Monday, October 31, 2011


I like animals. Not only am I big fan of the cute and fuzzy talking Disney creations, but I also like real animals as well. I've seen sea turtles out in the wild and it was the most amazing experience of my life. I like going to zoos. I'm so grateful that my Heavenly Father has provided such amazing and diverse animals for us, his children, to enjoy.

I also really like shelters that keep animals outside. Yes I like animals, but I don't like them near me. And truthfully I'm not too keen on reptiles, they freak me out more than a little, and I really think that this world could do without snakes.

If you don't have pets and never want to get pets or be in houses with pets people automatically equate this fact with you being an evil person. The fact that I do not want a pet and think its gross to have them in my house does not make me a bad person. I personally just think that animals are not clean, and don't like petting or sitting on furniture that people's pets have occupied. In fact, I feel an almost desperate need to immediately take a shower and wash my clothes after doing so. I don't understand why people let their dogs or cats sit on the couch, let alone sleep in their bed with them. I don't equate these pet policies with the pet owner being evil though, but the pet owner, when they find out I'm not particularly fond of "Sparky" or "Fluffy," tends to assume that I am a horrible person.

Because pet owners seem to make up the vast majority of society, and people do not take kindly to me when they discover my views about animals, I have taken to hiding my views about pets from most people. Sometimes I feel like I'm hiding some horribly grotesque secret, and yet its not. Its perfectly normal and its not hurting anyone. I'll still pet your dog and even let you cat climb into my lap while I'm over at your house, but I'm completely outside of my comfort zone when I do this.

One thing that I absolutely cannot abide is when people treat their pets (it seems to happen more often with dogs than other types of animals) as children. Its a sickening and grotesque practice. That is way more disturbing than my desire to keep pets outside. I think that pets are good for people who are lonely and need a friend and a companion or even someone to look after. But pets are not people, and they should not be treated as such.

As I am now revealing my true feelings, it should also be said that inspirational animal posters are not cute or inspiring. On the contrary they are creepy. A while back, my coworker knew I was having a bad day, (and obviously not having shared with her my views about animals) she sent me a picture of a cat to cheer me up. I've provided the link (here: so that you will be able to see why I was disturbed, rather than comforted (although this picture is doubly disturbing because of the bad grammar.) Her misguided attempt to cheer me up did not go unappreciated though because I did find it sweet of her to trying to make a bad day better.

I just want people to know that I am not an animal hater..(I'm just an animal-avoider)...Just to prove that I am not an animal hater I will provide a more extensive list of animals I like:
-Animal from the Muppets (although truthfully, not my favorite Muppet, far from it).
-animal crackers
-stuffed animals (the toys not the taxidermied kind)
-'Animal' the song by Neon Trees

See, I'm not a hater, I just am extremely picky in what I like.

Monday, October 24, 2011

Shopping PTSD?

I suffer from a serious affliction: I cannot find things in stores.

The way that grocery stores are configured is especially confusing. I'm a pro at finding staples such as bread and milk, but when I need to purchase something that is not something I normally use, like say, corn syrup, its never where I suppose it to be (really grocery stockers, you placed it by the maple syrup?!). In instances such as these, the item in question is literally in the last place I look, only because it is the LAST possible place to look.

Some might call it stupidity but I feel that I am a highly intelligent person. Thus, although my affliction will not be found in the DSM-IV, I feel like it is a great oversight that the DSM-IV does not include the inability to find things in stores, ever.

This affliction is enhanced by the fact that the staff are never available when I need them, typically passing by before I am looking for the elusive item on my list (and I am definitely not a plan ahead type girl. Also, despite recognizing that I have this inability to find things in stores, I am in deep denial of this fact and always think that this time I will be able to find it). Or more likely. I fail to ask the employees where an item is located when they do happen to pass because of my crippling fear of people (its a rough life I lead, but some of the employees are grumpy or scary looking or both...). This means that I spend a great deal of time at stores searching for random items placed in even more random places throughout the store.

Yesterday, I decided to immerse myself in a shopping trip in search of several odd items needed to help create my awesome Halloween costume. The trip was successful in that I found the items I was looking for. It was less successful when looked at from a productive-use of time point of view. I wandered up and down the aisles multiple times, walked across the store, walked back across the store wandered the aisles again and so forth because along with my inability to locate items in the store, I also have a terrible memory and kept remembering stuff that I needed to pick up and then I had to go locate the problem.

Despite these stressful afflictions of lackluster finding skills and a poor memory, I'm pretty good at keeping cool under pressure. I'm also an expert at giving up, so I don't get too down about leaving empty handed...because obviously I have bigger issues to deal with than finding ALL of the ingredients for a new recipe I wanted to try out

Wednesday, October 19, 2011


If you think you are funny, you probably aren't. Confesssion: I think I am funny.

Putting a giant flower/bow on your infant's head tells me that your child is so ugly that you felt the need to put that gaudy monstrosity on your child to draw attention away from its face.

LOL is an acronym that is used far too often. I think that as a society we need to cut back our usage. And by this I mean everyone needs to STOP USING IT RIGHT NOW!! I die a little inside each time time I hear or read those three little letters. Nobody in their right mind has ever said to someone that they are "laughing out loud" so therefore it is not appropriate to use the acronym for this never-used phrase.

"Bless You's" are not universally applied. I have been in classrooms or in the work environment where when one individual sneezes someone responds with the customary "bless you," but ten minutes later I'll sneeze and I get no such courtesy. It happens people. I'm missing out on these blessings because for some unknown reason when I sneeze people rarely follow social graces and say something after I sneeze.

Showering is not just something you do to take care of yourself. Its really a gift for the people around you. Think about that court patrons.

"Your" and "You're" are two different words. Many people in society fail to recognize this though, so I am often confused why I get invitations saying "Your invited." My what is invited?Grammar is important.

Texting and Facebook have made people into socially ignoramuses (bonus observation: that was a fun word to use.) While I do use both, they frustrate me so I try to limit their use. I want to form real connections with people face to face, not via a screen! Although I say this, the real interactions that I do have are abysmally disappointing and sometimes frightening, and make texting and Facebook more appealing. Its a real catch-22.

Guys aren't actually like the ones portrayed in books and movies.

You can be psychic when your roommate is a flaky person and always canceling plans with you.

Bumper stickers are lame, but a good warning about people you don't want to hang out with


Argyle is probably the best design ever.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011


I have an identical twin! My twin's name is Stacy and yes she is very good looking. She's also two years older than me, and not actually my twin. Apparently we are dead ringers for each other, well at least according to Joe Q. Public (who just sees that we have the same hair color and are the same height, so he concludes that we are in fact the same person).

Growing up in the same-size shadow of my sister I resented her because people always confused our identities. It was bad enough growing up with four sisters and being used to being called "Ja-Kri-Jul-Sta-Allison" by my parents...but my parents at least knew that I was the fifth child, even though they had a hard time remembering my name. Having people in the neighborhood calling me by my sister's name was thus beyond irritating. When I went to college I was excited to forge a new identity, but alas my sister also went to that school and I did have a passerby on campus call me "Stacy."

After graduation I got a job in Salt Lake, where my sister also lived. I figured that living in this big of a city, rather than the small town where we went to school, would help me to have my own identity as Allison, and not Stacy. Alas, I inadvertently moved into the same ward as my sister, and am not known as Allison OR Stacy, but as "Stacy's sister."

This "big" city has once more proved that I am destined forever to be known by my sister's name. Today at the grocery store, a pint-sized voice behind me called, "Hi, Stacy." Because 99% of the time people calling me by that name are indeed referring to me, my Pavlovian response was to turn and see who was talking. A young girl around 4 or 5 years old was indeed talking to me. My sister was a preschool teacher, and I'm assuming that this girl was one of her former students.

Because it is often easier for me just to assume my sister's identity for five seconds and say "hi" back, that is what I did. But then the girl kept walking by the aisle with a new greeting for me each time.

I'm not going to lie, it is still extremely irritating to be confused with my sister. Especially because I apparently can't avoid it. This instance was so unexpected and outlandish that it is slightly amusing as well.

There is some good out of having a "twin" though. If I ever decide to revert to a life of crime, I know who I am going to frame...

Saturday, October 15, 2011

By Gum, I Think Its Gum!

My sophomore year of college I lived with my cousin and four other girls. On at least five separate occasions I walked into our small kitchen to find chewed green gum on the linoleum. The first time it was lying near the trash can. Disgustedly, I armed myself with a paper towel and disposed of the nasty thing. The next four times I encountered the chewed up gum, the story played out the same, although sometimes the gum was in the middle of the room, far away from the trash can. As much as I love cleaning up after my roommates, I felt that this was a recurring problem and it was vital to happiness and sanity that the gum situation be stopped.

Amazingly, the first roommate I confronted was the culprit (and by the by, it was NOT my cousin, she was as affronted by these disgusting discoveries as I was). My roommate told me that it wasn't like she was purposely leaving the gum on the floor. Inwardly rolling my eyes (its kind of hard to understand the instance happening that many times, and finding the gum in the MIDDLE of the room simply as an accident....), I responded that she just needed to be more careful when throwing her gum away because I didn't appreciate having to pick it up for her. I think I found her used gum one more time, but considering how often I had found her gum, I consider this a success. Needless to say, I did not live with this roommate for longer than one school year.

You may be wondering why, at least 3 years later, that I am bringing it up again. First of all, I am still scarred by the event. Secondly, I just found a chewed up piece of gum in my current apartment's bathroom. Either this is a common problem among gum-chewing adults, or I am just a magnet for these types of people. I'm inclined to believe that it is the latter....

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

My New Favorite Thing

I love pizza. Its always been one of my favorite foods, and working at a gourmet pizza restaurant one summer during college, as well as eating it a ton as a poor, busy college student, I would also consider myself a pizza aficionado. Pizza is amazing because it is so versatile; I really think I could eat it for every meal for the rest of my life and be content. No, more than content: happy, ecstatic even.

As often as I consume this glorious food, I have never owned a pizza cutter. When I make homemade pizza, or cook a frozen pie, I usually just hack the thing into slices with a knife.

Well, this neanderthal pizza cutting method is out because now I have THIS:

Yes, this pizza cutter looks like a power saw. I've never regretted not having a pizza cutter, but when I saw this little beauty, it was love at first sight. Its funny and quirky and awesome, and now I have a new excuse to eat pizza!

Honestly when I first saw it I thought that it would be a great gift for my dad because he's a tool guy...but he doesn't really cook and I do. Maybe I'll buy a twin pizza cutter for him anyways though, because really who wouldn't want one of these?

Monday, October 10, 2011

Befriending the Friendless

So, the Home Evening Leaders in my ward did something pretty callous. They had the girls divide up in teams and then the girls picked which boys to have on their teams. I felt so bad for the boys. I would have been mortified! The boys who were picked last were the ones you'd expect if you've ever attended the torture known as P.E.

At the activity I made a concerted effort to talk to, and be friendly to, the boy who was picked last, because that's what I would have wanted someone to do for me if I had been in his shoes. Also, I've been feeling like I have no friends and so I've been thinkng that instead of wishing for someone to talk to me, I would take the initiative and be the first to speak to people.

Turns out taking the initiative is about as fruitful at making friends as sitting around waiting for a friend. The guy was socially awkward (surprisingly, even more so than me) and the conversation was brief. This, unfortunately, is not a unique experience. I've been trying for a long time to extend myself in this ward and while everyone is nice, they are not very friendly (example: will engage in small talk with you if you speak to them directly, but will not remember you name, and sometimes even your face, or any details about yourself the next time that you see them).

I don't regret being nice and for being the first one to speak, but I'm getting sick of it. I feel like I'm the only one trying to reach out to others. No one else even seems to be making an effort, they are all too complacent and comfortable within their own circle of friends.

And if the guy who is picked last won't even give me the time of day, then what does that say about me?!!

Roommate Acts as if She Lives Alone: A Dramatic Play in Two Acts


The Scene: It was a dark and stormy night (literally). A small apartment near downtown Salt Lake City where three young women live is the focus of this story. Roommate S is at the computer in the corner of the living room.

Enter: Allison returning home from a night of being ignored at her ward Family Home Evening.

Allison: "Hey S, how's it going.....?" (The end of the sentence trailing off as Allison realizes what her roommate is wearing: A blue t-shirt, and ONLY a blue t-shirt, which her roommate has pulled down to cover her posterior.)

S: "Good"

S exits stage right, down the hall and into her bedroom, pulling down her t-shirt as she walks. Allison avoids eye contact, and in fact turns head to avoid looking in that unpleasant direction.

The scene: It is now two months later and Allison's lease is finally up and she is living anywhere else.


Ok, it's not Shakespeare, but I think that the final act is brilliant. It nearly brought me to tears thinking about it.

Friday, October 7, 2011

Web of Lies

Today is my roommate H's birthday. Last night she invited me to go to a movie with her and her boyfriend and my other roommate S. Fortunately I was able to avoid this awkward social situation because I had an institute class.
Around 11:30 pm, decked out in my pj's, with a head full of soft purple curlers, H knocked on my door. Embarrassed because of my appearanc I reluctantly opened the door. H informed me that her family was coming over, and that she was going to tell them that I had gone with her and S to the movie instead of H's boyfriend. This is odd, but not as odd as it may seem, as H is an international student from India and is secretly dating a man whom her family would not approve of. Actually they are quite traditional, and would not approve of dating anyone.
I stared confusedly at H as she informed me of this and wondered if she really thought that I would rush out to the living room as soon as her family arrived (unexpectedly, and unwelcomed) that late at night and tell her family all about the wonderful night H had enjoyed with her secret boyfriend. I felt like her informing me of this was unncessary becauseI don't particularly like my roommates and have resorted to living as a hermit in my room to avoid them. Thus I am the last person who is going to go out in the living room and chat up her family and drop the boyfriend bomb on them. And yet she felt the need to search me out, afraid that I might reveal her secret.
She really needn't have worried though, and not just because I've become a hermit, but also because I'm really an eighty year old at heart and go to bed really early (and when she informed me that her family was coming over it was all I could do to keep my crotchety 'but its so late' remarks to myself).
I also wondered why I had to be dragged into the web of lies at all? Why not just omit the boyfriend and just tell them she had gone to the movie with S? Why did my name have to be brought up at all? Actually I've been wondering ever since I was first informed of her secret boyfriend why she didn't just rip off the metaphorical band-aid and save herself all the grief that it takes her to conceal her boyfriend. Especially since her family tends to drop by unexpectedly and her boyfriend apparently dislikes having to hide when the family shows up at H's door (which I find completely odd....NOT!). I understand that it would make her family upset, but she told me that she has no intention of ever having an arranged marriage like her mother and sister would like her to have, and she flat out told me that she doesn't like Indian guys. I doubt that these prefences are likely to change, and as it has started to adversely affect my life, I really think she should just tell the truth and let the cards fall where they may.
I was too tired to give any sort of intelligent response to H when she knocked on my door last night, so my people-pleasing pathology forced out an "ok" and I slowly closed the door on her. We haven't really discussed it, but I'm not going to lie for her. I'm not going to purposely reveal her secret, but I am definitely not comfortable with all the subterfuge, especially if she wants to use me as an alibi, or even worse if she decides to ask me to hide her boyfriend in my room like apparently the last roommate did for her (um, that is NOT going to happen EVER!!).
H just seems to have a special talent for making me feel like a jerk, because I feel like a huge one now, and I didn't do anything except for cower under my sexy curlers and gawp at her strange request.
Move out date t-minus four months. Sigh. I only hope I last that long, she is driving my crazy!

Thursday, October 6, 2011

Such Great Heights

My roommate mentioned how sometimes you need to tread lightly with some short people because they can be sensitive about being short. I felt like she was leaving out another special group of people that are often overlooked in society (although not literally overlooked like short people sometimes are, because tall people stick out like sore thumbs). Yes, the group to which I am referring to, and to which I belong, is tall people. I have issues with my height, but society doesn't deem it necessary to tread lightly when dealing with me, as they do with those individuals with Napoleon complexes.

As a member of this exclusive club which only passes its genes on to their own children (we’re selfish like that…) I can attest that we are indeed looked up to. Which is great in theory, but then the looking up becomes staring and then gawking. Which is just awkward, and let’s face it girl in the public library who gawked at me with your mouth formed in a perfect “O,” just rude. Tall people have feelings too, and being stared at in this manner is a crushing blow to one's already fragile self-esteem.

Also, tall people have a greater chance of bumping our heads, such as when we are entering or exiting cars, or while passing through low doorways, injuries which are easier for short people to avoid. Its a hard life we tall people lead.

We are often asked to retrieve items on tall shelves for vertically challenged people. So, you should just feel sorry for us no matter what, because we are stared at, we are at higher risk of a head injury (probably even more so than a football player because football players get to leave the field, but I’ll never stop being tall) and having to retrieve items for short people is pretty much just the same as telling me that I have only slightly more value and purpose in this life as a chair or step stool.

Also, as the voice for tall single women, you should feel especially sorry for us because A) everyone assumes we played basketball even though it is fairly obvious that some of us can barely walk without causing physical harm to her person, and thus are not coordinated enough to have ever played sports (ahem...not that that bears any resemblance to me, I loved to make all of those touchdowns when I played basketball in high school), and B) apparently tall guys like to feel especially tall as they all seem to go after the girls who are only considered tall enough to ride roller coasters when they are wearing their six inch heels.

I like being tall. I just don't like how everyone around me is so much shorter...Personally I attribute my height to being a more evolved person. Some of my former roommates weren't too keen on this scientifically proven fact, but that could just be due to the fact that they are less evolved than me.