I don't mean to be morbid, but there's something that's been bugging me for a while. I think it started a couple years ago when I bought life insurance, and it was only reinforced when I was promoted and got a ton more life insurance. I started thinking more about how if I suddenly died (which I have no plans to do, but nobody plans to suddenly die; if it were planned, it wouldn't be sudden), then there would probably be a funeral. I have concerns about this funeral. I'm worried that without me there to supervise it, it's going to turn out all wrong.
I've been meaning to write this post for a while, but over the past year or so, many of the people around me (and myself, come to think of it) have lost loved ones. It seemed terribly blasé to be giving out funeral plans in the midst of such things, so I've waited, and now I finally think it's a good time. And I'm posting them online, so that everyone knows what I want at my funeral so that everyone can be held accountable for it going off correctly.
Location and Music: These things are tied together, in my opinion. I kind of want music that's not church music at the funeral. Like, there can be some church music, but I really like Jim Henson's memorial where his friends sang a medley of his favorite songs. I'd rather have that. But that would mean that the funeral couldn't be held in an LDS chapel. That would mean extra hassle for my parents, and also my experience with funerals is that another venue might not be large enough. So I guess that's really up to my family and whether they would find church music more comforting. But for the record, my favorite song is probably "Pukka Pukka Squeetily Boink."
Speakers: I've decided that for speakers, Viola, Best Friend Boy, and La Petite should speak, in that order. Following that, a church leader of my parents' choosing should speak.
Other Funeral Requests: Everyone attending the funeral should write a letter and put it in my casket. Please and thank you. I'm going to be at my funeral in spirit, and I'm going to read everyone's letters over their shoulders so that I can find out everything they ever wanted to say to me but didn't. So this is very important.
Headstone: I have especially particular opinions about headstones. Here's what should be on mine: 1) my full name, 2) my exact birth and death dates, and 3) a quote. A good quote that encompasses my life or my personality or something. I know that having words on headstones is expensive, but there's no use having a headstone with no quote so there better be one.
Food: Please, for the love of all that is holy, no funeral potatoes at my funeral. Funeral potatoes are disgusting. You'd think it wouldn't make a difference to me because I'd be dead, but it does.
That's it. Those are the most important things that cannot be messed up. Hopefully, nobody will have to worry about this because I plan to live for a long time. I've never even been kissed, for crying out loud, so I have to at least do that. But just in case, these plans are readily accessible should they be needed.
Thursday, August 31, 2017
Tuesday, August 29, 2017
Take Me Out to the Ballgame
Before this summer, I'd been to two baseball games that I remember.
One was when I was five or six, maybe. I was there with my dad, Older Sister, my uncle, my uncle's older daughter if not his younger one, and possibly my dad's dad. My uncle gave us all peanuts and crackerjacks. That's literally all I remember.
When I was a teenager, I went to see a friend of mine sing the national anthem at a baseball game. I went because he'd offered me and Viola free tickets. He forgot the words to the national anthem and instead sang, "I don't remember this part." After that, Viola and I spent the rest of the game working on our fanfiction. We left early.
This summer, though, I've been to two baseball games. In the space of ten days, I doubled the quantity of my baseball experience.
The first game was for a ward activity. I'm on the activities committee now, so I basically do all kinds of stuff I normally wouldn't do simply because I help plan the activities. Since getting the calling, I've gone on hikes, helped purchase three shopping carts of food at Costco, and gone shotgun shooting. And gone to this baseball game. I had some stuff I needed to catch up on, so I spent a fair portion of the game sending emails and writing in my journal.
The second one was for my dad's work party. His company had secured a private box at a game and provided a delicious barbecue dinner. For the first inning or so, I was doing some research on my phone. But for the rest of the game, Baby Brother, Little Sister, Mr. Little Sister, and I were all staring at the field. (Little Brother would have been there. I even got him to commit to reciting "Casey at the Bat" for us. But then he had to go do an activity for his own ward, so he didn't come.)
And that's when I made a discovery: I can't pay attention to baseball games.
I've watched whole basketball, football, soccer, and even softball games and paid attention most of the time. But with baseball, I can't do it. I don't know why.
Anyway, the whole evening went like this:
BABY BROTHER AND I: We're going to pay attention now.
BABY BROTHER AND I: Wait, it's the third inning?
BABY BROTHER AND I: Wait, we got another run?
BABY BROTHER AND I: Let's talk about something for a minute and then pay attention again!
BABY BROTHER AND I: ...we haven't been paying attention, have we?
Long story short, we left early.
One was when I was five or six, maybe. I was there with my dad, Older Sister, my uncle, my uncle's older daughter if not his younger one, and possibly my dad's dad. My uncle gave us all peanuts and crackerjacks. That's literally all I remember.
When I was a teenager, I went to see a friend of mine sing the national anthem at a baseball game. I went because he'd offered me and Viola free tickets. He forgot the words to the national anthem and instead sang, "I don't remember this part." After that, Viola and I spent the rest of the game working on our fanfiction. We left early.
This summer, though, I've been to two baseball games. In the space of ten days, I doubled the quantity of my baseball experience.
The first game was for a ward activity. I'm on the activities committee now, so I basically do all kinds of stuff I normally wouldn't do simply because I help plan the activities. Since getting the calling, I've gone on hikes, helped purchase three shopping carts of food at Costco, and gone shotgun shooting. And gone to this baseball game. I had some stuff I needed to catch up on, so I spent a fair portion of the game sending emails and writing in my journal.
The second one was for my dad's work party. His company had secured a private box at a game and provided a delicious barbecue dinner. For the first inning or so, I was doing some research on my phone. But for the rest of the game, Baby Brother, Little Sister, Mr. Little Sister, and I were all staring at the field. (Little Brother would have been there. I even got him to commit to reciting "Casey at the Bat" for us. But then he had to go do an activity for his own ward, so he didn't come.)
And that's when I made a discovery: I can't pay attention to baseball games.
I've watched whole basketball, football, soccer, and even softball games and paid attention most of the time. But with baseball, I can't do it. I don't know why.
Anyway, the whole evening went like this:
BABY BROTHER AND I: We're going to pay attention now.
BABY BROTHER AND I: Wait, it's the third inning?
BABY BROTHER AND I: Wait, we got another run?
BABY BROTHER AND I: Let's talk about something for a minute and then pay attention again!
BABY BROTHER AND I: ...we haven't been paying attention, have we?
Long story short, we left early.
Saturday, August 26, 2017
Our Big Move
There's a film that came out when I was a kid called Max Keeble's Big Move. I've never seen it, but I've seen the previews in front of other Disney feature films. Basically, within the first few seconds of the preview it cuts away to Max Keeble talking to his parents, saying, "We're moving?!" And then Max Keebler decides that since he's moving, he's going out with a bang, and the trailer shows him causing all kinds of shenanigans at school on his last day.
Real moving is nothing like that. There's no time for shenanigans because you're too busy putting everything you own into boxes. So that you can shortly thereafter take everything out of the boxes. It's madness.
In our case, we had even less time for shenanigans because we had to find a place to live. Our landlord's house wasn't yet on the market, so we had time, but we didn't know exactly how much. The house could sell right away, in which case we would then have thirty days as the sale was going through. But the house could also be on the market for weeks or months, as had happened to several houses in our neighborhood.
"I don't think we have to worry," I informed my roommates. "Maybe the house won't sell. Maybe the buyers will want to rent to us still. I feel like everything is going to be okay."
But, understandably, that wasn't a huge comfort to my roommates. So we started holding roommate councils on Sunday nights. Soon we had a good four rental house walkthroughs lined up. Yes, you read that right...rental house. We decided we might as well rent our own place while we were making a change.
Here's what happened while we were house hunting: We looked at some very nice and not-so-nice houses. We met a potential landlady who made us uncomfortable by sharing weirdly personal information with us. We asked questions about microwaves, swamp coolers, garden boxes, parking, and bolting bookshelves to the wall. We got Indian food. We made lists. We were charmed by a early 20th-century home with an upstairs window alcove, but we couldn't get around the fact that the only bathroom was literally in the middle of one of the bedrooms. We sent each other links of other potential homes to visit, including some that we decided were kidnapping scams. Half our walkthroughs were rescheduled or canceled.
Towards the end of the preview for Max Keeble's Big Move, it cuts away again to Max Keeble talking to his parents. This time he says, "We're not moving?" Then he has to go back to school the next day and handle the fallout from all of the shenanigans he did on his intended last day of school. That always confused me. Even as a child, I knew that it was pretty unlikely that you would be moving one day and the next day suddenly not be moving.
But one other thing that happened while we were house hunting was that our landlord came back and said, "Just kidding. We don't think we're moving."
So they haven't moved...and neither have we.
FALSE ALARM.
Should have trusted my feelings on this one.
Real moving is nothing like that. There's no time for shenanigans because you're too busy putting everything you own into boxes. So that you can shortly thereafter take everything out of the boxes. It's madness.
In our case, we had even less time for shenanigans because we had to find a place to live. Our landlord's house wasn't yet on the market, so we had time, but we didn't know exactly how much. The house could sell right away, in which case we would then have thirty days as the sale was going through. But the house could also be on the market for weeks or months, as had happened to several houses in our neighborhood.
"I don't think we have to worry," I informed my roommates. "Maybe the house won't sell. Maybe the buyers will want to rent to us still. I feel like everything is going to be okay."
But, understandably, that wasn't a huge comfort to my roommates. So we started holding roommate councils on Sunday nights. Soon we had a good four rental house walkthroughs lined up. Yes, you read that right...rental house. We decided we might as well rent our own place while we were making a change.
Here's what happened while we were house hunting: We looked at some very nice and not-so-nice houses. We met a potential landlady who made us uncomfortable by sharing weirdly personal information with us. We asked questions about microwaves, swamp coolers, garden boxes, parking, and bolting bookshelves to the wall. We got Indian food. We made lists. We were charmed by a early 20th-century home with an upstairs window alcove, but we couldn't get around the fact that the only bathroom was literally in the middle of one of the bedrooms. We sent each other links of other potential homes to visit, including some that we decided were kidnapping scams. Half our walkthroughs were rescheduled or canceled.
Towards the end of the preview for Max Keeble's Big Move, it cuts away again to Max Keeble talking to his parents. This time he says, "We're not moving?" Then he has to go back to school the next day and handle the fallout from all of the shenanigans he did on his intended last day of school. That always confused me. Even as a child, I knew that it was pretty unlikely that you would be moving one day and the next day suddenly not be moving.
But one other thing that happened while we were house hunting was that our landlord came back and said, "Just kidding. We don't think we're moving."
So they haven't moved...and neither have we.
FALSE ALARM.
Should have trusted my feelings on this one.
Tuesday, August 22, 2017
Total Eclipse
Heeey everybody,
So in case you didn't already hear from LITERALLY EVERYBODY, there was a solar eclipse yesterday.
Everybody else was all excited and chatty and making special plans.
And I'm just kind of in the corner like, "What? What is this? Why is this a thing and why does anyone care?"
Kind of an accurate representation of every social event I've ever attended, actually.
My workplace even held a party with ice cream and fruit salad. Granted, my workplace celebrates everything, but still. Still.
And then all the news outlets were like, "The solar eclipse is the only thing that can bring the divided nation together."
And I was like, "That's Fire Nation propaganda! The four nations are meant to be separate."
Speaking of the Fire Nation, I tried really hard to get someone to commit to invade with me.
First I hit up Little Sister and Little Brother. Little Sister seemed down with it but then I never heard back from her, probably because she's married so she can't commit to bringing down an empire and having a husband.
On the morning of the eclipse, I wished Best Friend Boy a happy half birthday. Then I lied and told him the eclipse was his half-birthday present and asked if he wanted to invade the Fire Nation. He said it was too late of notice to plan an invasion.
All I can say is that I hope everybody enjoyed staring at the sun when they could have been TOPPLING THE FIRELORD.
So in case you didn't already hear from LITERALLY EVERYBODY, there was a solar eclipse yesterday.
Everybody else was all excited and chatty and making special plans.
And I'm just kind of in the corner like, "What? What is this? Why is this a thing and why does anyone care?"
Kind of an accurate representation of every social event I've ever attended, actually.
My workplace even held a party with ice cream and fruit salad. Granted, my workplace celebrates everything, but still. Still.
And then all the news outlets were like, "The solar eclipse is the only thing that can bring the divided nation together."
And I was like, "That's Fire Nation propaganda! The four nations are meant to be separate."
Speaking of the Fire Nation, I tried really hard to get someone to commit to invade with me.
First I hit up Little Sister and Little Brother. Little Sister seemed down with it but then I never heard back from her, probably because she's married so she can't commit to bringing down an empire and having a husband.
On the morning of the eclipse, I wished Best Friend Boy a happy half birthday. Then I lied and told him the eclipse was his half-birthday present and asked if he wanted to invade the Fire Nation. He said it was too late of notice to plan an invasion.
All I can say is that I hope everybody enjoyed staring at the sun when they could have been TOPPLING THE FIRELORD.
Thursday, August 17, 2017
The Dream
For some girls, the dream is that she'll meet a guy somewhere. Instantly, sparks will fly. Instantly, there will be a connection. Later, he'll say that she was the prettiest girl he ever saw. They'll go on a date and know right away that they want to be together. Things will move quickly and soon they'll be married and blah, blah, blahbbity blahbbity blah.
If that dream is your dream, I don't mean to diss your dream by blah, blah blahbbity blahbbity blahing all over it. It's a lovely dream, after a fashion. It's just one that I don't understand.
I recently realized that I, too, have a dream. This is how it goes: I meet someone, and he doesn't like me like that. Not at all. Maybe he's just into some other girl, or maybe he doesn't care for my weird and obnoxious personality. That's okay with me, because I don't like him either. I may feel drawn to him, but only because I find him rather annoying. Eventually, we become friends. And then, a long time after that—probably a few years later—we decide to try dating, and because we're such good friends, things go well, and it becomes obvious that we would feel like we were missing out if we didn't marry each other.
Dream #2 here seems far more realistic than Dream #1. At least, I always thought so. But the older I get, the more it seems that almost everyone else is looking for—and then actually living—Dream #1.
I keep thinking I'll change my mind, but so far, I just haven't been able to work up any enthusiasm for Dream #1.
If that dream is your dream, I don't mean to diss your dream by blah, blah blahbbity blahbbity blahing all over it. It's a lovely dream, after a fashion. It's just one that I don't understand.
I recently realized that I, too, have a dream. This is how it goes: I meet someone, and he doesn't like me like that. Not at all. Maybe he's just into some other girl, or maybe he doesn't care for my weird and obnoxious personality. That's okay with me, because I don't like him either. I may feel drawn to him, but only because I find him rather annoying. Eventually, we become friends. And then, a long time after that—probably a few years later—we decide to try dating, and because we're such good friends, things go well, and it becomes obvious that we would feel like we were missing out if we didn't marry each other.
Dream #2 here seems far more realistic than Dream #1. At least, I always thought so. But the older I get, the more it seems that almost everyone else is looking for—and then actually living—Dream #1.
I keep thinking I'll change my mind, but so far, I just haven't been able to work up any enthusiasm for Dream #1.
Tuesday, August 15, 2017
Science and the Perfect Road Trip
I've seen this pin on Pinterest so many times.
Each time, I come up with three theories about it:
- The person who wrote it is lying through their teeth.
- There are secretly scientists in this country who analyze road trips.
- Some random physicist and biologist and maybe like a chemist were like, "Yeah, I'd call this the perfect road trip,'' thus making the statement technically true but rather misleading.
Saturday, August 12, 2017
Lies from eBay
I do most of my online shopping on Amazon, but occasionally I'll also buy something on eBay. Items I have bought from eBay include old toys for Little Sister, Nintendo DS games for Baby Brother, and perfume for myself.
When I got an email from eBay saying, "Awkward Mormon Girl! We thought of you as soon as we noticed these products" I assumed that I would see an assortment of items related to previous purchases, like with Amazon recommendations. However, instead I was shown such items as this:
And this:
And this:
And my personal favorite:
I suspect eBay is not telling the truth and these items did not make them think of me. Otherwise I am giving some real mixed messages about my interests.
Friday, August 11, 2017
Why I Do It
My brothers had the time of their lives last week.
My parents got them passes to a YouTube convention here in Utah. They met some of their favorite celebrities (apart from Imagineers and Muppeteers, obviously). These celebrities include the Ballinger family, a cute Christian family whose dad is a magician and um I'm not sure what else it is they do but now they're famous, and my brothers are obsessed. They've been talking about the cute little boy in the family, Parker, for years. Yesterday they sent me approximately 10,000 photos of them hanging out with Parker. Because apparently they actually got to hang out with celebrities at this convention. It sounds waaay cooler than Comic Con.
I think Little Brother would love to attend this convention as an actual guest. He's had various YouTube channels over the years with varying degrees of success. A few years ago, he committed himself to a schedule of posting videos. After a few months, he told me that he didn't want to do it anymore. He said it was too stressful and it wasn't bringing him any happiness.
Here's what I've learned: if you're doing a creative thing just for fun and happiness, then great. It doesn't matter if you finish it or anyone else ever sees it, because it's just for fun and to make you happy. But if you do it for any other reason—like sharing it with others or for work or to get famous—then at some point, for some period of time, it's not going to be fun and it's not going to make you happy.
Sometimes, this blog isn't that fun to keep up and it doesn't make me that happy. There are days when I think it would make me much happier if I only wrote posts when I felt like it. If I wrote only when I was feeling it, sometimes posts would be only a few days apart, but sometimes they would be weeks, months, or even years apart. I keep posting regularly because I feel like the blog is adding something to the world. And I want to tell my own story. Also, when you work in the writing field, it's good to give yourself deadlines and then follow up on them. It builds discipline and perseverance, which is very useful since writing is largely self-directed.
I think it would be great for Little Brother to someday be an idea guy like Walt Disney or Jim Henson. He could bounce from idea to idea and discipline to discipline because people would be willing to invest in his ideas. However, most of us will never be idea people. To get anywhere, we'll just have to keep pushing.
My parents got them passes to a YouTube convention here in Utah. They met some of their favorite celebrities (apart from Imagineers and Muppeteers, obviously). These celebrities include the Ballinger family, a cute Christian family whose dad is a magician and um I'm not sure what else it is they do but now they're famous, and my brothers are obsessed. They've been talking about the cute little boy in the family, Parker, for years. Yesterday they sent me approximately 10,000 photos of them hanging out with Parker. Because apparently they actually got to hang out with celebrities at this convention. It sounds waaay cooler than Comic Con.
I think Little Brother would love to attend this convention as an actual guest. He's had various YouTube channels over the years with varying degrees of success. A few years ago, he committed himself to a schedule of posting videos. After a few months, he told me that he didn't want to do it anymore. He said it was too stressful and it wasn't bringing him any happiness.
Here's what I've learned: if you're doing a creative thing just for fun and happiness, then great. It doesn't matter if you finish it or anyone else ever sees it, because it's just for fun and to make you happy. But if you do it for any other reason—like sharing it with others or for work or to get famous—then at some point, for some period of time, it's not going to be fun and it's not going to make you happy.
Sometimes, this blog isn't that fun to keep up and it doesn't make me that happy. There are days when I think it would make me much happier if I only wrote posts when I felt like it. If I wrote only when I was feeling it, sometimes posts would be only a few days apart, but sometimes they would be weeks, months, or even years apart. I keep posting regularly because I feel like the blog is adding something to the world. And I want to tell my own story. Also, when you work in the writing field, it's good to give yourself deadlines and then follow up on them. It builds discipline and perseverance, which is very useful since writing is largely self-directed.
I think it would be great for Little Brother to someday be an idea guy like Walt Disney or Jim Henson. He could bounce from idea to idea and discipline to discipline because people would be willing to invest in his ideas. However, most of us will never be idea people. To get anywhere, we'll just have to keep pushing.
Friday, August 4, 2017
The One Where I Clean My Room
It's strange how quickly we get used to things.
When I moved out of my parents' house, I thought my apartment was the coolest thing in the world. After all, for a basement apartment, it's quite lovely. The living-kitchen area is ginormous, with tons of counter space. We have a small laundry room and a pantry. There's a linen closet, a coat closet, a skinny storage closet, and a boiler room/storage space. My room has a walk-in closet. (My roommates' rooms have them as well.) We get all of this at an excellent price that includes utilities.
The first year or two I lived here, keeping the space clean was exciting and easy. For one thing, I was only working about 30 hours a week, but for another thing, I just enjoyed the novelty of having my own place.
However, for at least the past year, keeping our apartment clean has sometimes been a bit of a struggle. It's especially difficult for me to keep my room clean at times. I'm really busy, nobody ever sees my room but me, and it's way easier to throw my clothes on the floor when I'm in a hurry than it is to put them in the hamper or back in the closet.
I planned no activities for July 1st, 2017. I planned no events and no rendezvous. I decided that was the day that I would be a real adult and take control of my life. So I spent almost all day at home...in my room...cleaning that sucker!
Around 4:00, I was able to call it a day. I'd done it! To celebrate, I got myself some takeout from Olive Garden.
I was reminded that, when it's clean, my room is actually pretty cool.
And I was like, "Yeah! I love my room! I love this place! I'm so lucky to have such an awesome apartment!"
Since my very successful day of cleaning my room was over, I decided to watch a movie with my brothers. Baby Brother and I were at the store looking for ice cream to go with said movie when I got a text from my landlord.
"Uh-oh," I said aloud.
The text informed me that my landlord and his wife were selling their house...which meant that they were selling our house...which meant my roommates and I would more than likely soon be homeless.
AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: Well...at least it will probably be easier to pack up my room...now that it's clean.
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