suspicious.

My sister Miriam wrote this. It is so good, I figured I didn't really have to write my own version. And it expresses my experience with AVATAR quite well:

The whole family went to Avatar today except Marie, Mike and the little children. None of us were excited about the plot synopsis, but it was AVATAR, so we had to go. Laura and I were the ones who waited for everyone with the tickets. This gave us time to eat a baked potato and look around.
Laura: "Ohhhh. They used papyrus font for the Avatar poster. This isn't going to be good."
Me: "Ya?"
Laura: "It just looks bad. They spend millions of dollars on a film and then get graphic designers who use PAPYRUS. No. What were they thinking?"
Me: (Laughing) "It's like public health."
Laura: " Huh?"
Me: "After learning about public health, you question every statistic the media throws at you. I mean like did they stratify for age, socioeconomic status, and activity level? That kind of stuff. You become suspicious of everything when you know something about public health and here you are suspicious of everything because of the typefaces they use."
Laura: (laughing) "I am suspicious of Avatar."

So we went in, a little late by the time all of the tickets were distributed and we waded through upset people to our pre-assigned seats. About a half hour in, I felt something slide off of my lap and looked down. The sleeve of my coat had shifted and it's a heavy lambskin coat so I thought I might be able to feel a sleeve shifting because it is a bulky coat. I briefly considered that my purse may have slipped off of my lap but I just decided to search around after the movie.

It ended. It was long. At one point, I had looked at Laura and said
"I have to pee so bad."
"Me too. We only have 45 minutes left. "
"Ackkk"
We made it. It had cost the two of us ~$20 to stare at a movie screen for 3 hours and the special effects were worth it. However, Laura's suspicions about the story, characters, and romance were validated. Most importantly, we got to go to the bathroom.
I looked around for my purse. I couldn't find it. I started searching under the seats around me. The girl sitting on my left wanted to get past and I wasn't letting her. I wanted to see if my purse had somehow ended up in her bag. I finally told her I was looking for my purse to see how she responded and she said very sweetly.
"Oh. Well let me get out of your way."

I have no idea what to do when you think someone has stolen your purse, but you are in no way sure. I mean I couldn't just start frisking people or going through their bags. I considered what was in my purse. A credit card, a debit card, a drivers license, temple recommend, Costco membership, various grocery store discount cards and three pieces of peppermint Trident. I had just payed my dad back with my last $20, left my phone, camera and ipod at home and I had even commented earlier that my purse was looking worn out. I let her go past, looked a bit more for my purse, went to the lost and found, and then called and put a hold on my credit card and cancelled my debit card. I panicked later when I realized I didn't know where my keys were, but they were in my backpack after all.

When I get back to Merced, I will get to spend about 3 hours at the DMV, staring at pictures of Arnold Schwarzenegger and it will cost me ~ $20 for a new drivers license.

monster hunting.

Reasons my life is presently perfect:

I have the best family ever.

I'm living my dream of being accepted to the BYU graphic design program.

I seriously have the best boyfriend on the planet.
The only problem I'm having with it is that it's hard to really believe that things could be this good. I find myself picking for imperfections, for reasons to doubt the peace in my relationships and my skills as a student.
I so much fear the dark monster that could be lurking around the corner.
I think I need to learn to relax.

washington.

On the ferry ride from Seattle to Bainbridge I sat outside on the deck. I took some pictures near the railing and returned to my seat with the aim of writing a postcard.
"You're not a very good windblock."
I look up. "Huh?"
"I said you're not a very good windblock."
Seated about 6 feet downwind from me on the same bench is a man dressed in a black business suit and a gray windbreaker. He is bald and holding a copy of the New York Times. I don't remember anything about his face.
"Mmm...Yep. I guess not."
"Doin' your best though, right?"
"Uh, yeah; right."
"I take this ferry twice everyday. To work."
"Where do you work?"
"In a bank, a big bank; US Bank... but it's been really tough lately."
"Just because of the economy?"
"Yeah, I thought I'd be able to retire last year, but things just kept getting worse. Now I'm hoping to retire this time next year. Yup, 2010...2010."
"Really? How old are you? You seem pretty young for retirement."
"51."
My dad's still working and he's 62...51 doesn't seem so bad."
"62! There was a time I thought I'd retire at 30!" he scoots a few inches closer.
"I work in real estate. Things were really good back then. But then came the wife and kids. That really changes things... but now that's over...
Yeah, I think I'm gonna go crab fishing tomorrow; just enjoy a day on the water."
"You get to just take off work like that?"
"Yeah, I get to play hookie when I want. So what are you in town for?"
"My sisters are meeting me on the other side. We're headed to a beach house where we're meeting up with my mom and dad and nieces and nephew."
"Oh, yeah? Yup, your dad...I bet he's got it all figured out... all of it."
"Yeah, I think so. He's so happy to spend time with the grandkids."
"Yeah, I bet so." A long pause passes between us and his head turns downward. He looks up.
"Well, you're not a good windblock, but you're a good conversationalist."
The ferry ride isn't even half-way through, but he picks up his newspaper and leaves with a short wave.
"Goodbye." I don't even have the chance to reply.

When I meet up with everyone at the beach house, my mom shows me these pictures:One her old Seattle friends emailed them to her.

jealous.

(in my inbox this morning)
Wish you were here!
Love, mimCarl, Hilary, Miriam, and Jude are all in Mexico. Imagine the Spanish I could be learning...

24.

I have never seen even one episode of "24", but the rest of my family loves it.
I don't intentionally resist it; there's just always a pattern of watching "24" that naturally discludes me.
My dad is the greatest enthusiast. It's like clockwork. The tv lights up at 7:55p or 7:58p and always blasting (because my dad is a little hard of hearing.) I arrive home around this time and start talking with my mom, who is also sitting on the couch, ready for the next action-packed installment.
We start speaking loudly over the tv volume and it's okay until the opening credits are through. At this point, my mom and I are pretty engaged in whatever we're speaking about as my dad is on the edge of his seat about the promising interest of the unfolding episode.

He turns and shouts, "If you guys are gonna talk, you could go into the other room!"

This is the only time I ever hear my father raise his voice these days.

I leave my mom and dad to watch in peace because I know I can't actually keep quiet after being quiet at school all day.

Miriam added a beautiful element this week by dispelling the phony tv science. During the precluding "what happened last week" segment she exclaims, "but prions aren't virulent!" When I ask her what that means, she enthusiastically starts explaining. Then Mom pipes in. "Shhh. Dad will get mad. He'll ask to move to a different room if you want to talk."

hey jude.

Today was my newest nephew, Jude's, baby blessing. I got to draw him right after he was carried back to the pews.
I think it's a fantastic beginning for my new sketchbook; I can't imagine what would be better.

I also posted a new etsy item that I feel pretty good about:

daddy.

I love my dad so much. I hope you can get a sense of how meek and hard-working he is from this picture.
I took it for a portrait assignment in my photo class.

freddy=love.

I was telling my mom just a few days ago that I think every good mother is loaded with hobbies. The theory behind it is that if they're not actively pursuing their own interests, that they are likely to be a little overbearing of their children and self-righteous from sacrificing too much.
"Do you think that I've been good in that way?", she asked.

"Yeah, of course mom, you've always been interested in tons of stuff."

"Like what?"

"C'mon, are you joking? I could start with how into history you are (she reads history books non-stop). . .yeah, I mean, remember the Freddy Krueger costume? Now there's pursuing an interest on a whim. . ."

"Yeah, but that's not really a cutesy mom thing to do, it's certainly not like scrapbooking."

"But that's what we love about you."

So here's the story: My mom dropped all of us kids off at elementary school on Halloween. We went to a private school where we weren't even allowed to dress up. I was in the 3rd grade.

When she returned home, she saw instructions on some morning talk show about how to make a really cool Freddy Krueger mask. She saw how easy it was to make one so authentic looking and felt inspired.

When she came to pick us up in the afternoon, she was decked out in a full costume, wearing the mask. It looked good. Maybe too good. She says she remembers scaring the kids and creeping out the teachers.

Of course I hadn't seen "Nightmare on Elm Street" and thought it was really fun that my mom had decided to dress up.

I hope I can be a good mom like my mom someday.

I pulled the beautiful watercolor of Freddy here.

hopeful.

I often declare out loud how happy I am to be divorced. I have never regretted it.
But there are those rare occasions when I remember how heartbreaking the demise of my marriage really was.

It is sometimes difficult to remember because it happened steadily and surely, day after day as even the smallest marital exchanges seemed to malfunction; each malfunction triggering steady doses of pain.

Watching my brother parent his one-day-old son somehow brought those painful emotions forward. The love for his wife and son felt so evident and natural as a reverent feeling of peace permeated their small apartment.

It reminded me that there is nothing that I crave more in this world than to enjoy a happy marriage and to be a mother.

I desperately hope that my future attempts will not be so futile as those in my past.

i am a flower princess and you are happy.

My beautiful niece modeling the necklace she just made.
(click on the picture)

25: the beginning of the rest of my life.

My birthday was on Friday night. It was probably the absolute best birthday of my life. Here's a list of highlights:

Whitney let me ride her bike during Critical Mass (just a massive bikeride that happens once a month in Provo):


Then I went to the opening of the art show that I made the chickens for:Karisa made the best carrot cake I've ever tasted and brought it to the art opening in honor of my birthday.

Then we (all of my family who lives in Utah and my friends Whitney, Mike Alger, Nate, Mark, Mary, and Lauren) all walked to the local Indian restaurant and enjoyed dinner. They all said one thing they loved about me as they passed my toki-doki cell phone charm around the table. My emotions ranged from laughing to crying.



Perhaps what Mark said was the most notable:
"What I love about Laura is that no matter how dramatic my life seems, her drama can always trump mine."


Then we made this exodus in lots of different cars to my parents' house for cake and ice cream. I rode with Mike Alger along with Mary and Lauren:

Mike: Sorry guys, my heater takes forever to warm up. But I have two blankets back there.

Mary: Oh good. I'm so cold.

Mary starts wrapping herself up in the blankets as I'm giving directions to Mike about where we're headed.

Mike: ...So Laura, right here? ...Oh yeah, you might wanna watch out for the red blanket though. I think I saw a clump on it or something.

Laura: A clump? What does that mean?! (Mike's car is kind of noisy) Mary, watch out, Mike says he saw a clump on the red blanket back there.

Mary: A clump? You mean on this red blanket I'm swaddled in?

I couldn't stop laughing. Also I think that Mary just stayed all swaddled up in that clumpy blanket. It was the joke of the night for me.

The chocolate cake my mom made was divine.

My brother, Carl, gave me the kid's book Preztel (a childhood favorite of mine) and everyone humored me by allowing me to read it to them.

We did fortune telling games and stayed up late.

Me, Mary, and Whit all had a fabulous sleepover full of girl talk and went out to breakfast in the morning.

My only question: How does life get better than this? And I'm being completely serious.