozen cheeseburger you can get in those Hungry Man Dinners. I wrap it in a paper towel, nuke it in the microwave, and enjoy the heck out of it.
8. This is a tricky one for me, because the things that I'm into that most people would label "guilty pleasures" I feel absolutely no shame about. This includes everything from ABBA to pro wrestling to the fact that Denny's is my favorite restaurant.
Ooh, I just remembered one: near the end of my Mormon mission, a Haagen Dazs ad came in the junk mail. It was a promotional tie-in with the "Bridget Jones Diary" movie, and the ad showed Renee Zellweger as the title character leaning over and showing a moderate amount of cleavage. I kept the ad on a table in the corner of our flat for over a month, looking at it for a few seconds most nights before going to bed. Missionaries are strange.
One current thing that might qualify is Celebrity Apprentice, which started its new season last night. I know it's an awful show, and the only reason I watch it is to see Ivanka Trump. She's pretty much the perfect woman. I think she was created in a lab.
9. All one person:
I'm not above admiring my naked body in the mirror
Mint Chocolate Chunk Ice cream (a direct violation with previous guilty pleasure)
Watching 'Strictly Ballroom' on loop
Any Movie at the IFC -- a solitary activity which I refuse to include anyone in
Telling my mother a "secret" that I request she not tell my brother, and then betting money with him about how long it will take her to divulge that information
Drawing people on the train, but as they would look in their underwear
Sabon's Lemon Mint Body Scrub
Anything serial and from the 90s, Felicity, The Baby Sitters Club, etc.
Boys with curly brown hair and blue eyes
Speaking in a British accent for hours with my roommate
Baking elaborate things with a million ingredients
Yellow flowers (which I often buy for myself)
Words with Friends
Theme parties
Restaurants that I read about in New York magazine -- which I must go to
Sunday, February 19, 2012
In Which I Buy a Weave From the Mossad
I didn't really want to admit to the following story, but I don't actually know most of you, so here goes.
When I lived in South Brooklyn, I often found myself surrounded by Orthodox Jews. Jewish law requires married women to cover their hair and many ladies accomplish that by wearing wigs that are much thicker and more beautiful than most people's natural hair. Once you know what to look for (jean skirt with a black shirt) it is really obvious, but they still look really good and I was jealous.
Those days are over. About a month ago I went to the mall and as I was coming out of J. Crew, a woman with a heavy accent accosted me and said, "Let me try something on your hair." I had to kill time before meeting a friend, so I sat down at her kiosk. Fifteen minutes later, I was magically wearing a headfull of perfectly curled, clip-on hair extensions. It was a masterpiece and I was speechless. I left that day with 10 lbs of fake hair attached to my head and a complimentary curling iron. I can't blame the girl's salemanship-my thin hair makes me vulnerable.
One of the perks of buying fake hair is that you can return to the kiosk whenever you want and they will style it for you. I went back a week later and was surprised to see that a man was the stylist. He had a very heavy accent that was nearly undecipherable and said, "You never think man do your hair in mall, right?" Accurate. Every time that I couldn't understand him, he said, "You like my sexy accent?" If someone who appeared to be a Spanish speaker walked by, he yelled, "Te gusta el pelo colocho?" If a black woman walked by, he evoked Joey Tribbiani and asked, "How you doin'?" But let me tell you, he was a Michelangelo with a curling iron.
Further conversation revealed that he was an Israeli, as was his coworker. Her English was better and she informed me that she had graduated from the M.I.T. of Israel, but enjoyed the stress-free lifestyle of styling weaves.
I know that I'm not the only person who has had a run-in with an Israeli kiosk worker. My mom said that the Dead Sea lotion left her hands silky for days.
Further investigation unearthed this little gem from the U.S. State Department. It warns Israelis about coming to the U.S. and illegally working at mall kiosks. I had no idea that it was so pervasive.
Tales of Cursed Cumpleaños
When I asked my friends to tell me about their worst birthdays, only a few had material for me. I am very happy that all of your birthdays are so great.
1. My birthday is September 12th. So my birthday in 2001 was a pretty big downer. No one was really thinking of wishing me happy birthday.
2. I had a big house party for my 16th birthday. A couple of my idiot guy friends pressed moons on our deck windows, and my dad got so mad that he threw everyone out at 10 pm before Nikki and I could even blow out our candles (it was a joint birthday party.) As a teenager this was extremely embarrassing...and he ruined BOTH of our birthdays, which was just unacceptable.
3. On my 18th birthday, I had just started as a freshman at BYU so I only had a few friends. They tried to plan a birthday party for me during visiting hours (when guys are allowed to come to your dorm room), except only one person showed up, this guy with a disfiguring facial scar. We barely knew each other so it was awkward and he left as soon as he could. Then, my family forgot to call me. I called them and yelled, "hey, guess what day it is today, it's my birthday!" They tried to make up some lame excuse that they were planning to call me but since it was pretty late, I had my doubts.
4. I met this guy at a work conference and he asked me out. It happened to be my birthday. Against better judgment I went, and we really hit it off. After a lovely evening together we made out for a while and said goodnight with plans to meet the next day at lunch. At lunch, he said he had something to tell me. He was married, but we had such a magical evening, could we still date each other? I said, "no thanks" and he said, "I'm surprised, I thought you would be okay with it". Not so romantic a birthday after all.
5. We had just celebrated my birthday at a pizza place and my two friends and I were driving back to the UNLV campus. I was dropping off my friend at his car; he had just injured his ankle pretty badly, so my best friend was going to have to drive him home. On the way, a car came pulled out of the gas station, and hit us! Then he pulled into the parking lot across the street. I followed him, assuming that this is where we'd exchange information, etc. And then he sped off!! I wasn't going to let this guy get away from me. I followed him. A car chase ensued. Red lights were run, the speed limit laws were broken. He drove into an apartment complex parking lot, where I lost him. I was really upset that we didn't catch him.
Then we started to think- what would actually have happened if we caught this guy? What were we going to do? Two 20 year old college-girls, and one boy with a bum ankle. It was ridiculous. We went back to the gas station to see if they had any security camera's that had this vehicles details (they didn't release anything to us). There were two motorcycle cops there, so we told them our situation, and we were able to file a police report. Then we took pictures with them because it was, after all, still my birthday!
1. My birthday is September 12th. So my birthday in 2001 was a pretty big downer. No one was really thinking of wishing me happy birthday.
2. I had a big house party for my 16th birthday. A couple of my idiot guy friends pressed moons on our deck windows, and my dad got so mad that he threw everyone out at 10 pm before Nikki and I could even blow out our candles (it was a joint birthday party.) As a teenager this was extremely embarrassing...and he ruined BOTH of our birthdays, which was just unacceptable.
3. On my 18th birthday, I had just started as a freshman at BYU so I only had a few friends. They tried to plan a birthday party for me during visiting hours (when guys are allowed to come to your dorm room), except only one person showed up, this guy with a disfiguring facial scar. We barely knew each other so it was awkward and he left as soon as he could. Then, my family forgot to call me. I called them and yelled, "hey, guess what day it is today, it's my birthday!" They tried to make up some lame excuse that they were planning to call me but since it was pretty late, I had my doubts.
4. I met this guy at a work conference and he asked me out. It happened to be my birthday. Against better judgment I went, and we really hit it off. After a lovely evening together we made out for a while and said goodnight with plans to meet the next day at lunch. At lunch, he said he had something to tell me. He was married, but we had such a magical evening, could we still date each other? I said, "no thanks" and he said, "I'm surprised, I thought you would be okay with it". Not so romantic a birthday after all.
5. We had just celebrated my birthday at a pizza place and my two friends and I were driving back to the UNLV campus. I was dropping off my friend at his car; he had just injured his ankle pretty badly, so my best friend was going to have to drive him home. On the way, a car came pulled out of the gas station, and hit us! Then he pulled into the parking lot across the street. I followed him, assuming that this is where we'd exchange information, etc. And then he sped off!! I wasn't going to let this guy get away from me. I followed him. A car chase ensued. Red lights were run, the speed limit laws were broken. He drove into an apartment complex parking lot, where I lost him. I was really upset that we didn't catch him.
Then we started to think- what would actually have happened if we caught this guy? What were we going to do? Two 20 year old college-girls, and one boy with a bum ankle. It was ridiculous. We went back to the gas station to see if they had any security camera's that had this vehicles details (they didn't release anything to us). There were two motorcycle cops there, so we told them our situation, and we were able to file a police report. Then we took pictures with them because it was, after all, still my birthday!
Friday, February 17, 2012
Hey, that embedding actually isn't that good, so take my quiz here.
If you like it, please repost and send to your friends.
If you like it, please repost and send to your friends.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Taxonomy of American Latter Day Saints: What Flavor of Mormon Are You?
Thanks to everyone who helped me out with this. I would give shout outs, but I don't know if it is embarrassing to be associated with this project.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Bandwagons That I Refuse to Jump On
I'm on the New York-DC bus right now and I'm really bored, so I think that I am going to just write blog posts until I get motion sickness.
* Hating airbrushing. If I knew how to airbrush, I would have as many pictures on Facebook as my salsa dancer sister-in-law. People I haven't seen would leave messages like, "D@#n girl, back on Slimfast?"
* Fanny packs. Some of my friends keep shaming me in public by sporting them. In the early '90s, my mother bought a fanny pack for Disney World and my sister promptly hid it. She should be hailed as a brave defender of feminine beauty.
* Pinterest. Am I missing something?
* Blaming the decline of Western Civilization on supermodels. It has never occurred to me to strive to look like them (hobbit apathy), so I feel no need to post rants about how Marilyn was a size 14 or whatever. Why do people care about this?
* Laughing at stuff that isn't funny, especially at church.
* Saying "friendly reminder" in a passive aggressive way.
* Older girls demonizing younger girls. I will admit that I am more used to teens than the average person, but I like that they are less likely to be depressed and prone to long boring convos about not dating. And they usually like my stories (if you are reading this, ask yourself, "Am I under 25?" I feel like the odds are good). If men want to marry nineteen-year-olds, go for it.
* Buying weird stuff off t.v. In Latin America it is always something like snail juice with weight loss properties.
* Twilight-Self-explanatory
* Huge, ugly hair flower headbands.
* Very vocally hating Valentine's Day. Today my student handed me a box of chocolates and said, "Ain't no one love you but me." What is there to hate?
* Hating airbrushing. If I knew how to airbrush, I would have as many pictures on Facebook as my salsa dancer sister-in-law. People I haven't seen would leave messages like, "D@#n girl, back on Slimfast?"
* Fanny packs. Some of my friends keep shaming me in public by sporting them. In the early '90s, my mother bought a fanny pack for Disney World and my sister promptly hid it. She should be hailed as a brave defender of feminine beauty.
* Pinterest. Am I missing something?
* Blaming the decline of Western Civilization on supermodels. It has never occurred to me to strive to look like them (hobbit apathy), so I feel no need to post rants about how Marilyn was a size 14 or whatever. Why do people care about this?
* Laughing at stuff that isn't funny, especially at church.
* Saying "friendly reminder" in a passive aggressive way.
* Older girls demonizing younger girls. I will admit that I am more used to teens than the average person, but I like that they are less likely to be depressed and prone to long boring convos about not dating. And they usually like my stories (if you are reading this, ask yourself, "Am I under 25?" I feel like the odds are good). If men want to marry nineteen-year-olds, go for it.
* Buying weird stuff off t.v. In Latin America it is always something like snail juice with weight loss properties.
* Twilight-Self-explanatory
* Huge, ugly hair flower headbands.
* Very vocally hating Valentine's Day. Today my student handed me a box of chocolates and said, "Ain't no one love you but me." What is there to hate?
Monday, February 13, 2012
Yearly Reprint of My Birthday Post
1981 (I probably should have changed this to 1986 to improve my marriage prospects)- Born under Aquarius in Preston, Idaho-proud home of Napoleon Dynamite. I had a cone head (I’m the oldest) and my parents were terrified that I was deformed. My doctor was later convicted of arson.
1985- My mom blew up balloons and wrote the letters for “Happy Birthday Jill” on each one. Because it was my birthday, I was allowed to watch whatever show that I wanted and I chose a prohibited one-Transformers.
Sometime in the 80s-My mom gave me a picture of my crush, Fred Savage.
1989-While picking out a new dress, I threw up spaghetti in Kohls.
1993- I sat at home alone, watching Dances With Wolves, tears streaming down my face. I can’t remember the details, but I know that it involved my mom instructing ladies to decorate Keds with puff paint instead of staying home with me.
1994- My Aunt Penny sent me TeenBeat magazines to mark the milestone. Those were the early days of Leo, Zach Morris and Macualy(too lazy to look up spelling) Culkin. I started subscribing to “Teen” and one month I realized from the Table of Contents that my mom had torn out an article along the lines of “Everything You Need To Know About Sex.” It was a valiant effort, but at the first opportunity, I ran to the library and read it.
1998- My friends called me one by one, bailing on my birthday. As I sobbed uncontrollably, my friend Sylvia called and convinced me to go to a restaurant with her. When we arrived, my friends were there. I was happy, yet ashamed that I had cried off all of my makeup.
1999- I passed out while donating blood and concluded that I was being punished for doing it to get out of class. My crush that year was too skinny to donate blood.
2002, Santiago, Dominican Republic-I was enrolled in a class that was half American (I know, not p.c., but I’m not saying United Statesian), half Dominican. Mid-lecture, another student raised his hand and said, “Jill y yo somos novios (basically “Jill and I are dating”).” This was not true. The Cuban teacher had an expression of panicked confusion on his face and the Dominicans in the class started chanting “Beso! Beso!”
In a rare recognition of my existence, my host family gave me a jewelry set.
2003, Provo, Utah-My friend Drea and I went to a BYU devotional (speech), where the speaker talked about how each year that you get older, the quality of your marriage options rapidly decreases. Later that night, my cousin, Brandon, gave me clam juice as a gift and my friend chugged the entire thing.
2006, San Pedro Sula, Honduras-The toilet in my bathroom broke, so my parents paid for my friends and me to stay in a hotel- it was a good way to forget where we were for a second. My class ordered pizzas in honor of my birthday, and ended up chucking the empty pizza boxes into the fan.
2007, San Pedro Sula, Honduras- For inexplicable reasons, I was very depressed about turning 26. But my fate was better than Anna Nicole Smith’s, who died that week. A few days before my birthday we did the hotel party again, and ended up watching several hours of the paternity drama on CNN.
On my actual birthday, my Honduran friend Thania made Mexican food (trust me, it is hard to get decent Mexican food there-people always put sick cheese all over everything) and somehow found root beer to honor my cultural heritage. The ladies from church were learning how to make jewelry at the time, so I got some pretty sweet gifts. This birthday receives an A+.
2009, New York, New York- I worked for a heinous devil, so I did not mention the blessed event. I do remember that my boss left work at 1:00 p.m., which was all the present that I needed. Luckily, someone who shared the office suite with us had a birthday, so I got some cake.
2010: I had a bad attitude about my birthday, but suddenly changed and told my friend Emily that I wanted to have a party at the last minute. She was a good sport about it and pulled together a dinner for 20+ people in like twenty-four hours.
2011: Everyone felt sorry for me because I turned thirty and bought me presents. I seriously received more than $200 in assorted gift cards alone. The Turkish school birthday cake had my name spelled incorrectly and as I was taking a pic of it, the secretary foiled me by slicing the spelling error with a knife.
2012:
Photo credit: Stef. For some reason we thought that the Rice Krispies box in the background made it more believable.
1985- My mom blew up balloons and wrote the letters for “Happy Birthday Jill” on each one. Because it was my birthday, I was allowed to watch whatever show that I wanted and I chose a prohibited one-Transformers.
Sometime in the 80s-My mom gave me a picture of my crush, Fred Savage.
1989-While picking out a new dress, I threw up spaghetti in Kohls.
1993- I sat at home alone, watching Dances With Wolves, tears streaming down my face. I can’t remember the details, but I know that it involved my mom instructing ladies to decorate Keds with puff paint instead of staying home with me.
1994- My Aunt Penny sent me TeenBeat magazines to mark the milestone. Those were the early days of Leo, Zach Morris and Macualy(too lazy to look up spelling) Culkin. I started subscribing to “Teen” and one month I realized from the Table of Contents that my mom had torn out an article along the lines of “Everything You Need To Know About Sex.” It was a valiant effort, but at the first opportunity, I ran to the library and read it.
1998- My friends called me one by one, bailing on my birthday. As I sobbed uncontrollably, my friend Sylvia called and convinced me to go to a restaurant with her. When we arrived, my friends were there. I was happy, yet ashamed that I had cried off all of my makeup.
1999- I passed out while donating blood and concluded that I was being punished for doing it to get out of class. My crush that year was too skinny to donate blood.
2002, Santiago, Dominican Republic-I was enrolled in a class that was half American (I know, not p.c., but I’m not saying United Statesian), half Dominican. Mid-lecture, another student raised his hand and said, “Jill y yo somos novios (basically “Jill and I are dating”).” This was not true. The Cuban teacher had an expression of panicked confusion on his face and the Dominicans in the class started chanting “Beso! Beso!”
In a rare recognition of my existence, my host family gave me a jewelry set.
2003, Provo, Utah-My friend Drea and I went to a BYU devotional (speech), where the speaker talked about how each year that you get older, the quality of your marriage options rapidly decreases. Later that night, my cousin, Brandon, gave me clam juice as a gift and my friend chugged the entire thing.
2006, San Pedro Sula, Honduras-The toilet in my bathroom broke, so my parents paid for my friends and me to stay in a hotel- it was a good way to forget where we were for a second. My class ordered pizzas in honor of my birthday, and ended up chucking the empty pizza boxes into the fan.
2007, San Pedro Sula, Honduras- For inexplicable reasons, I was very depressed about turning 26. But my fate was better than Anna Nicole Smith’s, who died that week. A few days before my birthday we did the hotel party again, and ended up watching several hours of the paternity drama on CNN.
On my actual birthday, my Honduran friend Thania made Mexican food (trust me, it is hard to get decent Mexican food there-people always put sick cheese all over everything) and somehow found root beer to honor my cultural heritage. The ladies from church were learning how to make jewelry at the time, so I got some pretty sweet gifts. This birthday receives an A+.
2009, New York, New York- I worked for a heinous devil, so I did not mention the blessed event. I do remember that my boss left work at 1:00 p.m., which was all the present that I needed. Luckily, someone who shared the office suite with us had a birthday, so I got some cake.
2010: I had a bad attitude about my birthday, but suddenly changed and told my friend Emily that I wanted to have a party at the last minute. She was a good sport about it and pulled together a dinner for 20+ people in like twenty-four hours.
2011: Everyone felt sorry for me because I turned thirty and bought me presents. I seriously received more than $200 in assorted gift cards alone. The Turkish school birthday cake had my name spelled incorrectly and as I was taking a pic of it, the secretary foiled me by slicing the spelling error with a knife.
2012:
Photo credit: Stef. For some reason we thought that the Rice Krispies box in the background made it more believable.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
Sleeping With One Eye Open/Wondering If Living With Your Parents At Age 30 Is Really So Bad
WARNING: ADULT THEMES
I am going to have to restrain myself from sharing any personal experiences, because I have no idea who reads this. People kept responding, "I want to talk about so-and-so, but he/she reads your blog."
Best of "Describe Your Craziest Roommate" Roll Call
1. BYU: She was in massage therapy school and so we never knew when we would come home to a random naked person in our living room getting a massage; she claimed to see the spirit of her dead grandfather all around the apartment; and she kissed another roommate while said roommate was taking a nap and then pretended like nothing had happened when that roommate woke up.
2. Yale: roommate one: crazy redhead in her 30's who had a much older married boyfriend who was the most famous flute player in America. They had very loud sex with the door open and made her poor crazy cat tigger watch! one time, they miscalculated when I was leaving for the airport and i ran by their open door with my ears burning!!! after she moved out, we discovered disgusting porn magazines--like really hard core dirty stuff--under her bed and my roommate and i had to triple wrap them in layers of newspaper and bags so the neighbors wouldn't think they were ours when we threw them out!
3. Yale: second horrible roommate: she was a dirty hippie environmentalist (proving that some stereotypes do come from reality, although not all environmentalists are dirty or hippies) who argued with us about flushing the toilet--her argument, not flushing the toilet and leaving feces and all manner of things in water was conserving water. our rebuttall--its dirty! she also routinely left gifts of her dirty underwear and clothes in the bathroom. she left food to rot in room so that we thought an animal died in there and the worst thing she ever did was drink too much one night and get high off of marijuana, after a concussion (she was on pain meds as well!) and forget her key, knocking on our door then waking up our poor 80-year-old landlord at four am in the morning!
4. Probably the craziest was my bulimic roommate whose mother sent her money to buy "fruit only" after she told her mom that I got her to eat Oreos with me. She would also pound on the wall of her room if she thought anyone in the living room was being too loud.
5. Pratt: We shared a 12x14' room with two twin beds close enough together to confuse bedsheets in the night. E. watched 'Girl Interrupted' just about every single day. Sometimes she would write something on a post-it and when I asked her a direct question she'd just point to a slip of yellow paper stuck to a dresser drawer or attached to a door knob. She'd often 'diary on the fabric of her life', which involved scrawling on her designer jeans with acrylic paint. At times we would each carry on separate phone calls while sitting in our cell. I guess it's safe to say we weren't what you'd consider 'friends'. She'd send herself in to a hyperventilating panic whenever her mother came to town, scrubbing the tops of cabinets with WD-40 while she sobbed. On one such occasion her mother announced that "Bill" had phoned the house. E. swallowed a gasp and I casually let my eyes drift to her side of the room, "He's out??!" she clapped and giggled. It turns out that Bill was the boy she'd lost her virginity to "the first time". (E. lost her virginity on a bi-annual basis). Along with this juicy piece of information, it was also brought to my attention that when they were fifteen he'd stabbed their mutual best friend 8 times. He had nowhere to go after the half-way house and so in the Spring of 2001, I was introduced to Bill, my craziest roommate.
6. My roommate herself wasn't crazy, but she had a crazy cat. I moved in when this kitty was about the equivalent of a male teenager. Non-neutered. He fixated on me and decided I was his girlfriend, and he was a very jealous boyfriend. Anytime I came out of my room, or my bedroom door were open, he would leap at me, dig his claws into my arm or leg or wherever and proceed to, ahem, try to take advantage of me. Luckily I am much bigger and stronger and could fight him off. I had a boyfriend at the time who would also get attacked every time he came over. It got so bad that we plotted doing away with the kitty, and in the morning I would dread coming out of my room because I never knew if he would be waiting to pounce on me. My roommate FINALLY took him to the vet, and when he came home snipped he was a much calmer, though slightly confused cat.
7. BYU: Scary M. Very dirty. And did the nasty in the apartment common room on top of the pool table with a STRANGER. sick. Maybe this is too racey for your blog
8. BYU: This guy I shared a room with in Provo had some very strange ways of interacting with women. Less than a week after I moved in, he told me about a time he was trying to decide which of two girls to ask out, so he made a spreadsheet and rated them 1-5 in several categories. They ended up tied, so he didn't ask either one out.
I would sometimes see other spreadsheets sitting on his desk, with a list of girls' names in one column, followed by his most recent interaction with them, his assessment of how it went, and in the last column his planned next move. Often this next move involved trying to talk to them at a meeting of the BYU Too-Tall Club.
Once, he found a girl that liked him enough to date him for a while. I heard him talking about her on the phone with his brother. "She's pretty," he said, "but she's not REAL pretty."
In addition to this weirdness, he was also pretty self-righteous (as a self-righteous person myself, I'm good at identifying those tendencies in others). Once I had some friends over, and was showing them a sketch from the most recent SNL episode that I had enjoyed. Roomie walked in right as an admittedly off-color joke was made. He froze for a second, then grabbed the frame holding a copy of the famous Harry Anderson Second Coming of Christ painting, and laid it face down on the top of the entertainment center it had been standing on. I was flabbergasted.
I am going to have to restrain myself from sharing any personal experiences, because I have no idea who reads this. People kept responding, "I want to talk about so-and-so, but he/she reads your blog."
Best of "Describe Your Craziest Roommate" Roll Call
1. BYU: She was in massage therapy school and so we never knew when we would come home to a random naked person in our living room getting a massage; she claimed to see the spirit of her dead grandfather all around the apartment; and she kissed another roommate while said roommate was taking a nap and then pretended like nothing had happened when that roommate woke up.
2. Yale: roommate one: crazy redhead in her 30's who had a much older married boyfriend who was the most famous flute player in America. They had very loud sex with the door open and made her poor crazy cat tigger watch! one time, they miscalculated when I was leaving for the airport and i ran by their open door with my ears burning!!! after she moved out, we discovered disgusting porn magazines--like really hard core dirty stuff--under her bed and my roommate and i had to triple wrap them in layers of newspaper and bags so the neighbors wouldn't think they were ours when we threw them out!
3. Yale: second horrible roommate: she was a dirty hippie environmentalist (proving that some stereotypes do come from reality, although not all environmentalists are dirty or hippies) who argued with us about flushing the toilet--her argument, not flushing the toilet and leaving feces and all manner of things in water was conserving water. our rebuttall--its dirty! she also routinely left gifts of her dirty underwear and clothes in the bathroom. she left food to rot in room so that we thought an animal died in there and the worst thing she ever did was drink too much one night and get high off of marijuana, after a concussion (she was on pain meds as well!) and forget her key, knocking on our door then waking up our poor 80-year-old landlord at four am in the morning!
4. Probably the craziest was my bulimic roommate whose mother sent her money to buy "fruit only" after she told her mom that I got her to eat Oreos with me. She would also pound on the wall of her room if she thought anyone in the living room was being too loud.
5. Pratt: We shared a 12x14' room with two twin beds close enough together to confuse bedsheets in the night. E. watched 'Girl Interrupted' just about every single day. Sometimes she would write something on a post-it and when I asked her a direct question she'd just point to a slip of yellow paper stuck to a dresser drawer or attached to a door knob. She'd often 'diary on the fabric of her life', which involved scrawling on her designer jeans with acrylic paint. At times we would each carry on separate phone calls while sitting in our cell. I guess it's safe to say we weren't what you'd consider 'friends'. She'd send herself in to a hyperventilating panic whenever her mother came to town, scrubbing the tops of cabinets with WD-40 while she sobbed. On one such occasion her mother announced that "Bill" had phoned the house. E. swallowed a gasp and I casually let my eyes drift to her side of the room, "He's out??!" she clapped and giggled. It turns out that Bill was the boy she'd lost her virginity to "the first time". (E. lost her virginity on a bi-annual basis). Along with this juicy piece of information, it was also brought to my attention that when they were fifteen he'd stabbed their mutual best friend 8 times. He had nowhere to go after the half-way house and so in the Spring of 2001, I was introduced to Bill, my craziest roommate.
6. My roommate herself wasn't crazy, but she had a crazy cat. I moved in when this kitty was about the equivalent of a male teenager. Non-neutered. He fixated on me and decided I was his girlfriend, and he was a very jealous boyfriend. Anytime I came out of my room, or my bedroom door were open, he would leap at me, dig his claws into my arm or leg or wherever and proceed to, ahem, try to take advantage of me. Luckily I am much bigger and stronger and could fight him off. I had a boyfriend at the time who would also get attacked every time he came over. It got so bad that we plotted doing away with the kitty, and in the morning I would dread coming out of my room because I never knew if he would be waiting to pounce on me. My roommate FINALLY took him to the vet, and when he came home snipped he was a much calmer, though slightly confused cat.
7. BYU: Scary M. Very dirty. And did the nasty in the apartment common room on top of the pool table with a STRANGER. sick. Maybe this is too racey for your blog
8. BYU: This guy I shared a room with in Provo had some very strange ways of interacting with women. Less than a week after I moved in, he told me about a time he was trying to decide which of two girls to ask out, so he made a spreadsheet and rated them 1-5 in several categories. They ended up tied, so he didn't ask either one out.
I would sometimes see other spreadsheets sitting on his desk, with a list of girls' names in one column, followed by his most recent interaction with them, his assessment of how it went, and in the last column his planned next move. Often this next move involved trying to talk to them at a meeting of the BYU Too-Tall Club.
Once, he found a girl that liked him enough to date him for a while. I heard him talking about her on the phone with his brother. "She's pretty," he said, "but she's not REAL pretty."
In addition to this weirdness, he was also pretty self-righteous (as a self-righteous person myself, I'm good at identifying those tendencies in others). Once I had some friends over, and was showing them a sketch from the most recent SNL episode that I had enjoyed. Roomie walked in right as an admittedly off-color joke was made. He froze for a second, then grabbed the frame holding a copy of the famous Harry Anderson Second Coming of Christ painting, and laid it face down on the top of the entertainment center it had been standing on. I was flabbergasted.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Honduras Groundhog Memories
Oh my gosh, I am at parent's teacher conferences and I am reading my old Honduras blog to kill time. I just read a timely entry:
"We had a staff meeting today and the topic was coordinating the holiday parties. We were trying to choose which holidays to celebrate and a woman said, "Last year there was a holiday that never ended. It was called Miss Jill's birthday. I felt like I was living 'Groundhog Day,' because every day it just kept happening."
All I have to say is that kids are geniuses at throwing surprise parties for their teacher to avoid doing work. I think that I am going to start reprinting Honduras stories once a week, because reading this is pretty fun.
Honduran DJ Challenge 2006
All week we have been laboriously learning note names and rhythms-an activity that is not that exciting for the typical 7th grade boy. One of my classes is a notoriously bad class, but I haven't had any problems with them yet-probably because I am not teaching the most challenging class around. Early in the week two of the boys approached and said, "Miss, if we are good this week, can we have a DJ Showdown on Friday?" Who am I to stand between early adolescents and their developing talents?
Things went well all week, and the big day quickly arrived. Both boys brought in their mix cds and quietly sat through the boring part of class. Then I announced that the time for the contest had come. I gently asked, "Will you be ok if you don't win the DJ Showdown? I don't want to have any fighting after this." One of the contestants replied, "Miss, do you really think that we would get upset over a simple DJ showdown?" Ok, I guess not. Both DJs competed bravely, as they quickly had to eliminate songs that were inappropriate for school. The audience calmly sang along to every song, and the contest went off without a hitch. I collected the votes, and class ended before I could tally them.
The next period I had the 6th graders and at the end of class there was a crazy mess. I told them that they could not go to lunch until they cleaned up, but they were just staring at me blankly. This continued for several minutes, with only one suck up kid cleaning the room (yes, if we went back 15 years, I would be that kid). Then one girl suggested, "I think that we would do better if we had some background music." I let them put on a Reggaeton song of slightly questionable content and they started cleaning like maniacs. The entire room was spotless in less than a minute and one of the girls shouted jubilantly, "Miss, this song is inspiring us!"
As the sixth graders were leaving, the room was stormed by an army of 7th grade boys. They couldn't wait another minute for the results of the DJ Showdown. Since only ten kids bothered to vote, tabulating the results was easy. I announced the winner, and he looked at me in a stunned silence. He couldn't believe that he had had the good fortune to win the DJ Showdown. Finally, when he regained speaking capabilities, he whispered, "I must be the best DJ in the entire school!"
I would judge 25-year-old Jill if my honors class had not done Spanish MASH just yesterday.
"We had a staff meeting today and the topic was coordinating the holiday parties. We were trying to choose which holidays to celebrate and a woman said, "Last year there was a holiday that never ended. It was called Miss Jill's birthday. I felt like I was living 'Groundhog Day,' because every day it just kept happening."
All I have to say is that kids are geniuses at throwing surprise parties for their teacher to avoid doing work. I think that I am going to start reprinting Honduras stories once a week, because reading this is pretty fun.
Honduran DJ Challenge 2006
All week we have been laboriously learning note names and rhythms-an activity that is not that exciting for the typical 7th grade boy. One of my classes is a notoriously bad class, but I haven't had any problems with them yet-probably because I am not teaching the most challenging class around. Early in the week two of the boys approached and said, "Miss, if we are good this week, can we have a DJ Showdown on Friday?" Who am I to stand between early adolescents and their developing talents?
Things went well all week, and the big day quickly arrived. Both boys brought in their mix cds and quietly sat through the boring part of class. Then I announced that the time for the contest had come. I gently asked, "Will you be ok if you don't win the DJ Showdown? I don't want to have any fighting after this." One of the contestants replied, "Miss, do you really think that we would get upset over a simple DJ showdown?" Ok, I guess not. Both DJs competed bravely, as they quickly had to eliminate songs that were inappropriate for school. The audience calmly sang along to every song, and the contest went off without a hitch. I collected the votes, and class ended before I could tally them.
The next period I had the 6th graders and at the end of class there was a crazy mess. I told them that they could not go to lunch until they cleaned up, but they were just staring at me blankly. This continued for several minutes, with only one suck up kid cleaning the room (yes, if we went back 15 years, I would be that kid). Then one girl suggested, "I think that we would do better if we had some background music." I let them put on a Reggaeton song of slightly questionable content and they started cleaning like maniacs. The entire room was spotless in less than a minute and one of the girls shouted jubilantly, "Miss, this song is inspiring us!"
As the sixth graders were leaving, the room was stormed by an army of 7th grade boys. They couldn't wait another minute for the results of the DJ Showdown. Since only ten kids bothered to vote, tabulating the results was easy. I announced the winner, and he looked at me in a stunned silence. He couldn't believe that he had had the good fortune to win the DJ Showdown. Finally, when he regained speaking capabilities, he whispered, "I must be the best DJ in the entire school!"
I would judge 25-year-old Jill if my honors class had not done Spanish MASH just yesterday.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
In Which Google Is A Fountain of Youth Akin to Mormon Midsingles Events
Click here to have google guess your age and gender.
My results:
Your categories
Below you can review a summary of the interests and inferred demographics that Google has associated with your cookie. You can remove or edit your categories at any time.
Arts & Entertainment - Music & Audio - Urban & Hip-Hop - Rap & Hip-Hop*
Arts & Entertainment - TV & Video - Online Video
Beauty & Fitness - Hair Care
News - Politics
People & Society - Family & Relationships - Family - Parenting
* What the? I guess work related research has finally caught up with me.
Your demographics
We infer your age and gender based on the websites you've visited. You can remove or edit these at any time.
Age: 18-24 *
Gender: Female
* YESSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
My results:
Your categories
Below you can review a summary of the interests and inferred demographics that Google has associated with your cookie. You can remove or edit your categories at any time.
Arts & Entertainment - Music & Audio - Urban & Hip-Hop - Rap & Hip-Hop*
Arts & Entertainment - TV & Video - Online Video
Beauty & Fitness - Hair Care
News - Politics
People & Society - Family & Relationships - Family - Parenting
* What the? I guess work related research has finally caught up with me.
Your demographics
We infer your age and gender based on the websites you've visited. You can remove or edit these at any time.
Age: 18-24 *
Gender: Female
* YESSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Good one, South Carolina
I feel like this is the equivalent of me reading Korean spelled phonetically.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Welcome to Sacramental Meeting
One of my grandma's frequently repeated stories was that when my grandpa was Stake President, she had to give a talk during a conference. People were dozing off, so she took it upon herself to belt out her version of the Muslim call to prayer to wake them up.
In light of the fact that I very recently heard one of the strangest sacrament meeting talks of all time, I have asked my friends to contribute their own. DISCLAIMER: I am cognizant of the fact that some people's weirdest sacrament talk could very possibly have been one of mine. Also, Youth Conference and Girl's Camp are in a category of their own, so maybe I will have a separate blog about that one.
My Best of Sacrament Meeting
* This actually happened in Sunday School when I was at BYU. The teacher was giving a lesson on kindness and said, "When I first started walking the hallowed halls of UVSC, I expected everyone to be friendly and loving, because there were so many Mormons. However, I met people like Jill who disappointed me in that respect (I had recently declined his generous offer to make out)." Everyone looked at me and I said with disgust, "I don't go to UVSC." Needless to say, that didn't go over well.
* "Ladies, all I have to say is that "Bob" (guy in the ward who she had made out with) is great! I really recommend him."
* "My name is Anne with an "e," but you can call me Cordelia." The weirdest part of this is that her name was not even Anne, with or without an "e."
* "John Bytheway doesn't have anything on me. I can teach you to scour Facebook for foreign saints and I have a wedding date in Vladivostok to prove it. Ed. note: I actually admire this one because I like when people set goals and achieve them. "
* An entire talk using the plot of Mars Attacks as an allegory for the Atonement.
* A man in the ward said, "I love my wife so much because she forgives me even when I don't pick up my socks due to ADD." A few minutes later another man said, "That's great! The next time I feel like throwing my socks on the floor I will say, 'Sorry, honey, I can't. I have ADD.'"
* At five minute intervals, the speaker kept chanting earnestly, "Stop and smell the roses."
* I thought that this was more scandalous before I was in New York City wards, but a guy told and inspirational story about a wake boarding challenge and exclaimed, "That freakin' sucked!"
Friend Poll Best of Sacrament Meeting
* Woman stood up and said how she was so glad that her dog was doing missionary work with the other dogs in the neighborhood and he had converted a lot of them to the gospel. She knew that when dogs were converted they became much easier pets.
* My sister-in-law told me of a woman in her ward who stood during Testimony Meeting with her baby girl, and had the baby give her "testimony" by holding her up and speaking in a high-pitched baby voice
* I once heard someone give the sacrament prayer entirely in their own words. Same points were hit, but completely re-worded.
* Once a man calling himself "Jimmy Boston" bore his testimony of God using an analogy about squirrels he developed during a time he spent living in a park. He also quoted Rocky IV. Ed. note: This was the first movie to make me cry. It might have remained the only if I had never started watching so many weird foreign dramas. At the end, instead of the usual closing sentence, he simply raised both hands, said "thank you! Thank you!", walked down from the stand and out of the chapel and church, never to be seen again.
* Another time in the same "ward" a man stood and bore his testimony about his gratitude for his beautiful girlfriend, sitting in the congregation, who was a blatant tranny.
* Then there was that time that a leader from unidentified New York borough got up in a YSA conference and in one sweep called anyone who was a model, had piercings, tats, unnatural hair color, or...i-pods bad people. That was awesome. He managed to offend 90% of the congregation, people actually got up and left (including the dudes with tats and gages right behind me) and then another stake president had to get up after him and do damage control.
* The speaker said that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ were completely selfish. (I think she meant to say 'selfless')
* In a singles ward a girl described how she snuck into her boyfriend's tent at the ward camping activity and how hard it was not to have sex. She went on and on about how bad they both wanted it and how good it would feel. Pretty much dirty talking during testimony meeting.
* At BYU during the chastity lesson our Bishop told us he wanted us all to identify our own personal lines and get as close to them as possible to ensure we wouldn't be "disappointed" once we got married.
* A guy bore his testimony about how he was glad for the plan of salvation because he knew his sister's murderer (she was killed that past week) was going to outer darkness.
* A missionary telling us about the dreams they "gave" to their investigator to convince him to join the church. They were all about video game demon destruction, which had something to do with the gospel. The investigator didn't get baptized, and the missionary was wondering why.
* One week a girl told us: "If you don't do your visiting teaching you will never get married" She also quoted Nelson Mandela and told us that he was a former member of the Quorum of the Twelve.
* In a closing prayer at sacrament: "Please bless all the girls in this ward who have sexual transgressions, help them to humble themselves and repent in full."
* Also, my first week in NYC: a father in the ward said during a talk, ”Everyone needs good parents. I just want everyone to know that sometimes kids go wrong anyway and you need to go to God then. He will help you. I used to have my son hang from the door frame by his fingers, like a pull up? I'd use the belt on him and tell him how he'd done wrong. That was really hard for me and even with all that trying, my boy went to jail anyway.”
In light of the fact that I very recently heard one of the strangest sacrament meeting talks of all time, I have asked my friends to contribute their own. DISCLAIMER: I am cognizant of the fact that some people's weirdest sacrament talk could very possibly have been one of mine. Also, Youth Conference and Girl's Camp are in a category of their own, so maybe I will have a separate blog about that one.
My Best of Sacrament Meeting
* This actually happened in Sunday School when I was at BYU. The teacher was giving a lesson on kindness and said, "When I first started walking the hallowed halls of UVSC, I expected everyone to be friendly and loving, because there were so many Mormons. However, I met people like Jill who disappointed me in that respect (I had recently declined his generous offer to make out)." Everyone looked at me and I said with disgust, "I don't go to UVSC." Needless to say, that didn't go over well.
* "Ladies, all I have to say is that "Bob" (guy in the ward who she had made out with) is great! I really recommend him."
* "My name is Anne with an "e," but you can call me Cordelia." The weirdest part of this is that her name was not even Anne, with or without an "e."
* "John Bytheway doesn't have anything on me. I can teach you to scour Facebook for foreign saints and I have a wedding date in Vladivostok to prove it. Ed. note: I actually admire this one because I like when people set goals and achieve them. "
* An entire talk using the plot of Mars Attacks as an allegory for the Atonement.
* A man in the ward said, "I love my wife so much because she forgives me even when I don't pick up my socks due to ADD." A few minutes later another man said, "That's great! The next time I feel like throwing my socks on the floor I will say, 'Sorry, honey, I can't. I have ADD.'"
* At five minute intervals, the speaker kept chanting earnestly, "Stop and smell the roses."
* I thought that this was more scandalous before I was in New York City wards, but a guy told and inspirational story about a wake boarding challenge and exclaimed, "That freakin' sucked!"
Friend Poll Best of Sacrament Meeting
* Woman stood up and said how she was so glad that her dog was doing missionary work with the other dogs in the neighborhood and he had converted a lot of them to the gospel. She knew that when dogs were converted they became much easier pets.
* My sister-in-law told me of a woman in her ward who stood during Testimony Meeting with her baby girl, and had the baby give her "testimony" by holding her up and speaking in a high-pitched baby voice
* I once heard someone give the sacrament prayer entirely in their own words. Same points were hit, but completely re-worded.
* Once a man calling himself "Jimmy Boston" bore his testimony of God using an analogy about squirrels he developed during a time he spent living in a park. He also quoted Rocky IV. Ed. note: This was the first movie to make me cry. It might have remained the only if I had never started watching so many weird foreign dramas. At the end, instead of the usual closing sentence, he simply raised both hands, said "thank you! Thank you!", walked down from the stand and out of the chapel and church, never to be seen again.
* Another time in the same "ward" a man stood and bore his testimony about his gratitude for his beautiful girlfriend, sitting in the congregation, who was a blatant tranny.
* Then there was that time that a leader from unidentified New York borough got up in a YSA conference and in one sweep called anyone who was a model, had piercings, tats, unnatural hair color, or...i-pods bad people. That was awesome. He managed to offend 90% of the congregation, people actually got up and left (including the dudes with tats and gages right behind me) and then another stake president had to get up after him and do damage control.
* The speaker said that Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ were completely selfish. (I think she meant to say 'selfless')
* In a singles ward a girl described how she snuck into her boyfriend's tent at the ward camping activity and how hard it was not to have sex. She went on and on about how bad they both wanted it and how good it would feel. Pretty much dirty talking during testimony meeting.
* At BYU during the chastity lesson our Bishop told us he wanted us all to identify our own personal lines and get as close to them as possible to ensure we wouldn't be "disappointed" once we got married.
* A guy bore his testimony about how he was glad for the plan of salvation because he knew his sister's murderer (she was killed that past week) was going to outer darkness.
* A missionary telling us about the dreams they "gave" to their investigator to convince him to join the church. They were all about video game demon destruction, which had something to do with the gospel. The investigator didn't get baptized, and the missionary was wondering why.
* One week a girl told us: "If you don't do your visiting teaching you will never get married" She also quoted Nelson Mandela and told us that he was a former member of the Quorum of the Twelve.
* In a closing prayer at sacrament: "Please bless all the girls in this ward who have sexual transgressions, help them to humble themselves and repent in full."
* Also, my first week in NYC: a father in the ward said during a talk, ”Everyone needs good parents. I just want everyone to know that sometimes kids go wrong anyway and you need to go to God then. He will help you. I used to have my son hang from the door frame by his fingers, like a pull up? I'd use the belt on him and tell him how he'd done wrong. That was really hard for me and even with all that trying, my boy went to jail anyway.”
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Shining Stars of the American Public School System
One of the good/bad things about being a teacher is the potential that you have to send a little piece of yourself into the future. Everyone remembers their influential teachers, especially the super eccentric ones. Sometimes I get nervous about the weird stories that could be circulating in Turkey/Honduras/throughout the U.S. regarding a certain batty blonde woman, but it doesn't really impede me from saying really weird stuff to keep myself entertained all day.
I asked my friends to share their most memorable experiences with me and the following are the sometimes horrifying results. If you gave me one on gchat and I forgot to cut and paste it, my most sincere apologies.
* I didn't have her but there was an English teacher at my high school who had a psychotic episode and truly believed that she was Scarlett O'Hara. She showed up at school wearing a hoop skirt and gargling perfume, although that may have been partly to mask the scent of other liquids she'd previously imbibed. Ed. note: I think this is my favorite one.
* Her make-up was tattooed to her face in a way that made her look elated when she was off-put and her zeal for sex scenes kept us focused on very small windows of Shakespeare's collected works.
* A 60-something who dates much younger men, only wears clothes from the thrift store, cuts her hair in the work bathroom, will say the opposite of whatever someone else says, hates all people (but will defend subs to the death for some reason), loves animals and regularly eats herring and odd items (eg a potato) found in her purse.
* The Gilderoy Lockhart of Behavioral Psychology. He would tell crazy stories about solving all the problems of mass quantities of boys with autism simply by using string or something.
* One of my crazier professors suggested (during the DC sniper rampage) that all people in the greater DC area wear a target on their back to show solidarity.
* I had a "diversity class" professor who constantly referenced her children in class and referred to them as her "brown children". She was obviously very proud of herself for marrying a hispanic and producing "brown children". She was very white, and living in Provo. I guess you cling to what you've got.
* A political science professor, offending at least half the class per semester, Brother ___ would spit through his floppy dentures how women shouldn’t leave the home or gain an education. Ed. note: I think that we can all infer that this incident did not take place at UC Berkeley.
* Another high school teacher who I didn't have was an Iranian political refugee who taught physics and shocked students who fell asleep in class with a cattle prod. After being informed that that wasn't acceptable he switched to pelting snoozers with tennis balls as hard as he could, he kept a pretty alert group of students in his room.
* White shirt, black bra, liked to lean in and say how she liked women who wore red lipstick - her voice was incredibly high pitched and she looked a lot like kung fu panda.
* Mr. E. (we called him "Lloydski" since his name was Lloyd) was straight out of the 70s with an alcohol-induced red face, gold chain, and curly graying chest hair...for any class party when the sign-ups went around he always thought it was hilarious that someone would sign him up to bring Kahlua and coffee since we were pretty sure that was what he was drinking all day long. Oh, and did I mention he was an aspiring actor and in his 60s was an extra working as a "peasant" on Titanic? Apparently you can catch a glimpse of him in the opening scenes when they are loading the boat.
* He took me skydiving and when I landed, he ran over to hug me and squeezed my butt with both hands. Ed. note: More information, please
* I had my first semester Humanities professor at BYU tell me personally that the only teachers that were good ones were members of the church, and all the others were useless.
* The male Shakespeare professor who wore all the gaudy rings seemed really on edge all the time.
* I loved my tenth grade English teacher, who wrote and sang ballads that helped us memorize the rules of grammar. DO re Action to the tune of Do Re Mi (direct object receives the action of the sentence). IO re DO (EIEIO), etc.
* My freshman HS Geography teacher taught us how to spell the 50 states. And we were quizzed. When my mom complained to him about this at parent teacher conf, he told her that he was too busy managing the football team and she needed to understand priorities. Every parent teacher night after he would ask me if my mom was planning on coming so he could "prep."
* My HS math teacher's fave endearing term for his students was "perverts." When asking us questions he would say "which one of you perverts knows the answer??" He was also a Bishop at the time.
* Miss H., the worst 1st grade teacher ever, who couldn't understand why 5-6 year olds didn't have the attention span of adults and was constantly yelling. I remember her having us stand next to our desks silently during an entire lunch recess while she talked on her phone to her friend about how annoying we were. She was maybe 22. Most parents tried moving kids out of her class but after 10 kids moved out, they wouldn't let anyone else out
* A football coach teacher who would use all his might to slap students desks with a yard stick during tests to "ease the tension in the room"
* In college I had a teacher (with whom i had zero relationship on any kind of personal level) who blew a huge misunderstanding out of proportion and ended up staging a confrontation with me which turned out to be a therapy session for her, with me as her impromptu and involuntary therapist. All I know is I sat there the entire time feeling like i was in an alternate universe or maybe Totally Hidden Video and the therapy session ended with me apologizing again and asking her what she wanted me to do and she sat quietly weeping, shook her head and said "nothing."
* And finally, a response in the form of a poem:
wore bike helmet to class, so excited
about particle physics
he forgot to take it off.
office a stack of papers ten feet
with a two foot circle in the middle
just large enough for a brain and chair
died his shirt tie-dye to hide a ketchup stain
believed in mars
and the colonization thereof.
I asked my friends to share their most memorable experiences with me and the following are the sometimes horrifying results. If you gave me one on gchat and I forgot to cut and paste it, my most sincere apologies.
* I didn't have her but there was an English teacher at my high school who had a psychotic episode and truly believed that she was Scarlett O'Hara. She showed up at school wearing a hoop skirt and gargling perfume, although that may have been partly to mask the scent of other liquids she'd previously imbibed. Ed. note: I think this is my favorite one.
* Her make-up was tattooed to her face in a way that made her look elated when she was off-put and her zeal for sex scenes kept us focused on very small windows of Shakespeare's collected works.
* A 60-something who dates much younger men, only wears clothes from the thrift store, cuts her hair in the work bathroom, will say the opposite of whatever someone else says, hates all people (but will defend subs to the death for some reason), loves animals and regularly eats herring and odd items (eg a potato) found in her purse.
* The Gilderoy Lockhart of Behavioral Psychology. He would tell crazy stories about solving all the problems of mass quantities of boys with autism simply by using string or something.
* One of my crazier professors suggested (during the DC sniper rampage) that all people in the greater DC area wear a target on their back to show solidarity.
* I had a "diversity class" professor who constantly referenced her children in class and referred to them as her "brown children". She was obviously very proud of herself for marrying a hispanic and producing "brown children". She was very white, and living in Provo. I guess you cling to what you've got.
* A political science professor, offending at least half the class per semester, Brother ___ would spit through his floppy dentures how women shouldn’t leave the home or gain an education. Ed. note: I think that we can all infer that this incident did not take place at UC Berkeley.
* Another high school teacher who I didn't have was an Iranian political refugee who taught physics and shocked students who fell asleep in class with a cattle prod. After being informed that that wasn't acceptable he switched to pelting snoozers with tennis balls as hard as he could, he kept a pretty alert group of students in his room.
* White shirt, black bra, liked to lean in and say how she liked women who wore red lipstick - her voice was incredibly high pitched and she looked a lot like kung fu panda.
* Mr. E. (we called him "Lloydski" since his name was Lloyd) was straight out of the 70s with an alcohol-induced red face, gold chain, and curly graying chest hair...for any class party when the sign-ups went around he always thought it was hilarious that someone would sign him up to bring Kahlua and coffee since we were pretty sure that was what he was drinking all day long. Oh, and did I mention he was an aspiring actor and in his 60s was an extra working as a "peasant" on Titanic? Apparently you can catch a glimpse of him in the opening scenes when they are loading the boat.
* He took me skydiving and when I landed, he ran over to hug me and squeezed my butt with both hands. Ed. note: More information, please
* I had my first semester Humanities professor at BYU tell me personally that the only teachers that were good ones were members of the church, and all the others were useless.
* The male Shakespeare professor who wore all the gaudy rings seemed really on edge all the time.
* I loved my tenth grade English teacher, who wrote and sang ballads that helped us memorize the rules of grammar. DO re Action to the tune of Do Re Mi (direct object receives the action of the sentence). IO re DO (EIEIO), etc.
* My freshman HS Geography teacher taught us how to spell the 50 states. And we were quizzed. When my mom complained to him about this at parent teacher conf, he told her that he was too busy managing the football team and she needed to understand priorities. Every parent teacher night after he would ask me if my mom was planning on coming so he could "prep."
* My HS math teacher's fave endearing term for his students was "perverts." When asking us questions he would say "which one of you perverts knows the answer??" He was also a Bishop at the time.
* Miss H., the worst 1st grade teacher ever, who couldn't understand why 5-6 year olds didn't have the attention span of adults and was constantly yelling. I remember her having us stand next to our desks silently during an entire lunch recess while she talked on her phone to her friend about how annoying we were. She was maybe 22. Most parents tried moving kids out of her class but after 10 kids moved out, they wouldn't let anyone else out
* A football coach teacher who would use all his might to slap students desks with a yard stick during tests to "ease the tension in the room"
* In college I had a teacher (with whom i had zero relationship on any kind of personal level) who blew a huge misunderstanding out of proportion and ended up staging a confrontation with me which turned out to be a therapy session for her, with me as her impromptu and involuntary therapist. All I know is I sat there the entire time feeling like i was in an alternate universe or maybe Totally Hidden Video and the therapy session ended with me apologizing again and asking her what she wanted me to do and she sat quietly weeping, shook her head and said "nothing."
* And finally, a response in the form of a poem:
wore bike helmet to class, so excited
about particle physics
he forgot to take it off.
office a stack of papers ten feet
with a two foot circle in the middle
just large enough for a brain and chair
died his shirt tie-dye to hide a ketchup stain
believed in mars
and the colonization thereof.
Monday, January 23, 2012
My Life As A Carny: Part Two
I know that I have discussed my freakishly small feet before, but I think that this picture sums it up pretty well:
Let me know if you have any tips on where to buy size 5 shoes. I am starting to come to grips with the fact that stuffing size 6 so that they fit me is giving me a strange gait.
Let me know if you have any tips on where to buy size 5 shoes. I am starting to come to grips with the fact that stuffing size 6 so that they fit me is giving me a strange gait.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Toward the Peaceful Coexistence of Introverts and Extroverts
In the spirit of full disclosure, I am not even a little shy or introverted. In fact, I realized recently that spending too much time alone turns me into a nihilist (and probably also the gloomy month of January). I almost always know what to say and I don't ever get tongue tied. And I usually have pretty good comebacks, which has proven to be a professional asset.
I have been surprised in recent years to realize that not everyone feels the same way. One of my friends told me once that she experienced social anxiety before she hung out with me for the first time and I was shocked. Understanding that everyone isn't instantly effusive has really helped me not to have hurt feelings so easily. It is hard for me to imagine that someone wouldn't talk to me because of shyness, but I'm sure that it happens sometimes.
Thanks to Bridget of Arabia for posting Socially Awkward Penguin. It really made me think about my own social awkwardness.
Socially Awkward Miss Jill
* Post something on my blog, think of it two hours later and then start to stress that it is too offensive. I am usually driving or on public transportation at the time, so nothing can be done.
* I make friends in weird places, so I am frequently invited to events where I only know the host. This is one of the only things that gives me social anxiety, because you know that the host doesn't want to babysit you and you will be stuck having awkward convos with strangers.
* Sometimes I get too keyed up to eat (obviously not that often) in social situations and people think that I don't like the food.
* Laugh at my own jokes and stories, way too loudly.
* Tell too many weird stories in a row so that I sound like a pathological liar. Even I listen to myself and think, "How could all of this happen to one person?"
* Constantly check to see if I texted/e-mailed the wrong person (because I have done this)
* I am usually too self-conscious to make comments in classes or discussion groups, which always surprises people.
* Check my phone for pocket dialing before I start to talk about something personal.
* Remember random things about people for decades so that I look like a stalker.
* Talk to myself.
* I will admit that there have been times that I pretended not to see people on public transportation.
I will examine my own behavior today and see if I can come up with some more.
I have been surprised in recent years to realize that not everyone feels the same way. One of my friends told me once that she experienced social anxiety before she hung out with me for the first time and I was shocked. Understanding that everyone isn't instantly effusive has really helped me not to have hurt feelings so easily. It is hard for me to imagine that someone wouldn't talk to me because of shyness, but I'm sure that it happens sometimes.
Thanks to Bridget of Arabia for posting Socially Awkward Penguin. It really made me think about my own social awkwardness.
Socially Awkward Miss Jill
* Post something on my blog, think of it two hours later and then start to stress that it is too offensive. I am usually driving or on public transportation at the time, so nothing can be done.
* I make friends in weird places, so I am frequently invited to events where I only know the host. This is one of the only things that gives me social anxiety, because you know that the host doesn't want to babysit you and you will be stuck having awkward convos with strangers.
* Sometimes I get too keyed up to eat (obviously not that often) in social situations and people think that I don't like the food.
* Laugh at my own jokes and stories, way too loudly.
* Tell too many weird stories in a row so that I sound like a pathological liar. Even I listen to myself and think, "How could all of this happen to one person?"
* Constantly check to see if I texted/e-mailed the wrong person (because I have done this)
* I am usually too self-conscious to make comments in classes or discussion groups, which always surprises people.
* Check my phone for pocket dialing before I start to talk about something personal.
* Remember random things about people for decades so that I look like a stalker.
* Talk to myself.
* I will admit that there have been times that I pretended not to see people on public transportation.
I will examine my own behavior today and see if I can come up with some more.
In Which the Latest Parisian Trends Hit the Defensive Line
Ok, I try not to blog about work, but this one can't be helped.
One of my students is a colossal football player who happened to have a birthday on Wednesday. He celebrated the day by not attending school. When he came into class on Thursday, the first thing that he said was, "Ain't you going to wish me a happy belated birthday?" I complied and asked, "So, what did you do yesterday instead of going to school?" He replied, "I went to the mall, went out to eat, went to the spa..."
"Ok, wait a minute. Please give me more information about the statement 'I went to the spa.'"
"I got my nails fixed. A manicure and pedicure. My mom don't like me to look raggedy."
"Please show me your hands."
Imagine Shaq thrusting his hands into your face. Then imagine that his nails were filed into perfect ovals and painted pink.
A few hours later I had study hall duty with another teacher. When he came in, I immediately asked him to interrogate the student about what he had done for his birthday.
A few boys started mocking him immediately. "He went to the spa! He gay!."
For a second I thought that I would have to intervene, but he responded confidently, "No I ain't. I just like to look good. All the men in Europe is doin' it."
One of my students is a colossal football player who happened to have a birthday on Wednesday. He celebrated the day by not attending school. When he came into class on Thursday, the first thing that he said was, "Ain't you going to wish me a happy belated birthday?" I complied and asked, "So, what did you do yesterday instead of going to school?" He replied, "I went to the mall, went out to eat, went to the spa..."
"Ok, wait a minute. Please give me more information about the statement 'I went to the spa.'"
"I got my nails fixed. A manicure and pedicure. My mom don't like me to look raggedy."
"Please show me your hands."
Imagine Shaq thrusting his hands into your face. Then imagine that his nails were filed into perfect ovals and painted pink.
A few hours later I had study hall duty with another teacher. When he came in, I immediately asked him to interrogate the student about what he had done for his birthday.
A few boys started mocking him immediately. "He went to the spa! He gay!."
For a second I thought that I would have to intervene, but he responded confidently, "No I ain't. I just like to look good. All the men in Europe is doin' it."
Thursday, January 12, 2012
In Which the Heckler and the Victim are Irrevocably Linked
I would like to point out that every time I say something slightly humorous about Utah, I lose several Google Reader subscribers. However, when I dedicated a whole post to making fun of California, no one unsubscribed and several Californians left affirming comments. What can we learn from this?
When I was in a BYU ward, I had to give the Sister Spotlight every Sunday in Relief Society*. I did copious research and came up with some pretty good gossip-one that stands out to me is that one of the girls had sustained a gun shot wound to the buttocks. I usually would tell a story or read some clues and then everyone would have to guess who it was, then I would give them a personalized gift. Once there were some visitors who remarked that they wanted to move into our ward after I gave a girl a guitar, not realizing that I had broken into her house during Sunday School and taken it from her bedroom. Like every high profile ward member, I was a polarizing figure. Many girls told me that Sister Spotlight was the only reason that they went to Relief Society, but I do remember someone saying, right after I was finished, "And now I will give the lesson on reverence, in complete contrast to what just happened."
One Sunday I launched into a particularly juicy Sister Spotlight. I can't even remember exactly what I said, but I laid out tons of salacious details. The girl had once had a death crush on a guy who was too skinny to donate blood. Her retainer fell on another guy's head at an ice skating rink. Some people chuckled nervously, others looked really uncomfortable. Later, the Relief Society President told me, "I thought, 'This time, she's gone too far. I have to stop this!'" However, before she could act, one of my friends realized what was happening and yelled, "You are spotlighting yourself!" Everyone started laughing, relieved.
I was at a party a year later and a girl came up to me and said, "This is going to sound really weird, but I think that I recognize you. I might have visited your ward with my ex-boyfriend. Are you the Sister Spotlight girl?"
* Mormon women's organization.
When I was in a BYU ward, I had to give the Sister Spotlight every Sunday in Relief Society*. I did copious research and came up with some pretty good gossip-one that stands out to me is that one of the girls had sustained a gun shot wound to the buttocks. I usually would tell a story or read some clues and then everyone would have to guess who it was, then I would give them a personalized gift. Once there were some visitors who remarked that they wanted to move into our ward after I gave a girl a guitar, not realizing that I had broken into her house during Sunday School and taken it from her bedroom. Like every high profile ward member, I was a polarizing figure. Many girls told me that Sister Spotlight was the only reason that they went to Relief Society, but I do remember someone saying, right after I was finished, "And now I will give the lesson on reverence, in complete contrast to what just happened."
One Sunday I launched into a particularly juicy Sister Spotlight. I can't even remember exactly what I said, but I laid out tons of salacious details. The girl had once had a death crush on a guy who was too skinny to donate blood. Her retainer fell on another guy's head at an ice skating rink. Some people chuckled nervously, others looked really uncomfortable. Later, the Relief Society President told me, "I thought, 'This time, she's gone too far. I have to stop this!'" However, before she could act, one of my friends realized what was happening and yelled, "You are spotlighting yourself!" Everyone started laughing, relieved.
I was at a party a year later and a girl came up to me and said, "This is going to sound really weird, but I think that I recognize you. I might have visited your ward with my ex-boyfriend. Are you the Sister Spotlight girl?"
* Mormon women's organization.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Dominican Decade Anniversary or In Which I Sadly Realize That I Used To Be Super Fun
I just remembered that it is the tenth anniversary of my study abroad in the Dominican Republic. I was kind of horrified when I realized that my passport had expired and that I had obtained it as an adult. I lost the previous one in London and they still let me back into the United States without it (1999). I've written about the D.R. before, so hopefully this is not too repetitive.
Highlights
* I lived with an alcohol/drug abusing family that didn't give me any food on the weekends when the maid went back to the countryside. I kind of wish that it would happen again, because it was better than Weight Watchers. Once they pressured me into eating liver, because they wanted to enjoy the face of revulsion that I would inevitably make. They kept joyfully exclaiming, "Gringos hate liver!" I also recall several incidents of the dad prancing around the house in tighty whities. Worst host family ever!
* Everyone who went to the salon got the Rachel. Somehow, I decided that it was appropriate to wear the same shades of eyeshadow as the locals, who may or may not have been of a slightly darker skin tone. When I returned, my brothers kept calling me Mimi until I learned my lesson.
* My professor's son fell asleep on the bus and I succeeded in applying a full face of makeup before he woke up.
* Somehow I collected this rank posse of street dogs that followed me to school every day. It expanded even more when one of the dogs randomly dropped a litter. I wish this wasn't before digital cameras, because the pics of it are hilarious.
* Getting into Havana at night and thinking that it was really swanky, then waking up to see peeling paint and a general state of disrepair.
* When I depanced another girl at the airport. Mixed reactions from locals.
* Always wanting to try the bidet in the bathroom, but always succumbing to the fear that I would break it.
* Swimming at a local luxury hotel because the owners thought that it looked posh to have Americans in their pool.
* In Cuba, a guy screamed, "Too much McDonalds!" at a group of us. For days, everyone nervously wondered who he was referring to and how he knew about McDonalds.
* My host mother's 19 inch waist and 57 inch booty.
* One of my neighbors was this massive adolescent everyone called "La Grandota." The kid at my house told me that she came from New York after 9-11 and didn't even know the days of the week in Spanish, so I went to investigate. Somehow this scenario ended up with us giving La Grandota a makeover in my bedroom.
* Our tour guide was a chain smoker named Oscar who told us that there was a city where girls turned into boys (or something like that???). He took some pictures of the group and somehow most of them had a panoramic view of a girl's butt (I will keep her identity secret as she is now a mild mannered housewife).
* NUDE EUROS EVERYWHERE
* Holy War over going out to eat on Sunday in San Juan.
* A group I dubbed, "The girls who talk about love," because they always sat around saying dreamy stuff like, "It's all about the way he treats you... " sigh
* The night when we had a private island and people started skinny dipping while our professor peacefully slumbered. The next day was the only time that I did not take a shower, ever.
* Everyone who was getting it on with Dominicans, Cubans or Colombians. I wish that I had had the foresight to do some discreet camera work, because I'm pretty sure that I could have become a millionaire off "Girls Gone Wild: BYU Study Abroad."
* I have a distant memory of leading games of truth or dare, but I am having a difficult time remembering. Maybe someone can help me out.
* Pretending to be communists in a hotel in Havana.
* Eating Cheetoes, just like I ate french fries in Honduras. I never eat either of those foods in the U.S., but for some reason I get hit by culinary homesickness.
* A lady b-slapping my friend in Haiti when she refused to buy cans of American aid food.
* The fact that I am still friends with a majority of the people in my group. Let's face it, you have to be kind of off to pick that study abroad option in the first place.
I have really fond memories of that period of my life, because I was still really idealistic. I had no reason not to be. I'm not sure which person I would rather be, but I suppose that you can't get away with depancing someone at age 30.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Miss Jill's Compendium of Turn-on Triggers
The other day my friend told me that she met a guy at a YSA conference and she was instantly smitten, because he used the word "reconnoiter."
That gave me the idea to poll some women and to compile a list of people's split second turn ons. For me, I could only think of asking questions, showing interest in my life and offering to help women with heavy luggage (I have spent too much time on subways). Ok, I have been attracted to unibrows in the past, but I seem to be over that. Quite a few of my respondents are already married and one asked that I not share the list with her husband, because none of them applied to him.
FOR THOSE WHO DO NOT READ CAREFULLY, THESE ARE NOT MY RESPONSES. SORRY IF YOU SAID THAT CANNING IS SEXY, BUT I DON'T WANT THAT ATTRIBUTED TO ME
Winner: Attraction to clowns.
Multiple people responded with: Recycling, sense of humor, beards ed. note: gross!, foreign accents (especially British), knowing how to fix a car, pays for you
Highlights:
"My friend helped a woman over some bikes on a bus to make sure she had a seat and I wanted to make out with him RIGHT THEN."
"He started going off on libertarians at dinner and that's when I knew that I wanted to have his baby."
"You know how some people marry for money? I would marry for building skills."
"Argyle sweaters. I gave my brother one for Christmas so he would attract my type of girl."
"Well as for me, I love the nerd. Kind of odd, super intelligent. In the beginning, I liked husband's name because he was really witty and seemed to have zero interest in me. This may imply that typically every guy was into me but it's just not true. But he is the opposite of a player."
"Canning is really sexy. As is bike riding. Not road biking necessarily, but someone who uses a bike to get around." ed. note: I hate people on bikes in cities. They give me road rage
Molly Mormon Answers
Will sit in the front row of church
Giving blessings is sexy. Nothing beats a guy who is worthy to give a blessing.
Miscellaneous
If the person is in a street theater troupe (same person who likes clowns)
Having a job/financially independent (bonus if it's manual labor, food service a close second) ed. note: please make sure that you noticed that this said food service
Nice to people with disabilities
Brings me berries
Give up seat for random woman on metro/anywhere else
Likes opera
Flannel button downs
Jewish comedians
Windsor knots
Tallness
Smelling good and manly
Putting your hand on my back when i walk through a door.
Putting your hands on my face while we're kissing.
Knowing how to cook
Maintaining an orderly filing system
Aqua di gio
Playing the drums
Correct use of your/you're, etc.
Capable hands
Dancing skills ed. note: this is actually a turn off for me
Tips well
Having left the US or travelled
Taste in music
Thanks to everyone who responded to my survey! Please feel free to add anything.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Calithority
If life circumstances pushed me to live in California, I would be very, very happy. I like the west coast. However, I cannot tell you how many times I have heard someone say, "Well, I'm from California, so fill in the blank with an authoritative opinion.
I don't even know what I could say with geographic certainty. I'm from Chicago, so I know how to register dead people to vote? I'm from Chicago, so I know how to get an illegal drivers license?
Things that people from California think that they are experts on:*
1. Earthquakes- All I have to say is that if Miami got hit by a tornado, I wouldn't try to go all Midwesterner on their expletive deleted. and say that it was no big deal.
2. Traffic-I thought it was interesting to note that my hometown and my current city both beat SoCal, although I have never given someone a lecture about traffic.
The top 10 cities for traffic delays in 2009:
1st - (tie) Chicago, Washington, D.C. – 70 hours
3rd - Southern California – 63 hours
4th - Houston – 58 hours
5th - San Francisco-Oakland – 49 hours
6th - (tie) Dallas-Fort Worth, Boston – 48 hours
8th - Atlanta, Seattle – 44 hours
10th - New York- Newark – 42 hours
3. Having good weather-I concede.
4. Mexican food-I can't tell you how many times I have heard people say, "There is no good Mexican food in this city. I am from California, I would know." Yeah, one of my parents is actually from Mexico and I would never call myself an expert. I think that the only place I have ever lived with absolutely NO good Mexican food was Honduras, because they always mixed their nasty cheese into everything. Just go somewhere that looks like it is due for a city sanitation department bust and you should be good.
5. Wearing flip flops in the middle of January when it is snowing-Maybe this is just a BYU thing? Also, wearing board shorts/booty shorts to places that it is inappropriate.
6. Electing actors as governor-I had a long standing crush on Reagan as a child, so this isn't a d-i-s-s-. It keeps autocorrection to "ids," so I had to write it like that.
It is 9:15, good night.
* This is all based on my personal interactions. I have no idea if these are universal.
I don't even know what I could say with geographic certainty. I'm from Chicago, so I know how to register dead people to vote? I'm from Chicago, so I know how to get an illegal drivers license?
Things that people from California think that they are experts on:*
1. Earthquakes- All I have to say is that if Miami got hit by a tornado, I wouldn't try to go all Midwesterner on their expletive deleted. and say that it was no big deal.
2. Traffic-I thought it was interesting to note that my hometown and my current city both beat SoCal, although I have never given someone a lecture about traffic.
The top 10 cities for traffic delays in 2009:
1st - (tie) Chicago, Washington, D.C. – 70 hours
3rd - Southern California – 63 hours
4th - Houston – 58 hours
5th - San Francisco-Oakland – 49 hours
6th - (tie) Dallas-Fort Worth, Boston – 48 hours
8th - Atlanta, Seattle – 44 hours
10th - New York- Newark – 42 hours
3. Having good weather-I concede.
4. Mexican food-I can't tell you how many times I have heard people say, "There is no good Mexican food in this city. I am from California, I would know." Yeah, one of my parents is actually from Mexico and I would never call myself an expert. I think that the only place I have ever lived with absolutely NO good Mexican food was Honduras, because they always mixed their nasty cheese into everything. Just go somewhere that looks like it is due for a city sanitation department bust and you should be good.
5. Wearing flip flops in the middle of January when it is snowing-Maybe this is just a BYU thing? Also, wearing board shorts/booty shorts to places that it is inappropriate.
6. Electing actors as governor-I had a long standing crush on Reagan as a child, so this isn't a d-i-s-s-. It keeps autocorrection to "ids," so I had to write it like that.
It is 9:15, good night.
* This is all based on my personal interactions. I have no idea if these are universal.
Friday, January 6, 2012
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Have these people even read Les Miserables? What's next? Sir Anthony Hopkins on Hangover 3?
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
The Beijingish Nightingale
Don't close your eyes, because you might get confused and think that you are at Sea World at a dolphin show. As someone who hit the apex of her piano talent in 1998, I was so impressed that this little girl can even turn her own pages:
My grandma was an opera singer who allegedly belted out tunes while in labor. Before she died, she made a CD with her greatest hits and gave it to everyone in the family. I listen to it in the car all the time, because I still miss her. However, I was a little bit surprised that someone turned the Gettysburg Address into an aria for mezzo-soprano (track 2).
My grandma was an opera singer who allegedly belted out tunes while in labor. Before she died, she made a CD with her greatest hits and gave it to everyone in the family. I listen to it in the car all the time, because I still miss her. However, I was a little bit surprised that someone turned the Gettysburg Address into an aria for mezzo-soprano (track 2).
Saturday, December 31, 2011
My House On New Year's Eve At 6:40 P.M.
Not the most flattering pics, but none of them read my blog (it is not a Louis L'amour or book about a coach). I wish that I could add audio of the chorus of snoring.
La Fiesta de Baby Troy
All week my mother has been trying to get us to play games with her and every time she asks, everyone just stares into space and pretends like it isn't happening. Sometimes my sister-in-law misunderstands and accidentally answers her. After several days of frustration, she announced that tonight we are having a birthday party for Baby Troy. The party includes playing multiple games and eating an ice cream cake that has been in the freezer since his actual birthday on December 6. Baby Troy's response to the plan was, "You know that we have the best time as a family when we go on laptops and hang out in separate rooms."
Friday, December 30, 2011
2011 Recap/First and Last Emo Post of My Life
Sorry, we are going to the airport so I can't proofread this.
One of my great joys in life comes from scrolling down my Facebook newsfeed on December 31 and reading fifty times, "Fill in the blank year sucked! Welcome 20...This is my year!" I am going to go out on a limb and say that the worst thing that happened to some of those people is not dating.
Noteworthy Events of 2011
My Favorite Movies
Sorry to all of you who are disappointed in me for watching R-rated movies, but at least I am not singing the praises of The Hangover. All of my sinning is educational.
Of Gods and Men
Incendies
I wrote a blogpost about how traumatizing this movie was here. Yes, there is a typo on the word "soothe," but I am too lazy to go in there and fix it. I'm sure if you are a regular reader, you have seen your share of typos.
And the only movie that has ever had me leaning forward, on the edge of my seat:
Too bad I had to keep telling the man next to me to stop loudly translating the movie into Chinese for his girlfriend. I would love to know how he translated "Hufflepuff."
Moved To DC Against My Will
I am one of the most decisive people I have ever met, but that is because I usually get pretty clear divine guidance. The Holy Ghost has told me to do some pretty weird things, like move to Honduras or quit my job in a scathing e-mail, but it has worked out enough that I just do it. In August I got the feeling to apply to schools in DC and the feeling was confirmed when I got a job the same week.
To be honest, I was kind of horrified. I kept succumbing to these melodramatic moments in which I looked out the subway window onto South Brooklyn and sobbed. Ugh, writing this is making me nostalgic. I have liked my job since the first day (the earthquake), but I think that the move was more traumatic for me than I admitted to myself, since I am such a professional transient. Even though it can be a really hard place to live, I loved New York from the first day to the last. I don't think it would be productive to make a list of everything/everyone that I miss, but leaving kind of robbed me of my usual joie de vivre attitude for a while. I was so sad and lonely that I think that I was semi-catatonic until maybe mid-November. Maybe I was finally getting PTSD for everything that happened since I graduated from college. Then I decided that I had let the mourning period go on long enough and snapped out of it. It was actually a pretty cathartic experience and really it is a small price to pay to have more empathy for sadness.
Drivers Licenses
Illinois: January and February
New York: February to September
Virginia: September to December. My Virginia license is so bootleg that not only is my birthday incorrect, but the picture is super bad (they don't let you smile). Maybe the DMV worker should have focused a little more, instead of monologuing me about how her co-worker asks too many questions in staff meeting. The security woman at the airport told me, "This don't look like you," so I showed her my New York license. Sometimes my hair disappears in black and white photos.
Best Television Show
I don't have a tv, so the competition was not very stiff.
My Dad Had Chemo, a Stem-Cell Transplant and An Angioplasty
Hey, as long as I'm writing uncharacteristically depressing stuff... I think that the first time that I really understood the gravity of the situation was when my brother texted me a picture of my other brother sitting with his legs crossed and the caption, "Look who's gay, lol" (ok, some people in my family have meathead tendencies). My dad was sitting behind my brother and his hair was gone. I was so shocked that I started crying on the subway, which seems to be a theme of this post. When the subway is full of break dancers and drunks, no one is fazed by a little emotional breakdown. It was agonizing for me to realize that he wasn't invincible and that we had so little control over the outcome of the procedures. I think up to that point, I never imagined that my family would be affected by something so harrowing. Luckily my parents live by Northwestern and everything has gone as well as possible and many positive things have happened.
I'm not really sure what inspired me to write all that, except that is really some of what happened. I post the funny stuff all the time, so you are already up to speed. 2011 had a lot of great moments and the bad ones had good outcomes, so I have nothing to put in a Facebook status.
Happy New Year!
One of my great joys in life comes from scrolling down my Facebook newsfeed on December 31 and reading fifty times, "Fill in the blank year sucked! Welcome 20...This is my year!" I am going to go out on a limb and say that the worst thing that happened to some of those people is not dating.
Noteworthy Events of 2011
My Favorite Movies
Sorry to all of you who are disappointed in me for watching R-rated movies, but at least I am not singing the praises of The Hangover. All of my sinning is educational.
Of Gods and Men
Incendies
I wrote a blogpost about how traumatizing this movie was here. Yes, there is a typo on the word "soothe," but I am too lazy to go in there and fix it. I'm sure if you are a regular reader, you have seen your share of typos.
And the only movie that has ever had me leaning forward, on the edge of my seat:
Too bad I had to keep telling the man next to me to stop loudly translating the movie into Chinese for his girlfriend. I would love to know how he translated "Hufflepuff."
Moved To DC Against My Will
I am one of the most decisive people I have ever met, but that is because I usually get pretty clear divine guidance. The Holy Ghost has told me to do some pretty weird things, like move to Honduras or quit my job in a scathing e-mail, but it has worked out enough that I just do it. In August I got the feeling to apply to schools in DC and the feeling was confirmed when I got a job the same week.
To be honest, I was kind of horrified. I kept succumbing to these melodramatic moments in which I looked out the subway window onto South Brooklyn and sobbed. Ugh, writing this is making me nostalgic. I have liked my job since the first day (the earthquake), but I think that the move was more traumatic for me than I admitted to myself, since I am such a professional transient. Even though it can be a really hard place to live, I loved New York from the first day to the last. I don't think it would be productive to make a list of everything/everyone that I miss, but leaving kind of robbed me of my usual joie de vivre attitude for a while. I was so sad and lonely that I think that I was semi-catatonic until maybe mid-November. Maybe I was finally getting PTSD for everything that happened since I graduated from college. Then I decided that I had let the mourning period go on long enough and snapped out of it. It was actually a pretty cathartic experience and really it is a small price to pay to have more empathy for sadness.
Drivers Licenses
Illinois: January and February
New York: February to September
Virginia: September to December. My Virginia license is so bootleg that not only is my birthday incorrect, but the picture is super bad (they don't let you smile). Maybe the DMV worker should have focused a little more, instead of monologuing me about how her co-worker asks too many questions in staff meeting. The security woman at the airport told me, "This don't look like you," so I showed her my New York license. Sometimes my hair disappears in black and white photos.
Best Television Show
I don't have a tv, so the competition was not very stiff.
My Dad Had Chemo, a Stem-Cell Transplant and An Angioplasty
Hey, as long as I'm writing uncharacteristically depressing stuff... I think that the first time that I really understood the gravity of the situation was when my brother texted me a picture of my other brother sitting with his legs crossed and the caption, "Look who's gay, lol" (ok, some people in my family have meathead tendencies). My dad was sitting behind my brother and his hair was gone. I was so shocked that I started crying on the subway, which seems to be a theme of this post. When the subway is full of break dancers and drunks, no one is fazed by a little emotional breakdown. It was agonizing for me to realize that he wasn't invincible and that we had so little control over the outcome of the procedures. I think up to that point, I never imagined that my family would be affected by something so harrowing. Luckily my parents live by Northwestern and everything has gone as well as possible and many positive things have happened.
I'm not really sure what inspired me to write all that, except that is really some of what happened. I post the funny stuff all the time, so you are already up to speed. 2011 had a lot of great moments and the bad ones had good outcomes, so I have nothing to put in a Facebook status.
Happy New Year!
The Bizarro Miss Jill
This is going to be a weird post, since I just discussed my hatred of chick flicks. This video has been making the rounds lately:
First, I think that the parents probably coached this girl. Second, she would have been my arch-nemesis in the eighties. Anything associated with being a boy was right up there with The Black Cauldron on my list of childhood horrors.
1. I hated wearing pants.
2. I refused to wear my hair in a ponytail* because I thought that people might see me from the front and get confused.
3. My sister Jr. always had to be the boy when we played. She is not very masculine either, but I had seniority.
4. I liked when the Young Women's activity was makeovers. Women always complain about how the boys got to do these awesome wilderness adventures, but my sister and I even did makeovers during free time at Girl's Camp. Then we took it to a whole new level by constantly turning my little brother Ty into a girl (when my dad wasn't home)-I even lovingly curled his hair.
5. Not only did I play with dolls as a child, but I still buy dolls from foreign countries. They are widely reviled. In our house, the Barbies always starred in epic dramas like The Ten Commandments.
6. My dad futilely tried to make us jocks by signing us up for every sport possible, but we always pretended to be sick to get out of it.
Everyone is saying "you go girl" to this video, but I don't think that gender is foisted upon us through a conspiracy by Hasbro or the media. Nobody is going to stop a parent from buying a superhero for a girl or a doll for a boy. They advertise like that because it works.
* This began when my pediatrician said, "I know that your sister is a girl, we are going to have to check with you." I was in first grade and my hair was so long that I could sit on it. Thanks, Dr. Sheade, I still don't really wear ponytails.
First, I think that the parents probably coached this girl. Second, she would have been my arch-nemesis in the eighties. Anything associated with being a boy was right up there with The Black Cauldron on my list of childhood horrors.
1. I hated wearing pants.
2. I refused to wear my hair in a ponytail* because I thought that people might see me from the front and get confused.
3. My sister Jr. always had to be the boy when we played. She is not very masculine either, but I had seniority.
4. I liked when the Young Women's activity was makeovers. Women always complain about how the boys got to do these awesome wilderness adventures, but my sister and I even did makeovers during free time at Girl's Camp. Then we took it to a whole new level by constantly turning my little brother Ty into a girl (when my dad wasn't home)-I even lovingly curled his hair.
5. Not only did I play with dolls as a child, but I still buy dolls from foreign countries. They are widely reviled. In our house, the Barbies always starred in epic dramas like The Ten Commandments.
6. My dad futilely tried to make us jocks by signing us up for every sport possible, but we always pretended to be sick to get out of it.
Everyone is saying "you go girl" to this video, but I don't think that gender is foisted upon us through a conspiracy by Hasbro or the media. Nobody is going to stop a parent from buying a superhero for a girl or a doll for a boy. They advertise like that because it works.
* This began when my pediatrician said, "I know that your sister is a girl, we are going to have to check with you." I was in first grade and my hair was so long that I could sit on it. Thanks, Dr. Sheade, I still don't really wear ponytails.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Wasting Your Life Away Watching Boring People Fall in Love
One of my friends decided that the easiest way to get published was to write a chick lit book, so she read "Something Borrowed" as inspiration. Ladies, really? I feel the same way about romantic comedies. I watched 27 Dresses with my sister-in-law today and I found myself jealous of her limited English comprehension. I was going to make a New Year's resolution to stop watching movies in which you are faced to accept that life is an endless exercise in futility (as demonstrated by civil war, abandonment and the destruction of everything you hold dear), but the experience helped me to realize that I was actually on the right track all along.
Things I Hate About Chick Flicks
1. Girls Suddenly Get Hot By Putting in Contacts or Brushing Their Hair I would rather wear headgear than put in contacts, but I continue using them. I suspect that I watched too many questionable movies as a teen.
2. One night stands turn into true love- I'm not going to pretend that this never happens (and some success stories read this blog), but I think that it is rare. I think that there are a lot of men who will booty call girls that they would never have a relationship with and that causes all sorts of problems. The only girl I have ever met who didn't get emotionally involved after getting physical was a self-diagnosed nympho.
3. Comic Relief by the Annoying, Wisecracking Sidekick Who is Obese or Looks Like Kathy Griffin
4. They Make Women My Age or Older Get Crushes on Guys Born in 1992 (That's you, Team Jacob PTA Moms)
5. After a Night of Drunken Karaoke, You Realize That the Creepy Guy From Your Department is Your Soul Mate
6. Anything In Which the Heroine Runs Away From Her Problems to Exotic Lands Between us, as a nomad, I am going to have to tell you that your problems follow you, unless you figure out how to identify and to break your self-destructive patterns. Eat, Pray, Love is bad for society.
7. Declaring Love On a Megaphone, Microphone or With the School Band- I'm sorry, but if you decided to declare your love to someone you were not dating, would you really do it in a football stadium? My sister and I have both received declarations of love via text message, which is cowardly, but prudent. In my case, he was in the same room.
8. An Entry Level Administrative Assistant Can Afford a Two Bedroom on the Upper West Side
9. Running To the Airport and Stopping a Plane-I'm sure that most of you have been fondled in a post-9/11 airport, so I don't feel the need to elaborate.
10. They Make You Stupider*- I'm not saying that all of your time should be devoted to watching Ted Talks on youtube, but at least find something to do that will not irreparably destroy your understanding of relationships and society.
* Yeah, I know. Not changing that.
Things I Hate About Chick Flicks
1. Girls Suddenly Get Hot By Putting in Contacts or Brushing Their Hair I would rather wear headgear than put in contacts, but I continue using them. I suspect that I watched too many questionable movies as a teen.
2. One night stands turn into true love- I'm not going to pretend that this never happens (and some success stories read this blog), but I think that it is rare. I think that there are a lot of men who will booty call girls that they would never have a relationship with and that causes all sorts of problems. The only girl I have ever met who didn't get emotionally involved after getting physical was a self-diagnosed nympho.
3. Comic Relief by the Annoying, Wisecracking Sidekick Who is Obese or Looks Like Kathy Griffin
4. They Make Women My Age or Older Get Crushes on Guys Born in 1992 (That's you, Team Jacob PTA Moms)
5. After a Night of Drunken Karaoke, You Realize That the Creepy Guy From Your Department is Your Soul Mate
6. Anything In Which the Heroine Runs Away From Her Problems to Exotic Lands Between us, as a nomad, I am going to have to tell you that your problems follow you, unless you figure out how to identify and to break your self-destructive patterns. Eat, Pray, Love is bad for society.
7. Declaring Love On a Megaphone, Microphone or With the School Band- I'm sorry, but if you decided to declare your love to someone you were not dating, would you really do it in a football stadium? My sister and I have both received declarations of love via text message, which is cowardly, but prudent. In my case, he was in the same room.
8. An Entry Level Administrative Assistant Can Afford a Two Bedroom on the Upper West Side
9. Running To the Airport and Stopping a Plane-I'm sure that most of you have been fondled in a post-9/11 airport, so I don't feel the need to elaborate.
10. They Make You Stupider*- I'm not saying that all of your time should be devoted to watching Ted Talks on youtube, but at least find something to do that will not irreparably destroy your understanding of relationships and society.
* Yeah, I know. Not changing that.
Monday, December 26, 2011
In Which Miss Jill Would Survive an INS Crackdown
I have been hearing for years that the US citizenship test prohibitively difficult, so as the child of an immigrant, I wanted to try my hand:
US Citizenship Test
Ok, the only way that this test is difficult is if you don't know English. You only have to figure out 60% of the questions to pass-I think I could do that in any romance language. Maybe I'm being snobby, but "What ocean is on the east coast?" Come on.
US Citizenship Test
Ok, the only way that this test is difficult is if you don't know English. You only have to figure out 60% of the questions to pass-I think I could do that in any romance language. Maybe I'm being snobby, but "What ocean is on the east coast?" Come on.
Sunday, December 25, 2011
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