fairly truthful

I am stubborn. I have long ago accepted the fact as a fundamental part of my nature. I will be the first to admit that, when I get something into my head, good or bad, I stick to it like a big wad of duct tape. But just because I'm stubborn doesn't mean that I'm not right.
In third grade, my family found a piece of paper at our house that created quite an uproar. I've always prided myself on being a good student; I always do my homework the night that it's given and I promptly turn it in on time, if not early. I never forget. So when my mom held up the paper, the affixed question dangling in front of me, I was almost offended. No, of course the homework was not mine. The question turned next to my second grade brother, Spence. Spence has never been as school-oriented as I. While A's are run of the mill for me, the Hallelujah Chorus breaks out if Spence comes anywhere near one. The recovered English worksheet must be his. He looked at it carefully, then shook his head.
“Nope, not mine, Mom.”
“Well, it has to be somebody's,” she said, “and it needs to be filled out and turned in.”
I couldn't believe it. Spence was either lying or had completely forgotten an assignment. How do you forget a school assignment? Needless to say, the problem of the paper did not stop with the singular incident. It swelled and bloomed into a Venus fly trap that started chomping any time the conversation came to close to the subject. I firmly said, stated, then screamed that the homework was not mine and there was no way in Kentucky that I was going to do it. Spence followed suit and we both lost count of the times we were sent to our rooms for fighting over the paper. I still have the scars.
Finally, Mom had had enough. She dragged me into Spence's room one day, sat me on the bed, and folded her arms.
“I'm going to ask the two of you one more time: Whose assignment is this?”
We both folded our arms and glared at each other. “It's not mine,” I said, and tried to get up to leave. Mom shoved me back down.
“It's not mine either!” Spence was shoved down too.
“Fine. There are only two of you, so it can't be anyone else's. No little homework fairy snuck in and left it on the living room floor. If neither of you are willing to claim it, then we will go to your teachers. Whoever it belongs to will apologize to the other and will buy them a king-size candy bar out of their allowance.” She snatched the paper off the bed and stalked from the room.
A bet! Mom was really serious if she was setting up a bet. We were never allowed to bet. Spence bet me I wouldn't eat a live spider once. When I did, he told Mom and I was grounded for a week after getting my mouth washed out with Dad's old soap. Somehow, Spence wasn't punished. Well, it wasn't my homework, and I wasn't going to lose.
It seemed like an eternity before Mom arrived after school the next day. At last, she marched into the room and up to Mrs. Foster, holding the now rumpled and dirty scrap of homework, Spence trailing behind.
“Excuse me,” she began, “but is this Amy's? An owner cannot be found at my home and I was wondering if you could help us.”
“Hmm...” Mrs. Foster puzzled, “it looks like our grade level, but I'm afraid that I've never seen that paper before. It can't be Amy's.”
Yes! I stuck my tongue out at Spence and grinned triumphantly. I imagined the glorious chocolate that was as good as in my mouth. I smiled as we headed out of the room and to Spence's classroom; Mom had promised to check with both teachers. She approached Spence's slender teacher and asked the question that I already knew the answer to.
“Does this homework belong to Spence?” she asked.
“Hmm...” (Teachers seem to say “hmm” a lot.) “No, I'm afraid that assignment doesn't belong to my class. Perhaps one of the other teachers could help you.”
What? No! It was his! It had to be! My mother's expression echoes my thoughts. The three of us walked stiffly out to the car, too dumbfounded to say anything. What were we supposed to do? Mom pulled out of the parking lot and started down the street. I stared blindly out the car window until we passed a billboard for The Thomas Theatre. It had a picture of a fairy. I pointed it out to Spence and he burst out laughing.
“It's the Homework Fairy!” He exclaimed.
Stupid fairy. I wanted that candy bar. No, I'm not bitter, I just wanted my candy bar, which I never got by the way. Yes, I know, I'm stubborn. I still hate that fairy.

school days

i miss elementary school. i miss snacks, recess, no homework, and knowing everyone in your class. i miss projects that you would do In Class, playing games and reading stories. I TOTALLY miss field trips. once in preschool, we went to the zoo. i was so excited that the night before, i woke up at four in the morning to get ready. i remember waking my mom up to see if i could get dressed and have breakfast yet.

i try to go on field trips every once in a while. they aren't quite as exciting as that usually. i do have a fun time looking, learning, and talking to people though. i had an assignment for reece to take pictures of the constitutional amendments on wednesday. it was perfect because we're starting a unit on photoshop in photo. photosafaries are the best things. i love em. the conflict: my mom had the car. i'm doomed! oh wait, no that just means that i take a two hour nap till she comes home. and then, i had it all planned out: the newspaper, the library, the city building, the church and whatever caught my eye along the way.


but of course, being me, i got stuck at the first step. i saw some of the extra papers lying around, and it perked my interest. so i go up to the brunette secretary and ask if i can get back into the press room. and she actually picked up the phone and got me permission. escorted of course. while i waited, a blong lady walked in, holding two drinks and bouncing with excitement. "are you ready for this?!" she asked, and gave the secretary one of the brown cups. the two jab straws through the plastic tops and start sucking down whatever it is.
"do you like it? it's kinda weird and i didn't really know how to describe it, but it's good ya know?"
"yeah, kinda...chewy. i want to spit it out to see what it looks like, but i won't"
"thank you for sparing me."
i grinned to myself. guess who they reminded me of? i think that they had forgot that i was standing right there waiting for my escort because they both looked over and blushed. right then larry walked up and introduced himself. good timing, my friend.


the dim light and the ink in the air surrounded me and everything else as larry showed me around the HUGE machines sucking in paper. the rolls were bigger than i am tall. we wandered through the narrow hallways, watching the 16x20 negatives being made, loaded onto the reels, and the products being whisked away at speeds papers usually don't reach. as the ink was cleaning and being adjusted, the papers were drenched in color. the column (in the back with confetti strips hanging off the rings) was a rainbow as they swirled and blended. larry commented that it takes about 600 papers to get the color, pages and alignment all right. everyone we talked to smiled and had something to say to us. they pointed out funny things in the print, told jokes, and taught me little things.

i was sad when larry finally had to go back to work, i walked out of the warehouse trailing ink. i think that i still have some on the bottoms of my flipflips. i went home and almost wanted to do a write up on it; what was your favorite part? name four things you learned? what was the guide's name? how did the experience make you feel? nstead i stayed up till two writing a story and pasting pictures. what i realixed when i got to school the next day was that i could have skipped the entire assignment and still have gotten an A in the class. i laughed. i love the end of the term.

bluebirdies and cream

it followed me home. i am most displeased. as for the trip, just imagine: me, in a small cabin, with a bunch of adolecence females, surrounded by five feet of snow, for three days. weird weird weird. nah, actually it wasn't all that bad. we had fun, and i'm excited for camp. i'm gonna be the coolest ycl ever. it's the week before efy too. by the time i go back to work, i'll be twitching convusively. YUS!
on a completely other note (minor), the siblings' stake dance was a party. i'm such a nerd. but it's okay. i'm glad the m-vites came. though i got snow down my collar...
hmmm, and speaking of snow, i have a thought for you to ponder, before i finish and go to cal; how did nephi know what driven snow looked like? they don't have snow in jeruselam, do they?

geese

the three birds meandered slowly and half-blindly through the snow. for some strange reason the bluebird was in the lead. though she was the only fowl among them that knew where they were going, she was not a winter bird and had, um...trouble. but finally the group landed.
what was not expected was the fact that they had to wear SKIRTS. and have DANCE CADRS! so instead they watched making fiends. All. Night. Long. let's pretend to be postal workers!

paired up

i went shopping with my dad today. to...The Mall. my mom refused to take me. it's too graphic. but by easing my father behind the wheel of only car with gas in it by saying i needed to go to the library, ( i really did. those cds are two days overdue.) i manuvered the Pickup to...The Mall.
i've needed shoes since october. half of my "nice clothes" were completed by a pair of flip flops. no longer so, and i've been wearing winter shoes since. but i long to wear that other half. not having any money myself, i am dependant upon my parental figures. however, when approached with the subject, my mother shudders and either says, "later" or that the boys are practically falling out of their shoes. she's never really liked shopping herself, especially at...The Mall.
now, the boys have the unfair advantage of feet that are yet growing. i haven't budged since eighth grade. i get shoes once a year. maybe. they get shoes every couple months. and thus i finangled the black flats out of forever young and onto my rather reluctant feet.(i like them, but how can i love them after my flip flops? they're just...aquaintances.) but it got me thinking about the extent to which i manipulate my parents and, quite often, cause contention within their relationship. everyone does it; it's human nature. mom isn't gonna sway, so you sweet talk daddy, and then slip away when the two start to talk. a couple needs to have a very stable relationship before children. while kids do strengthen the bond, it needs to be able to withstand the inevitable tug-of-war that children will inflict upon their parents.
that's my profound thought, and geeky shopping experience for the day. *sigh* maybe if i "forget" my shoes tomorrow it will make me feel better. except that people check my feet now. weirdos.

too much time on my hands

avoiding my homework, lalalalala. i do need to read and do math soon. plus, i've been on the computer WAY too long for good health or hygiene. i need a hobby. i need to call amicus. is it too late for that? i know not.
but, i should leave you with something edifying before i depart. hmm..this'll work:

A turkey should never be carved until it has been out of the oven at least 30 minutes. This permits the inner cooking to subside and the internal meat juices to stop running. Once the meat sets, it's easier to carve clean, neat slices.

happy saturday all!

i talked to ryan today. first time in a month. he got his call today too. funny how that works. he's going to Tahiti. not what i expected.
it's strange. i don't know how i feel. i've always known that he would leave. it's a given. but now that he's set to leave...
i wish that i had a better relationship with him. i wish that i knew how to fix the mistakes that i've made in the one we have. i don't know how. i want to be his friend so bad. why is it so hard? i don't understand and that scares me. i don't know what to do.