I Say Potato...

I guess I need to work on my communication skills.

Last night my home teacher called and asked if he could stop by sometime. I was super excited because my home teachers haven't come in probably a year and a half, and even then it was just the one time. I haven't had consistent home teachers for probably about three years now. So of course I said, "yes" and he decided to come by tonight.

As I walked into my front room after work, my roommate H was sitting in the living room doing her homework on her laptop. I told her that I just wanted to give her a heads up, that I would be having a few people from my church over a little later to come visit me. She responded by telling me that I didn't need to ask permission, since I live here too.

um....I fail to see how my trying to give her a heads up about my need for the living room to be unoccupied and cleaned up could be construed as my asking her permission...but as is my policy in most situations I held my tongue to avoid a long, drawn-out, typically pointless conversation.

The good news though is that my home teacher came and the room had been cleaned up, so even though H probably thinks I'm an idiot for 'asking permission' things worked out fine.

One Tough Turkey

Fortunately this Thanksgiving post is not about terrible food which has been the topic of my most recent blog posts. Rather it is about an absolutely amazing book.

I love children's books. My mom would take my sisters and I on weekly pilgrimages to the city library, and we would come home with out arms laden with books. One of my favorite books was "One Tough Turkey" by Steven Kroll. It's a humorous take on the first Thanksgiving. I remember my Mom reading this book to us...it never got old or boring. I think that that is the ultimate test of a great book: you can read or listen to it a thousand times over and its just as good as the first time you read it. And even though you know what is going to happen, you still experience those moments of anxiety, happiness, sadness, and anger that you felt when you first heard the story. "One Tough Turkey" is definitely such a book.

Thanksgiving doesn't seem to have quite the market on good books, music, and television specials, and movies as Christmas does...but it does have "One Tough Turkey" which is so amazing that it more than makes up for this fact.

I'm grateful for a mother who read to me and fostered a love of reading in me. I still love to listen to my mom read stories to me.

Dressing and Why it is Dis-gust-ing

Dressing is not all bad. I personally think that people should be fully dressed the majority of the time. (I especially think that my roommate should be fully dressed when she's hanging out in my living room, but alas, this situation has yet to be remedied).

Dressing as in stuffing as in Thanksgiving dinner trimmings is bad though. Its REALLY bad. As in one-of-the-worst-things-that-could-possibly-ever-be-made bad.

I love Thanksgiving. I love the warm, fuzzy feelings it emotes, and the family get-together, and I especially love the food. I love it all...turkey, yams, rolls, mashed potatoes, gravy...yum...although I have two major exceptions: Orange Jell-o with carrots, and dressing. (Also, I'm not the biggest fan of the jellied cranberries, I hate marshmallows on my yams, and then there were the two tragical years when one aunt brought cheese-whiz filled celery, and when another aunt used rancid shortening to make her pies...but these are all beside the point.)

I don't see any redeeming qualities about Thanksgiving dressing. It's soggy bread, soggy celery, and other soggy, unidentifiable items (which being unidentifiable makes it in and of itself undesirable). The taste AND the texture are both vices and unlike the carroty jell-o it isn't funny.

For now I guess its just something nasty that I'll have to keep passing off to the rest of my family.

I do have to say that one of the biggest benefits of being an adult is that you get to load your OWN plate with your own portion sizes and own choices of entrees and thus never get stuck sitting at the table for hours after everyone has left it staring at nasty soggy dressing that your parents want to you eat---don't they realize its even less edible two hours later than it was when it was first placed on the table?! (not that it was ever edible in the first place though...).

Orange Jell-o

So, in honor of Thanksgiving this week, I thought I'd write about it because it is one of my favorite holidays. Just think in just a few days the table will be covered with turkey, yams, mashed potatoes, homemade rolls, pumpkin pie, and orange jell-o with carrots.

Yes, orange jello with carrots. Don't ask me why, I don't have a clue why it shows up at Thanksgiving dinner. I'm not the biggest fan of jell-o, but I'll eat it on occasion. I'll even choke down less desirable flavors like, oh, say orange, if only to promote family harmony. But I draw the line at eating already nasty jell-o when stuff is added to it. Even bananas and other fruits in jell-o, which by all accounts makes more sense to show up in jell-o than carrots or other vegetables, makes jell-o less appealing to me than it already is.

I am not a fan of jell-o, and apparently neither is the rest of my family because year after year my grandmother's infamous Thanksgiving jello goes pretty much untouched.

I really don't understand the carrots and orange jell-o combination. The only thing I can think of is because they are the same color, but that explanation pretty much defies all logic...although at a funeral luncheon in my home ward someone was kind enough to bring in green jell-o with celery and green olives, so that gives some support to my color theory. This story also helps me to feel better about my own family's jell-o quirks, because orange jell-o with carrots is soooooo much better than the green veggie variety.


Its become a little joke in out family about the re-appearing jello. Seriously
Family, stop taking pity servings of the stuff so that Grandma will STOP making it!!

Actually this year we are not going to my grandparents for Thanksgiving and I think that I am going to be sad if there's not any jell-o.

Up Next: Dressing and why it is dis-gust-ing. Blech

Chapped Lips, Chapstick, and Things Like Chemistry

Hi, my name is Allison, and I'm an addict. I use probably more than twenty times a day--and that's probably on the low side. I've been using all my life, but it didn't develop into a full-blown addiction until late high school. My 'drug' of choice is chapstick.

Whew. That feels good to get off my chest...but honestly I probably have bought half of the Chapstick Executives Spanish villas. My old roommate would make fun of me, because I'd always have at least two chapstick tubes under my pillow, and another couple hiding elusively under the bed, only to appear when she was there to laugh at me.

I love chapstick, and its not an exaggeration to say that when I forget my chapstick that I'm in for a bad day (Seriously, why don't they stock vending machines with something useful, like, oh, I don't know...chapstick?)

My love has also been made manifest in blog posts (not including this one) and poetry--both were for school assignments, but I chose the topic.

I've joked about having a chapstick addiction before, but today was the first time that I thought that it might actually be true. You see, my habit has become so bad that I have built up a tolerance to the blue-tubed variety of Chapstick. I'm not joking. I've had to move on to harder stuff because my normal go-to brand of Chapstick is no longer cutting it.

Nivea products are now my drug of choice--but although the relieving 'high' it produces is awesome, I miss my old blue-tubed friends. The Nivea tube is too fat to fit comfortably in the pockets of my pants. Also, the cap is longer, so it's less enjoyable to snap on and off (and I'm beginning to realize that I had a behavioral addiction associated with my Chapstick: I used to snap the cap on and off, on and off, and with my new Nivea product my hands don't know what to do with themselves). Also, the flavor is a bit off--it's just not the same. Sigh.

And now you must excuse me, because during the fifteen minutes it has taken me to write this blog post, my lips have become excruciatingly dry, and I guess its time for my 'fix.'

Sitcoms, Soap Operas, and Telenovelas

In a brief conversation with a coworker today, she commented that her life was like a soap opera. I jokingly asked if it wasn't actually a Spanish Novela. She laughed and responded that her life was a soap opera, and that another coworker who was walking towards us was the one living a telenovela. All three of us had a good laugh over that, but in reality they both have a lot of drama in their lives, and there was truth in the conversation.

Thinking about their television-like lives, I began to wonder where my life would fall in TV Guide. I think that I would classify my life as a sitcom. But not a vulgar one like is so common on TV today, nor one with a cheesy laugh track. I'm thinking my life would be sort of like the 'Cosby Show', but funnier, and less cheesy, and with better wardrobe.

What I really would like the TV show of my life to be like is 'Psych'or 'Scrubs' but I guess I'm not as goofy as Shawn and Gus or Turk and J.D., or perhaps I just haven't found the right companion yet to do goofy, crazy stuff with...

Anyways, my life is like a sitcom because there are problems that arise constantly, but not a lot of drama. Things are usually resolved after a few episodes. I've been really blessed in my life, and although I've had trials, some of which are still not resolved, overall, my drama can be laughed away.

My life is also like a sitcom because there's a lot of humor, and even more failed attempts at humor (that totally fits me!).

Although I don't have a theme song, I love Kronk from 'The Emperor's New Groove' and it has always been on my to-do list to come up with my own theme song. Also, I usually always have a song stuck in my head, and bonus, about .999999% of the time it is the perfect song, fitting perfectly with what is happening. So I think that more than qualifies as a soundtrack.


I also have constant inner dialogue, similar to documentary style interviews conducted on shows like 'The Office.'

Although I think my sitcom is pretty awesome, my sitcom life will probably never win an Emmy, so I'll have to write my speech here:

"I love being a sitcom, and I know that the reason why my life is lacking in serious soap opera type drama is because I've been taught correct principles and have made covenants that keep me safe from the heartache and frustration that those living soap-opera type lives endure.

"There have been so many people who have made my sitcom a success, and many supporting actors who are far funnier than I will ever be, so because there are too many thank, I would just like to unthank a few people: you know who you are."

I Almost Bought an I-Phone

I've held out on buying a smartphone because I'm super cheap. I think that cell phones and phone plans in general are pricey, and that the phone companies have a huge profit margin and they rip people off. Even worse they get away with it because they have created a product that most people feel like they cannot live without. Smartphones have all of these same problems but on a whole different exponentially-multiplied level.

So despite the fact that I will never own a smartphone because they are overpriced and people who own them are super annoying, and texting is quickly becoming the bane of my existence, if I had a fairly godmother who decided to give me an I-phone paid for my phone bills, then who am I to reject such a generous gift?


As in most cases though, people who deserve special things like I-phones, such as myself, and who would not misuse or abuse the privileges associated with such an item, do not actually own said items. I-phones and other such coveted things seem to only be in the hands of evil people who do not use these things for good.

I've been training in my new position for the past few weeks, and as frustrating as learning a new job is, this experience is even more frustrating because my trainer keeps texting throughout the day! Its unprofessional and rude! She should be training me on how to work, not on how to text.

Every time her phone goes off, my blood starts to boil. Today I was even more perturbed by it than usual and was ready to grab it out of her hands and smash it on the floor and jump on it, two-year old tantrum style.

Fortunately for her (and the I-phone and my wallet) I was able to constrain myself.

I make no guarantees about tomorrow though.

I Made a Scarf

I love argyle, and when I found a blog with a tutorial on how to make an argyle fleece throw, I knew that I had to make one of my own.

So, today I bought the fabric and spent the better part of the day working on my new argyle fleece throw.

I got a little distracted from my blanket project...and I made a scarf. One of the fabric remnants was the perfect size and length for a scarf, so I grabbed some embroidery floss and made a cute design and now I have an awesome new scarf!

I feel so accomplished having started and finished this today. Its a great feeling to be able to create things and it reminded me of this awesome talk by Elder Uchtdorf, titled 'Happiness, Your Heritage.' I love this talk, it makes me happy.

Hopefully my awesome blanket will be finished soon, but for now I'll leave you with more pictures of my beautiful scarf.




Please note that the pictures are blurry because my photography skills are not as amazing as my embroidery skills (yet).

My OTHER Roommate Acts as if She Lives Alone: The Sequel

My roommate just walked out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel. Unfortunately this is not the same roommate who had to cover up her derriere when I walked into the apartment a few months back. Yes, apparently BOTH of my roommates like to act as if they live all alone.

I've been feeling like a loser lately because I've become a hermit and spend most of my time when I'm at my apartment shut into my room. I'm beginning to see that shutting myself off from my roommates has been a good thing.

I really do not understand people who have absolutely zero respect for their fellow apartment dwellers (aka Allison). If they had any respect for me they would always be fully clothed (also, they would do their dishes). I don't enjoy having these awkward run ins with them, and the way they act when I catch them tells me that they don't particularly enjoy it either, so I'm not sure what it will take to get them to stop acting like they live by themselves.

I'm a magnet for creeps and weirdos. Perhaps this magnetism is one of my talents? It's gotta be right? Because I have zero musical, artistic or athletic ability...

Spelling

My friend posted this on Facebook today:

"...My ego is prego :) Aaron and I are expecting...June 7th, 2011"

I had to re-read this at least three times in order to determine that she was pregnant and her ego was not in fact growing larger.

Also, that's a pretty important announcement. Do you really want to announce the birth of your first child by quoting a lame movie about a weird pregnant sixteen year old? Let alone misspell the thing terribly and put the wrong year?