Not long ago, I told the Relief Society president of my ward that it seems I ruin everything I touch.
AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: Everything I do turns to-
MADAM PRESIDENT: Ashes?
AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: Sure. Ashes, or something else nobody likes. Like Jell-O. Green Jell-O. With carrots.
I produced a lot of green Jell-O with carrots this year.
In other words, I didn't produce much in terms of other, more metaphorically delicious things.
In other words, I failed. Failed. I failed all over the place and all over everything. And in the New Year, I plan to fail even more.
See. I figure there are statistically only so many times a person can fail. So the more I fail, the more statistically likely I am to succeed at something.
One of these days.
This is a good plan. It involves math. Your counter-argument is invalid.
Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Saturday, December 28, 2013
In Which I Am Hilarious
Best Friend Boy commented that I often ask him deep questions through text.
Awkward Mormon Girl: I have a deep question for you.
Best Friend Boy: Okay.
Awkward Mormon Girl: Have you ever read 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea?
Awkward Mormon Girl: I have a deep question for you.
Best Friend Boy: Okay.
Awkward Mormon Girl: Have you ever read 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea?
Saturday, December 21, 2013
The Gestation of Awkward Mormon Girl
Nine months tomorrow, and we're still going strong.
Now, nine months isn't the longest period of time. It's only three-quarters of a year, after all. Marriages should last longer than nine months. And so should jobs. And ideally so would a jar of Nutella.
However. Some great things can be accomplished in nine months. School years begin and end. The world completes seventy-five percent of its early rotation. And then there's babies.
In the time this blog has existed, a baby could have been conceived, gestated, and expelled from the womb into the fluorescent lighting of a hospital room. If this baby was a blog, it could have been born by now. Say whaaaat?
Also, in internet time, nine months is, like, five years. And in that light, keeping this blog up for that long is quite an impressive feat. So yay.
Now, nine months isn't the longest period of time. It's only three-quarters of a year, after all. Marriages should last longer than nine months. And so should jobs. And ideally so would a jar of Nutella.
However. Some great things can be accomplished in nine months. School years begin and end. The world completes seventy-five percent of its early rotation. And then there's babies.
In the time this blog has existed, a baby could have been conceived, gestated, and expelled from the womb into the fluorescent lighting of a hospital room. If this baby was a blog, it could have been born by now. Say whaaaat?
Also, in internet time, nine months is, like, five years. And in that light, keeping this blog up for that long is quite an impressive feat. So yay.
Friday, December 20, 2013
Peanut Butter, Rubik's Cubes, and Witchcraft
Aaand now it's time for what you've all been waiting for: another Ask Awkward Mormon Girl post!
•Creamy or crunchy peanut butter? Be honest.
Nutella.
But when Nutella-less, creamy, of course. Creamy peanut butter is the protein source of champions and high ACT scorers.
•How do you know if a guy likes you?
This is an area I have a lot of expertise in, since I am in a relationship of almost nine months.
(With a blog. But still.)
When you get to be a certain age, if a guy likes you, I think that he should just tell you.
That doesn't mean that he will. But he should. And if you like him, you should tell him too. If people would just be honest with one another, like seventy-two percent of the problems in the world would disappear overnight.
If all else fails, just, like, steal his diary or something.
•How do you lose a stalker?
Stay away from cornfields.
•How do you work without getting bored?
Find a job that you love. Because when you love something, you will never get bored of it.
Just kidding. I get bored of stuff that I love all the time. Except not hobbits. I never tire of hobbits.
What you need to do is spice up your relationship with your work.
Remember how wonderful everything was when you first got together? Recreate that old spark by dressing up for the time you spend together.
Buy small gifts for your job. Bring it chocolates and its favorite flowers.
Write nice notes for your job and put it in its sack lunches. If you don't make sack lunches for your job, now is the time to start. The more effort you put into the relationship, the more you will get out of it.
• How do you choose a present for your mom?
Don't buy her a loufa.
Thanks to everyone for submitting these questions! Now I will answer the ones I was sent by you-know-who.
Dear awkward mormon girl,
Please answer the following questions:
•Have you ever solved a rubix cube before?
A few years ago, Baby Brother purchased a Rubik's cube for me for my birthday. He often came to my room to play with it. Eventually, he broke it.
He then brought me another Rubik's cube and brought it to my room. Because I am not a genius-child like him, he knew I would not know that it was for me unless he made it very, very clear. So he put a sticky note on it that said, "To Awkward Mormon Girl from Baby Brother."
Also one that said, "New Rubix cube" because people who are not genius children can't identify objects unless they are labeled.
Now he comes to my room every day and asks me when I'm going to mix the Rubik's cube up. I don't want to mix it up because I know, from years of experience, that I will never be able to solve it, and I think it's beautiful the way it is.
Which is a long way of saying no, I have never solved a Rubik's cube. But Baby Brother probably has. In less than a minute. Simply by looking at it.
If not, please attempt to solve one during a commercial break the next time you watch t.v.
You first.
•What is your favorite type of fence? This is my go to question when I'm getting to know people, and I'm curious to know yours.
My go-to question when I'm getting to know people is "What is your blood type?" But to each their own.
I like picket fences. Because "picket" is fun to say. It's like a hobbit name or something. Picket Baggins.
•If I had 26 Cheetos and gave Tinkerbell 37 cosmic brownies, how many sour cream buckets would Rafiki leave on our doorstep?
None. But Phineas and Ferb would put half a gallon of ice cream on the roof.
•How did your attempt at the rubix cube go?
As well as my attempt to win an Oscar. Both are imaginary.
P.s. If you solve a rubix cube during commercial break, you probably didn't actually.
You know me so well.
After asking me these questions, Little Sister sent me another message on my iPod.
Little Sister: Did you get these messages? Because for some reason I'm getting them on my iPod.
Little Sister: Bad iPod.
Little Sister: Technology confuses me.
Me: Oh, I'm getting them all right.
All of a sudden, a message that I had not typed appeared on my side of the screen.
Little Sister on my account: Oooh is this sent from your account?
Me: What is this stop it.
Little Sister on her account: Woah. I'm like in two places at once!
Me: Devilry. Witchcraft.
Little Sister on my account: I'm not actually sure how I'm doing this...
Little Sister on her account: Okay goodnight hahahahha.
Me: Goodnight. Tomorrow we will burn you at the stake.
Little Sister on her account: You will think you are burning me.
Little Sister on my account: But it will actually be you. ;)
Little Sister on her account: Tehehehehhehemuahahahahahha.
Me: ...I am way more creeped out right now than I should be.
•Creamy or crunchy peanut butter? Be honest.
Nutella.
But when Nutella-less, creamy, of course. Creamy peanut butter is the protein source of champions and high ACT scorers.
•How do you know if a guy likes you?
This is an area I have a lot of expertise in, since I am in a relationship of almost nine months.
(With a blog. But still.)
When you get to be a certain age, if a guy likes you, I think that he should just tell you.
That doesn't mean that he will. But he should. And if you like him, you should tell him too. If people would just be honest with one another, like seventy-two percent of the problems in the world would disappear overnight.
If all else fails, just, like, steal his diary or something.
•How do you lose a stalker?
Stay away from cornfields.
•How do you work without getting bored?
Find a job that you love. Because when you love something, you will never get bored of it.
Just kidding. I get bored of stuff that I love all the time. Except not hobbits. I never tire of hobbits.
What you need to do is spice up your relationship with your work.
Remember how wonderful everything was when you first got together? Recreate that old spark by dressing up for the time you spend together.
Buy small gifts for your job. Bring it chocolates and its favorite flowers.
Write nice notes for your job and put it in its sack lunches. If you don't make sack lunches for your job, now is the time to start. The more effort you put into the relationship, the more you will get out of it.
• How do you choose a present for your mom?
Don't buy her a loufa.
Thanks to everyone for submitting these questions! Now I will answer the ones I was sent by you-know-who.
Dear awkward mormon girl,
Please answer the following questions:
•Have you ever solved a rubix cube before?
A few years ago, Baby Brother purchased a Rubik's cube for me for my birthday. He often came to my room to play with it. Eventually, he broke it.
He then brought me another Rubik's cube and brought it to my room. Because I am not a genius-child like him, he knew I would not know that it was for me unless he made it very, very clear. So he put a sticky note on it that said, "To Awkward Mormon Girl from Baby Brother."
Also one that said, "New Rubix cube" because people who are not genius children can't identify objects unless they are labeled.
Now he comes to my room every day and asks me when I'm going to mix the Rubik's cube up. I don't want to mix it up because I know, from years of experience, that I will never be able to solve it, and I think it's beautiful the way it is.
Which is a long way of saying no, I have never solved a Rubik's cube. But Baby Brother probably has. In less than a minute. Simply by looking at it.
If not, please attempt to solve one during a commercial break the next time you watch t.v.
You first.
•What is your favorite type of fence? This is my go to question when I'm getting to know people, and I'm curious to know yours.
My go-to question when I'm getting to know people is "What is your blood type?" But to each their own.
I like picket fences. Because "picket" is fun to say. It's like a hobbit name or something. Picket Baggins.
•If I had 26 Cheetos and gave Tinkerbell 37 cosmic brownies, how many sour cream buckets would Rafiki leave on our doorstep?
None. But Phineas and Ferb would put half a gallon of ice cream on the roof.
•How did your attempt at the rubix cube go?
As well as my attempt to win an Oscar. Both are imaginary.
P.s. If you solve a rubix cube during commercial break, you probably didn't actually.
You know me so well.
After asking me these questions, Little Sister sent me another message on my iPod.
Little Sister: Did you get these messages? Because for some reason I'm getting them on my iPod.
Little Sister: Bad iPod.
Little Sister: Technology confuses me.
Me: Oh, I'm getting them all right.
All of a sudden, a message that I had not typed appeared on my side of the screen.
Little Sister on my account: Oooh is this sent from your account?
Me: What is this stop it.
Little Sister on her account: Woah. I'm like in two places at once!
Me: Devilry. Witchcraft.
Little Sister on my account: I'm not actually sure how I'm doing this...
Little Sister on her account: Okay goodnight hahahahha.
Me: Goodnight. Tomorrow we will burn you at the stake.
Little Sister on her account: You will think you are burning me.
Little Sister on my account: But it will actually be you. ;)
Little Sister on her account: Tehehehehhehemuahahahahahha.
Me: ...I am way more creeped out right now than I should be.
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
Return of the Nosebleed
I have been blitzed by nosebleeds several times since Utah's 2013 performance of the winter magic trick of transforming from the Sahara into Siberia.
Many a morning here in Hometown it's been between five and twelve degrees Fahrenheit. When the temperature finally rose above twenty, I stepped outside barefoot with no jacket, and La Petite rolled her car windows down.
This ridiculous weather has adversely affected my nose. It bleeds even more frequently than usual. My nose, that is. Not the weather. 'Cause weather doesn't bleed, you silly. Not even in Siberia.
I went to help my grandmother set up Christmas decorations in her gimonstrous house. This mostly consisted of hanging red velveteen bows from the greenery strung on the windows all year long.
Now, these bows are some twenty-five years old, and for every year of their existence they have been placed on the window greenery before Christmas and removed promptly after.
Apparently for the past twenty-five years my grandmother has been practicing witchcraft. I have zero other explanations for how she ever managed to get the bows in the greenery before her back got so bad, because I simply could not do it. Those bows would not stay where I put them.
My grandmother also desired me to pin certain parts of the greenery higher up on the wall with thumbtacks. However, the greenery was thick and the thumbtacks were tiny and the bows got in the way and I was standing on a stool, trying to force the tacks into the wall and the greenery over the thumbtacks and bows onto the greenery, sweating and snarling like a feral husky while my grandmother watched from her couch and rued the fact that roughly a quarter of my genes come from her.
And then, nosebleed.
Many a morning here in Hometown it's been between five and twelve degrees Fahrenheit. When the temperature finally rose above twenty, I stepped outside barefoot with no jacket, and La Petite rolled her car windows down.
This ridiculous weather has adversely affected my nose. It bleeds even more frequently than usual. My nose, that is. Not the weather. 'Cause weather doesn't bleed, you silly. Not even in Siberia.
I went to help my grandmother set up Christmas decorations in her gimonstrous house. This mostly consisted of hanging red velveteen bows from the greenery strung on the windows all year long.
Now, these bows are some twenty-five years old, and for every year of their existence they have been placed on the window greenery before Christmas and removed promptly after.
Apparently for the past twenty-five years my grandmother has been practicing witchcraft. I have zero other explanations for how she ever managed to get the bows in the greenery before her back got so bad, because I simply could not do it. Those bows would not stay where I put them.
My grandmother also desired me to pin certain parts of the greenery higher up on the wall with thumbtacks. However, the greenery was thick and the thumbtacks were tiny and the bows got in the way and I was standing on a stool, trying to force the tacks into the wall and the greenery over the thumbtacks and bows onto the greenery, sweating and snarling like a feral husky while my grandmother watched from her couch and rued the fact that roughly a quarter of my genes come from her.
And then, nosebleed.
Friday, December 13, 2013
Christmas Post!!!
What I said: "Baby Brother, do you want to go Christmas shopping with me tomorrow?"
What Baby Brother heard: "Baby Brother, do you want to go back in time and help Christopher Columbus discover America with me tomorrow? And go to Hogwarts? And lick to the center of a Tootsie pop?"
That is the only explanation I could think of for his reacting this way:
MOM: Baby Brother told me that you're taking him Christmas shopping. Is this true?
AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: ... yes?
MOM: (exclamations of wondrous joy at this improbable miracle)
AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: WHY IS THIS DIFFERENT FROM THE FIFTY-THREE OTHER TIMES I TOOK HIM TO TARGET THIS YEAR I DON'T UNDERSTAND.
But then, suddenly, I did.
One year my workplace had a Christmas party instead of a work meeting. The party consisted of some important work information, followed by treats and a game.
Coincidentally, our work meetings also tended to consist of work information followed by treats and games. The only real difference was that this time we called it a "Christmas party" instead of "December workplace meeting." I'm pretty sure more people came to that party than to any meeting before or since.
It's that word: "Christmas." It's like word caffeine. Attach it to something average, and it becomes the best ever. Attach it to something people don't really like, and it's suddenly appealing.
Shopping = chore.
Christmas shopping = epic journey of untold magnitude!
Listening to small children sing loudly and off-key = legal form of torture.
Elementary school Christmas recital: extreme adorableness overload and goodwill towards all mankind.
Party = a dangerous social venture resulting in untold stress.
Christmas party?! Break out the eggnog!
Okay. Let's try something.
Bills. Meh.
CHRISTMAS BILLS!!!!!
...nope. Still meh.
What Baby Brother heard: "Baby Brother, do you want to go back in time and help Christopher Columbus discover America with me tomorrow? And go to Hogwarts? And lick to the center of a Tootsie pop?"
That is the only explanation I could think of for his reacting this way:
AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: ... yes?
MOM: (exclamations of wondrous joy at this improbable miracle)
AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: WHY IS THIS DIFFERENT FROM THE FIFTY-THREE OTHER TIMES I TOOK HIM TO TARGET THIS YEAR I DON'T UNDERSTAND.
But then, suddenly, I did.
One year my workplace had a Christmas party instead of a work meeting. The party consisted of some important work information, followed by treats and a game.
Coincidentally, our work meetings also tended to consist of work information followed by treats and games. The only real difference was that this time we called it a "Christmas party" instead of "December workplace meeting." I'm pretty sure more people came to that party than to any meeting before or since.
It's that word: "Christmas." It's like word caffeine. Attach it to something average, and it becomes the best ever. Attach it to something people don't really like, and it's suddenly appealing.
Shopping = chore.
Christmas shopping = epic journey of untold magnitude!
Listening to small children sing loudly and off-key = legal form of torture.
Elementary school Christmas recital: extreme adorableness overload and goodwill towards all mankind.
Party = a dangerous social venture resulting in untold stress.
Christmas party?! Break out the eggnog!
Okay. Let's try something.
Bills. Meh.
CHRISTMAS BILLS!!!!!
...nope. Still meh.
Monday, December 9, 2013
Self-Perception
Things have been weird lately.
A ton of people have been praising me constantly. But also a ton of people have been criticizing me without relent. (For the most part, they are well-meaning on both sides.)
If these individuals are to be believed, then I am either a person with almost no flaws or a person with almost no redeeming qualities.
I think that I am somewhere in the middle--but I believe that I have more good qualities than faults.
Believing the opposite has never gotten me anywhere.
A ton of people have been praising me constantly. But also a ton of people have been criticizing me without relent. (For the most part, they are well-meaning on both sides.)
If these individuals are to be believed, then I am either a person with almost no flaws or a person with almost no redeeming qualities.
I think that I am somewhere in the middle--but I believe that I have more good qualities than faults.
Believing the opposite has never gotten me anywhere.
Monday, December 2, 2013
How to Choose a Christmas Present
It's that time of year again--the time of year when everybody wants a present. Everybody. From you. For Christmas. And each has to be the exact perfect present, or else your loved ones will feel unloved and cry their eyes out and possibly develop complexes from your neglect.
Are you feeling the pressure yet? Yes? Well, prepare to unfeel that pressure, because Awkward Mormon Girl is here to help!
Here's how to choose the perfect Christmas present, in six easy steps.
1. Choose one person from your Christmas shopping list.
2. Think about everything that reminds you of that person. I mean everything. Colors that call them to mind, their usual brand of toothpaste, their aunt's middle name. Listen to music, eat food, and watch television shows that remind you of them. Once you're hopped up on sensory overload, go to your nearest retail store.
3. Run through the store like a tornado, putting everything you see that you think this person might like in your shopping cart. Except probably don't run. The manager of the retail store will throw you out. Unless you are the manager of your nearest retail store. In which case, carry on.
4. Look through the items that you chose and recognize the ones which weren't actually a good idea. Like that loufa. Nobody in the history of ever has wanted a loufa for Christmas.
5. Put back the loufa.
6. Purchase the item you think is the best fit. Take home, wrap, and give away.
And there! You've done it! You've successfully chosen a Christmas present. Repeat those six steps for each person on your list and you're guaranteed to choose a perfect present for everyone! Or you will at least not get them a loufa.
Are you feeling the pressure yet? Yes? Well, prepare to unfeel that pressure, because Awkward Mormon Girl is here to help!
Here's how to choose the perfect Christmas present, in six easy steps.
1. Choose one person from your Christmas shopping list.
2. Think about everything that reminds you of that person. I mean everything. Colors that call them to mind, their usual brand of toothpaste, their aunt's middle name. Listen to music, eat food, and watch television shows that remind you of them. Once you're hopped up on sensory overload, go to your nearest retail store.
3. Run through the store like a tornado, putting everything you see that you think this person might like in your shopping cart. Except probably don't run. The manager of the retail store will throw you out. Unless you are the manager of your nearest retail store. In which case, carry on.
4. Look through the items that you chose and recognize the ones which weren't actually a good idea. Like that loufa. Nobody in the history of ever has wanted a loufa for Christmas.
5. Put back the loufa.
6. Purchase the item you think is the best fit. Take home, wrap, and give away.
And there! You've done it! You've successfully chosen a Christmas present. Repeat those six steps for each person on your list and you're guaranteed to choose a perfect present for everyone! Or you will at least not get them a loufa.
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