It’s been a brutal winter this year pretty much everywhere. But it’s been worse than usual here in NYC and I AM OVER IT.
I got a flu shot back in October but still got a killer flu. I got pneumonia with a supersized order of Asthma on top and had to take so many steroids that I fantasized about hand to hand combat. In my fantasy, one hand would fight while the other hand shoved pizza in my face. There were steroid fueled sex fantasies in there too, but I was too sick to do much about them. I would cry at the drop of a hat, rage at the slightest provocation and I woke up one night at 2am sweating and dying for a pizza. I’m all better now, but like I said, I’m DONE with winter. Winter can SUCK IT.
My mom told me this story over the phone a few weeks ago and I sat with a HUGE grin on my face while I listened. It’s terrible to poke fun at, but I absolutely can’t help myself…
My mom has been working on a few quilts lately, and she was very excited to have her visiting teaching companion over one afternoon to help her with a particularly tricky one. My mom has so many amazing Mormon talents, like making quilts, being constantly pregnant, eating her feelings and hiding her clinical depression. I have inherited many of these traits from her, minus the quilting and the baby making. continue reading…
That’s a big lie. I wasn’t nominated for an Oscar. Actually, I was nominated for a Brodie!! In two different categories- Funniest Humor Piece for Plygga Please and Most Amusing Vignette or Personal Anecdote for Shark Week Spirit Tears!!! How awesome is that! I seriously didn’t think anyone was even reading this! continue reading…
I find it amazing how I dreaded going home for Thanksgiving. I agonized, whined and posted about how I didn’t want to go and how I wouldn’t be able to do anything blah blah blah….
I’m back in NYC now. I made it through Thanksgiving safe and sound. I was perfectly polite to everyone, there were no arguments and my mom was wonderful. There weren’t even that many prayers… Bottom line? I’m suffering some pretty heavy guilt right now.
It’s a familiar guilt. The same guilt I always feel after a visit home. I feel guilty for leaving my mom behind. I feel guilty for having a good life when my mom is still stuck in the Morg universe with a shitty priesthood holder for a husband and none of her brood of children nearby. Isn’t that the Mormon promise? Get married in the temple, have a bunch of kids and you’ll be happy for ETERNITY? In my mom’s case this is entirely untrue. And yet, she still believes.
My guilt isn’t about not being in the church or not believing anymore. It’s more about the fact that in SPITE of those things I have a great life. It’s as if my very existence proves my mom wrong in every choice she has ever made.
And I know the guilt goes both ways. My mom is crippled with guilt over the choices she made, the man she married, the life she chose in relation to how it affected me as a child. I’d like to think our guilt cancels each others out, but I think it may not be possible.
I read the best piece of graffiti a few months back and I thought of it on the plane home and how it so perfectly applies to my state of mind as the holidays come and go this year:
“Gird your loins Jive Turkey”
I’m going home for Thanksgiving and I am SO.NOT.HAPPY.ABOUT.IT.
It’s not that I don’t love my family, because I do. But going home means that for the next week I will be adhering to a long list of NO’s and it drives me crazy.
Let me share. Here’s what my Thanksgiving week looks like:
1. NO Drinking of my beloved coffee as I putter around in the morning
2. NO Swearing
3. NO Turning into the Incredible Hulk at the mere mention of Sarah Palin’s name, her TV show or her Presidential future.
4. NO Reading Eliza Snitch or Koda or any of my other exmo fav’s online while I drink coffee
5. NO Vomiting at the plethora of Joseph Smith paintings, framed Proclamation of the Family posters or other “CHURCH” collectibles.
6. NO drinking wine with dinner if the mood strikes
7. NO bedroom fun with my beloved
8. NO Rolling of the eyes, laughing or vomiting during prayers before eating, prayers before sleeping, prayers before traveling or during prayers that whomever just left the room will return safely.
9. NO viewing of any rated R movies that come out at Thanksgiving, or any good ones that have just come out on DVD
10. NO exercising my free agency not to be Mormon anymore.
Over the years I’ve had a number of conversations about garments with my mom. These conversations have ranged from sincere questioning, to taunting, to disbelief and on and on… The conversation I’m about to share is the absolute ultimate, and I had thought that I’d hang on to it for a while, but it truly deserves the tag of Secret Underpants conversation NUMBER TWO and I just can’t help myself. (You will understand in a minute…) continue reading…
Alright friends, yesterdays post was a little too “Sad Clown” for my taste, so today, we’re going old school… I gots jokes!
It is my estimation that I changed more diapers by the time I was twelve years old than most women who have only one child do in their lifetime.
I started my illustrious, and lengthy, babysitting career when I was eight years old. We were living in Provo while my dad went to BYU, and even though we were poor my mom was devout in her faith and followed the gospel by being a turbo charged baby MACHINE. Most of my memories of my mom during my childhood are of her being pregnant. Being pregnant and crying a lot.
Did I mention we were really poor?
Do you guys remember that Seinfeld episode with Bizarro Jerry and the gang? Basically, they come across a group of friends in NYC that are exactly like Jerry, George and Kramer, but in a completely opposite way. I think I found my bizarro Sister Secret! continue reading…
So, it turns out that General Conference weekend coincides with the New York Burlesque Festival. Guess which one I’m going to? Not like there was really any question…
I’m going to go ahead and say it: boobies are better than general conference. I can’t think of one single thing those old guys could say that would be as entertaining as an evening of burlesque. Well, that’s not entirely true. Pretty much everything that comes out of their mouths is hilarious or hilariously offensive, but you know what I mean…