I told Little Sister that if she wanted another Ask Awkward Mormon Girl post, now was the time. She said okay, then sent the questions when I was sleeping at one a.m. on a Sunday morning.
• If six people were in a room and there were four flavors of potato chips, which type would the person on your left eat first?
Statistically speaking, apparently America's favorite chip is Cheetos. But I am not having that, so that's not my final answer, Alex.
I'm pretty sure that this puzzle is solved with logic. Like that riddle in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. You know "poison sits on the nettle wine's left side" and all that stuff. I'm going to run that through the logic part of my brain and get back to you.
• If you could pick one country to never take a cruise to, what would it be?
I was going to say Winnipeg as Winnipeg is landlocked. Too bad, because I'll never get to cruise there to enjoy their *Googles frantically* jazz festival and hot-smoked fish. But then I remembered that Winnipeg isn't a country. It's part of the country of Canada, which apparently you can cruise to if you live in New England.
So instead I'm going to say Andorra. To which you might say, "Where's Andorra?" to which I say, "Exactly."
• Should your sequel blog be entirely dedicated to posts about Little Sister?
Meh, I was actually thinking of something more along the lines of Alvin and the Chipmunks: the Squeakquel. I didn't particularly like that movie, but it did well enough for them to make two more, so.
I am also considering Awkward Mormon Girl 2: Electric Boogaloo.
• Better yet- should Little Sister write your sequel blog?
Sure. It can be ghostwritten. If you can find the time for that. (Spoiler: Little Sister is too busy to find the time for that.)
Love,
Little Sister
I've figured out the answer to the riddle.
The only time I can think of where I'd be in a room with five other people and also four kinds of potato chips is opening presents with my siblings on Christmas Day. Based on where we usually sit to open presents, the person to my left is Little Sister, who should be eating the Pringles that came in her own stocking first. Unless she's a stealer. In which case she might be eating the Pizza Pringles from my stocking.
Showing posts with label what is wrong with Little Sister? everything is wrong with Little Sister. Show all posts
Showing posts with label what is wrong with Little Sister? everything is wrong with Little Sister. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 18, 2018
Wednesday, January 31, 2018
Autocorrect
When I got my smartphone two and a half years ago, I was decidedly unimpressed. I asked Siri to find me a boyfriend and she wasn't able to. Ripoff.
Also, I quickly noticed a strange autocorrect setting. Any time I try to type "on" but accidentally type, "ob," the phone corrects it to "Brownies." With a capital B.
I consider this to be extremely unnatural, not least because I don't talk about brownies very much. Actually, for a long time there I suspected it was something Little Sister had set up on my phone (she looooves brownies and bugging me), but I never actually found out if that was the case...
Also, I quickly noticed a strange autocorrect setting. Any time I try to type "on" but accidentally type, "ob," the phone corrects it to "Brownies." With a capital B.
I consider this to be extremely unnatural, not least because I don't talk about brownies very much. Actually, for a long time there I suspected it was something Little Sister had set up on my phone (she looooves brownies and bugging me), but I never actually found out if that was the case...
Friday, October 6, 2017
Darn You, Childhood Passions
Little Sister sent me an email yesterday entitled "Darn you, Childhood Passions":
Gosh dang it. I've been betrayed by my teenage love of virtual pets!
Friday, April 14, 2017
Old Facebook Conversations with Little Sister
Just in case you were wondering, everything is happening right now. I have some major deadlines at work, my little sisters have finals coming up, Easter is this weekend, five members of my family have birthdays over the next six weeks, and Little Sister's wedding is fast approaching.
In other words, everyone is very stressed.
I did want to share these Facebook messages that Little Sister and I sent each other over the years. In case you can't tell, up until a few years ago a large percentage of my relationship with Little Sister was her harassing me with weird messages until I replied.
In other words, everyone is very stressed.
I did want to share these Facebook messages that Little Sister and I sent each other over the years. In case you can't tell, up until a few years ago a large percentage of my relationship with Little Sister was her harassing me with weird messages until I replied.
Monday, January 25, 2016
Mercury
Speaking of car trouble, Little Sister just got a new car. It's a blue-green Mercury that she is calling Hermes.
We were discussing Hermes through text.
Little Sister: Yeah, it's a weirdly nice but temperamental car
Little Sister: And a shaking nightmare on the freeway
Me: One might say it's...mercurial.
Me: Ba dum ching!
Little Sister: HAHAHAH
Little Sister: did you just come up with that??
Me: Yes. Yes, I did.
Little Sister: I HAVE A GENIUS SISTER
I do have some mad pun skillz.
Little Sister: And I set that joke up literally perfect for you.
Little Sister: Good team
Me: Together, we could rock the comedy world.
A few minutes later...
Me: I have another one.
Me: When you're in your car and you're backing up, you should cry, "MERCURY IS IN RETROGRADE!"
Little Sister: Hahahahaha Okay pretty good but you probably stop now while you're ahead.
We were discussing Hermes through text.
Little Sister: Yeah, it's a weirdly nice but temperamental car
Little Sister: And a shaking nightmare on the freeway
Me: One might say it's...mercurial.
Me: Ba dum ching!
Little Sister: HAHAHAH
Little Sister: did you just come up with that??
Me: Yes. Yes, I did.
Little Sister: I HAVE A GENIUS SISTER
I do have some mad pun skillz.
Little Sister: And I set that joke up literally perfect for you.
Little Sister: Good team
Me: Together, we could rock the comedy world.
A few minutes later...
Me: I have another one.
Me: When you're in your car and you're backing up, you should cry, "MERCURY IS IN RETROGRADE!"
Little Sister: Hahahahaha Okay pretty good but you probably stop now while you're ahead.
Thursday, November 26, 2015
A Post for Thanksgiving
My post today shall be divided into two parts. First is the part that I intended all along, and the second part was foisted upon me this morning. (I'll explain later.) But, without further ado, here's what I was planning to say to you today.
I have a lot of things to be grateful for, as I always do. My religion, my family, my friends, my country, my excellent roommates, my talents, my job, my Honda Accord, my super sweet apartment, my chance to travel to New York City this year, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. But I am particularly grateful for my parents.
My mom works as an RN, but being a mom is way more important to her than her career ever has been. This is an unpopular way to live. The thing is, though, is that I've always really needed my mom. Not some motherly caretaker figure. Not an involved teacher, nor a good babysitter, nor a particularly caring daycare owner. My grandmother babysat me and my siblings a lot during elementary school, and I loved her and it was great, but it wasn't the same as being cared for by my mom. I firmly believe that moms have special powers that allow them to help their kids in ways that no one else can. Even as an adult who lives away from home, I still need her opinion or her help because someone else's just won't do. Someone else can't get things right the way that my mom can.
Then there's my dad. Some of the same people who say that fathers should share in childcare responsibilities also say that fathers shouldn't necessarily have the right to be involved in a decision to abort their unborn child. These are just a few of the mixed messages out there about what it means to be a father. It's my observation that some dads are confused and frustrated about their role in their kids' lives. They don't really know what, exactly, they're supposed to be doing.
Well, dads, I can't tell you exactly what you're supposed to be doing. But I can tell you what my dad does for me. Over the years, my dad has driven me to one thousand plus parties and sporting events and college classes when I couldn't drive or was too scared to drive in the snow or had a broken-down car. He's fixed fuses in my car. He's scraped the ice off my windshield on cold winter morning. He's waited up for me to make sure I get home safe. He's taken me to basketball games, Shakespeare plays, movies, delicious restaurants, and musicals. He listens to me rant, even when he can't agree with what I'm saying. He let me read the fifth Harry Potter book before he did because he freely admitted I was a faster reader than he was.
A few weeks ago, I had a migraine, and I called my parents to ask if they had anything with caffeine in it. What I meant was soda, but a while later my dad rang the doorbell. I dragged myself out of bed, still half-asleep, and saw that he had brought me some migraine-strength medicine.
I was barely awake and bleary and grumpy. "I already have migraine medicine," I grumbled. "I was asking if you guys had soda because I don't want to eat anything with this medicine because I'm not hungry." Then I shut the door and went back to bed.
After a little while, it occurred to me that I hadn't even thanked him for coming to bring me medicine. I felt really bad. But then the doorbell rang again. This time, my dad was standing there with two ice-cold bottles of Dr. Pepper that he'd bought for me at the store.
If you're sad reading this because your parents haven't fulfilled their parental responsibilities the way that my parents have, remember that you can be a parent yourself. And then you, too, can experience the parent-child bond, just from the other side.
The second part of the post is a poem that Little Sister wrote this morning whilst watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade. The poem is about her experience watching the parade, and she specifically asked me to share it with you.
Acrostics and Stones May Break Out Groans
Toothless
Hi who are you
America
Ne-yo is a tinman
Kicklines
(here) For Broadway
U need voice lessons
Look, Ma, new bands!
After composing this interesting piece of literature, Little Sister then proceeded to do a close reading of her own work. Her scholarly notes are provided below.
T: When Toothless appeared onscreen, he was met with a "hoorah" and a general jubilee. We're thankful FOR YA, BUDDY!
H: Who are any of the people and why isn't the apple stem wearing green
A: America—see racism quotes above. (There was then an arrow to the following quotes: "Johnny Appleseed is a racist jerk," "I'm so sick of this racist parade.")
N: The Wiz Live! is coming and it actually looks pretty good. NEVER THOUGHT I'd say that but it's The Wiz so it can probably only get better.
K: Rockettes sorely disappointing.
F: Please have every Broadway show and also some of them twice, thanks.
U: I'm confused how you got famous but props to you.
L: SO MANY BANDS.
...Happy Thanksgiving.
I have a lot of things to be grateful for, as I always do. My religion, my family, my friends, my country, my excellent roommates, my talents, my job, my Honda Accord, my super sweet apartment, my chance to travel to New York City this year, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. But I am particularly grateful for my parents.
My mom works as an RN, but being a mom is way more important to her than her career ever has been. This is an unpopular way to live. The thing is, though, is that I've always really needed my mom. Not some motherly caretaker figure. Not an involved teacher, nor a good babysitter, nor a particularly caring daycare owner. My grandmother babysat me and my siblings a lot during elementary school, and I loved her and it was great, but it wasn't the same as being cared for by my mom. I firmly believe that moms have special powers that allow them to help their kids in ways that no one else can. Even as an adult who lives away from home, I still need her opinion or her help because someone else's just won't do. Someone else can't get things right the way that my mom can.
Then there's my dad. Some of the same people who say that fathers should share in childcare responsibilities also say that fathers shouldn't necessarily have the right to be involved in a decision to abort their unborn child. These are just a few of the mixed messages out there about what it means to be a father. It's my observation that some dads are confused and frustrated about their role in their kids' lives. They don't really know what, exactly, they're supposed to be doing.
Well, dads, I can't tell you exactly what you're supposed to be doing. But I can tell you what my dad does for me. Over the years, my dad has driven me to one thousand plus parties and sporting events and college classes when I couldn't drive or was too scared to drive in the snow or had a broken-down car. He's fixed fuses in my car. He's scraped the ice off my windshield on cold winter morning. He's waited up for me to make sure I get home safe. He's taken me to basketball games, Shakespeare plays, movies, delicious restaurants, and musicals. He listens to me rant, even when he can't agree with what I'm saying. He let me read the fifth Harry Potter book before he did because he freely admitted I was a faster reader than he was.
A few weeks ago, I had a migraine, and I called my parents to ask if they had anything with caffeine in it. What I meant was soda, but a while later my dad rang the doorbell. I dragged myself out of bed, still half-asleep, and saw that he had brought me some migraine-strength medicine.
I was barely awake and bleary and grumpy. "I already have migraine medicine," I grumbled. "I was asking if you guys had soda because I don't want to eat anything with this medicine because I'm not hungry." Then I shut the door and went back to bed.
After a little while, it occurred to me that I hadn't even thanked him for coming to bring me medicine. I felt really bad. But then the doorbell rang again. This time, my dad was standing there with two ice-cold bottles of Dr. Pepper that he'd bought for me at the store.
If you're sad reading this because your parents haven't fulfilled their parental responsibilities the way that my parents have, remember that you can be a parent yourself. And then you, too, can experience the parent-child bond, just from the other side.
The second part of the post is a poem that Little Sister wrote this morning whilst watching the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade. The poem is about her experience watching the parade, and she specifically asked me to share it with you.
Toothless
Hi who are you
America
Ne-yo is a tinman
Kicklines
(here) For Broadway
U need voice lessons
Look, Ma, new bands!
After composing this interesting piece of literature, Little Sister then proceeded to do a close reading of her own work. Her scholarly notes are provided below.
T: When Toothless appeared onscreen, he was met with a "hoorah" and a general jubilee. We're thankful FOR YA, BUDDY!
H: Who are any of the people and why isn't the apple stem wearing green
A: America—see racism quotes above. (There was then an arrow to the following quotes: "Johnny Appleseed is a racist jerk," "I'm so sick of this racist parade.")
N: The Wiz Live! is coming and it actually looks pretty good. NEVER THOUGHT I'd say that but it's The Wiz so it can probably only get better.
K: Rockettes sorely disappointing.
F: Please have every Broadway show and also some of them twice, thanks.
U: I'm confused how you got famous but props to you.
L: SO MANY BANDS.
...Happy Thanksgiving.
Friday, November 20, 2015
Texts from Little Sister
I've had a busy week! I've been participating in NaNoWriMo/sick/listening to Christmas music on the radio without any shame. So I do not have a written story for you tonight, but I do have this text conversation that Little Sister and I had. P.S. In the Obnoxious family, we tend to talk over each other a lot. And when we're texting, we may send a text even when we can see that the other person is still responding to our last text. 'Cause that's how we roll.
Tuesday, October 13, 2015
Disenchanted
On Thursday, Little Sister frantically sent me a link to an article. At least, I assumed it was sent frantically from the all-caps words that accompanied the link.
The link was to an article that says Disney is filming a sequel to their amazing movie Enchanted. And the all-caps text was as follows.
Little Sister: WE ALREADY MADE THIS MOVIE
Little Sister: WE SHOULD HAVE COPYRIGHTED IT OR SOMETHING
Because, you see, the article said that this sequel is rumored to be called Disenchanted. But guess what? Several years ago, my younger siblings and I made a parody of Enchanted. And guess what we called it?
You guessed it.
So something is rotten in the state of Denmark. 'Cause it's possible that Disney is taking credit for our brilliant idea of a movie.
But. Let me tell you what I'm gonna do. I'm going to describe to you our beautiful movie Disenchanted. And then if Disney's Disenchanted is anything like our Disenchanted, you can help stand up for truth and justice and independent filmmakers who are also children.
Our story begins with the Fairy Godchild Princess (Baby Sister). The FGP opens up a storybook and introduces us to a picture of Lizelia. She tells us important things about Lizelia, like that Lizelia loves all bugs and animals. Also that Lizelia is engaged to Prince Sam, but Prince Sam was recently turned into a troll. Nobody ever explains how this happened.
It's important to note that Baby Brother was still toddler age when we filmed Disenchanted. He was assigned the role of Prince Sam the troll. However, toddlers are known to struggle with certain aspects of filmmaking, particularly the concept that they don't get to be in every shot. Whenever we tried to keep Baby Brother behind the camera, he would scream and cry and make it impossible for the camera to pick up on what the actors were saying. Therefore, we allowed him to wander freely in front of the camera, even during scenes that he wasn't supposed to be in.
So while Baby Sister aka the FGP is doing all this narration, Baby Brother aka Sam the Troll is talking over her and asking questions in his high-pitched toddler voice.
The camera next turns to Lizelia, who is an American Girl Doll voiced by Little Sister. Little Sister tells her animal friends how sad she is.
LIZELIA: I'm sad because my prince is a troll, and he's rude now.
Please note that Little Brother is audibly whispering Little Sister's lines to her from offscreen.
Lizelia inexplicably decides to climb on a windowsill. She even more inexplicably falls off. And then the most inexplicable thing of all happens: all her animal friends decide to jump off the windowsill after her.
This chain of poor decision-making leads Lizelia and her animal friends to land in a hotel room in Los Angeles, which is apparently what happens when you fall off a windowsill in fairytale world. Lizelia, now a human played by Little Sister, is so confused by this that she decides to take a nap on the floor.
While Lizelia is napping, Sam the troll once again walks into a shot that he is not supposed to be a part of. Lizelia wakes up long enough to exclaim that she misses Sam so much that sometimes she imagines that he is near her even when he is not.
Frederick von Hoozer Howzer, played by Awkward Mormon Girl, arrives home to discover that there is a strange girl in his hotel room. He makes an appropriate expression of surprise.
FREDERICK: Well, hay the horses!
Frederick and Lizelia have a conversation, during which it becomes apparent that Lizelia doesn't understand anything, including how to pronounce people's last names.
LIZELIA: Please to meet you, Frederick von Hoozer Howzer! Or is it Howzer Hoozer?
Lizelia explains the situation to Frederick, who gives another appropriate expression of surprise.
FREDERICK: Well, ain't that the darndest thing I ever heard!
He tells Lizelia where she is.
FREDERICK: You're in Cal-i-for-ni-ay!
LIZELIA: Oh. Can I eat California?
FREDERICK: Well, you could, but you'd have a mighty big stomachache after!
Frederick decides that there's no harm in letting a strange, naive girl stay in his hotel room, and the next scene is Lizelia waking up on Frederick's couch the next day. She decides that she needs to sew herself new clothes.
LIZELIA: It's highly not fashionable to wear this your whole lifetime in California.
After she sews new clothes out of couch covers and a tablecloth (which takes literally twenty seconds because she just touches them and says, "Sew sew sew!) she decides to clean Frederick's hotel room.
The next ten or so minutes is a dance scene with shaky cam while Lizelia cleans the hotel room with the help of the animals. This scene is notable for Little Brother shouted lyrics about cleanliness over other, popular songs that are playing in the CD player. It is also notable because towards the end of the scene, I realized that if we turned the camera off and on in a certain way, we could make people and objects disappear and reappear at will.
We used this new device judiciously and frugally to allow for maximum effect each time it was used.
Just kidding. We used the heck out of our new trick.
First Lizelia's animal friends disappear. Then Frederick says that he has to get to work and disappears also.
After the second of 10,000,678 costume changes she will undergo during this movie, Lizelia decides to try disappearing also.
LIZELIA: I'M GOING TO LEAVE NOW.
Nothing happens.
LIZELIA: (throws her arms up in the air) Poof! Poof! It's not working!
Leaving Lizelia alone with her struggle, we travel back to the fairytale world, where Prince Sam the troll is busy admiring himself upside-down in the mirror.
As you may have guessed from his inability to stay out of a shot, the toddler Baby Brother really enjoyed being filmed by others. However, his real love was to be given the video camera, flip the lense, and video himself. This resulted in an upside-down picture, but the kid didn't care whatsoever.
So to simulate Prince Sam looking at himself in the mirror, we let Baby Brother video his own face with the camera while we fed him his lines from offscreen.
ONE OF THE SIBLINGS: Say, "Ee-ee-ee! I'm so pretty!"
SAM:(accidentally moves the camera so that it's only videoing half of his face) Oh! I have one eye!
SAM:(accidentally moves camera again) I have two eyes! (moves it once more) ...I have one eye again.
Eventually, we got him to say the lines we wanted.
SAM: Lookit my farkly blue ice! Lookit my furly little teef!
(Translation: Look at my sparkly blue eyes! Look at my pearly little teeth!)
Cut to Sam sitting on a couch.
SAM: Prince Joe! Tum here!
Prince Joe (Little Brother), Sam's best friend and the FGP's betrothed, arrives with much fanfare.
JOE: (sings) I'm Prince Joe! La la la la la! I'm not the princess, I'm not the king! No queen no no no!
Sam asks Joe to go find Lizelia and take care of her in between now and the wedding. So Joe, with zero effort, disappears and reappears in Frederick's hotel room in Los Angeles.
So far, everything's going swimmingly, which is why it's time to introduce a villain played by Baby Sister. Our next cut takes us to Sam's mother, Queen Twre, otherwise known as the witch.
The witch's costume consists of a blanket that Baby Sister threw over her FGP costume and pulled over her head to create a kind of cloak.
WITCH: I'm Queen Twre, and I won't let anyone get in my way, especially my little troll son!
The witch monologues about her motives and plots. She doesn't want Sam to be king, but she especially doesn't want him to marry Lizelia. So she decides the best course of action will be to turn Lizelia into a mermaid.
Meanwhile, Joe tells Lizelia that he willbabysit spend time with her while Sam gets ready for the wedding back in the fairytale world. Lizelia, who has once again changed clothes, agrees to a picnic.
Joe, Lizelia, and Sam ("I imagine Sam here with me all the time. But he's not really here; I just imagine him.") go on a picnic. Other than the fact that Lizelia tries to eat Joe's pen, it's a pretty uneventful meal until the witch shows up in disguise and offers Lizelia a soda.
Lizelia decides to drink the soda offered her by a complete stranger. But the soda, which is supposed to turn Lizelia into a mermaid, doesn't work.
The witch poofs in and says, "It didn't work!" She then proceeds to hatch a new plan. She starts singing, but then remembers how much she hates singing, and ends by singing a song that goes thusly, "I don't like singing! I don't like singing!"
The witch isn't the only person who hates singing. Suddenly, we cut to the Fairy Godchild Princess, the narrator at the beginning of the movie, to find out what's going on with her life. Voiceover tells us that everyone in the FGP's kingdom likes to sing, but that the FGP hates that stuff. She prefers to dance.
VOICEOVER: Until one day...
I should explain that, during this time of their lives, Baby Sister and Little Sister were in an obscure children's musical. Baby Sister, really, really wanted to sing one of the songs from that show in this movie. So much that she decided to sing it even though it added zero plot points.
FGP: (sings) IIIIIII... I feel a song coming on... and it's a magorious, something and glorious...
Please note that Baby Sister did not actually know the words.
At this point, Little Sister decided to create a new character. So she wrapped a blanket around her waist to make a costume for a new character and hopped in front of the camera, pretending to be a lady-in-waiting.
LADY-IN-WAITING: (sings) We, we feel a song coming on!
FGP, who does not want to sing with the lady-in-waiting, stops singing. They embrace and then poof out of the frame.
Next, the camera focuses on the front door. A lady wearing a blue bathrobe, chewing gum, and carrying a shopping bag walks in. The cameraperson remarks that this woman is not supposed to be on. The witch is supposed to be on!
The lady in the blue bathrobe remarks that she is the witch; she just changed and went shopping. She tells the cameraperson to follow her into the bathroom because she wants to show them something. Sure enough, she gives a lengthy exposition about her new plan and shows how she is poisoning the apple she just bought from the store. She seems very pleased with herself.
WITCH: Don't laugh at my gum!
She starts to sing and dance about the gum but then she remembers how much she hates singing and dancing.
Meanwhile, Lizelia decides to pass the time by doing crafts. She decides to make a model of a prince. However, she runs out of craft supplies partway through, so she cups her hands around her mouth and yells, "Frederick!"
Apparently that's Frederick's bat signal or something, because he immediately poofs in and yells, "Whaa-aat?"
He agrees to go in search of new craft supplies. He poofs in and out of the hotel room several times, bringing such things as crumpled paper, a hairbrush, a noisemaker, a pink bathrobe, and some marbles.
Even though Lizelia's betrothed, Sam, has blue eyes, she chooses to use brown marbles for her model prince's eyes. Guess who has brown eyes? Joe. DUN DUN DUN.
We move away from Lizelia's crafts to the scheme of the witch. She poofs in and comments on Frederick's pink bathrobe.
WITCH: I wonder... Frederick!
FREDERICK: Whaa-aat?
The pink bathrobe poofs onto the witch. The witch celebrates by dancing and singing about how much she hates bathrobes before disappearing.
Frederick, however, is much less jubilant. He vows that he will be avenged.
FREDERICK: I will get my bathrobe BAAACK!
Meanwhile, Sam calls Joe and asks him to take Lizelia to the ball.
JOE: Okay, Sammy! Whoo!
Out of spite, the witch destroys the prince statue that Lizelia made.
WITCH: (to the camera) Do you like my pink bathrobe? It is hot.
Things are finally going well for the witch. She is so jubilant that she decides to mess with the FGP by sending her to California for the ball. The witch's spell sends not only the FGP but also her hopping lady-in-waiting to California.
WITCH: I am going for the best person who wears bathrobes, even when she goes shopping.
The FGP appears in Frederick's hotel room.
FREDERICK: Well, hay the horses!
The FGP tries to tell her story to Frederick, but Frederick tells her that he's had enough of fairytale girls appearing in his hotel room. He disappears. From off-camera, Little Brother whispers, "Say, 'People come and go so quickly here.'"
FGP: ...People come and go so quickly here!
Joe tells Lizelia that they will go to the ball, where they will meet Sam. Then Sam and Lizelia can be married.
Lizelia is conflicted about this, but there's one thing that she's sure about.
LIZELIA: Just one minute... just one second... Frederick!
FREDERICK: Whaa-aat?
Lizelia invites him to the ball. First, though, she has to change her outfit, as usual.
Lizelia goes in and out of the front door, coming back with a different outfit each time while the camerperson (currently Baby Sister) comments on it.
BABY SISTER: I don't think so. Get. Back. To the mall. Mm-hmm.
Lizelia even tries on the pink bathrobe that the witch stole from Frederick.
BABY SISTER: What does the witch look like? Is she wearing anything?
Finally, Lizelia emerges wearing a beautiful red-and-gold ball gown. She's ready for the ball!
All the characters go to the ball. Lizelia dances with her betrothed, Sam, even though it is clear that she is totes in love with Joe.
Because the ball scene was done on a budget of negative dollars, it consists of me placing the camera at a stationary vantage point to video the dancing characters while I bang out a few songs over and over again on the piano.
We then go to Sam, who has left the ball to enjoy looking at himself upside-down in the mirror. He makes faces at himself and won't dance with Lizelia. She begs him to come back to the party.
SAM: (looks at Lizelia) Who are you?
This was not the line we kept telling him to say, but 'twas effective nonetheless.
Though hurt and offended, Lizelia finally gets Sam to dance with her. And while they're dancing, she sings a little song of Little Brother's invention.
LIZELIA: (sings) I don't know where I am. And now that I'm rescued by Sam, I don't want to go. Oh don't you know? I want to stay with Joe...forever,
Joe overhears Lizelia singing, and he stands there stricken. Like he's just had a heart attack or something.
Remember that song that Baby Sister wanted to sing? Well, she was ticked off with Little Sister for interrupting her earlier. Therefore she stopped the progress of the entire movie so that she could sing the song again.
FGP: (sings) IIIIIII... I feel a song coming on...
And this time, when Little Sister tries to upstage her, Baby Sister full-on slaps her.
Once that's done, the ball is over and it's time for Sam and Lizelia to go get married. Sam declares that he will go call a carriage.
SAM: I just walk down the stairs and I sall a sarriage!
While Lizelia waits for Sam, the witch pops in behind her. She offers Lizelia the poisoned apple.
WITCH: Eat it or wear it!
Lizelia looks at the camera in panic. Little did we know that Little Sister was afraid to bite into the apple because of her braces. And since Lizelia won't bite the apple, the witch just keeps talking. And talking.
WITCH: Taste it, or else I shall make you eat it more and then you'll die quicker!
LIZELIA: ...what?
WITCH: Just forget about that.
She tells Lizelia that the apple is special and that eating it will take her to a better world and a new life where Lizelia can fix her mistakes and find a better prince.
After the much-prolonged scene, Lizelia bites the apple and then collapses.
Joe and Sam rush to Lizelia's aid. Joe remarks that true love's kiss is the most powerful thing in the world. First Sam kisses Lizelia, but she doesn't wake. So then Joe kisses her, and she does wake. Joe is Lizelia's true love!
The witch, of course, is mad that she lost. She says she has the perfect solution! She turns into a snake, then a lizard, then a dragon. However, nobody seems to notice.
WITCH: It's not working!
So in the end, the witch just turns back into herself.
WITCH: Don't I look so much beautifuller than those other things? Look at my gorgeous legs!
It would seem that Sam comes by his self-centeredness honestly.
Speaking of Sam, now that Lizelia and Joe are together, that leaves the FGP and Sam without anyone. They get into conversation, and the FGP offers to use her magic to turn Sam back from a troll into a normal prince.
The FGP comments that now Sam is a prince!
SAM: And you turned into a frincess!
FGP: I already was a princess.
She begins to sing a song of true love to Sam, but he ignores her.
SAM: You're a frincess now!
Finally, the FGP gets him to pay attention to her long enough for them to sing together and kiss.
That leaves just one loose end to tie up. The witch poofs away to mourn her failure.
WITCH: I am sad and in doom!
Then Frederick poofs in and challenges her to a duel. Thus the battle for the pink bathrobe begins.
After a very cool battle with many visual effect, Frederick wins.
FREDERICK: I claim this land for Cal-i-for-ni-ay, and you know what that means, sister!
The bathrobe appears back on Frederick. The characters gather and exclaim that now they can have a happy ending!
Everyone poofs away, leaving Lizelia alone.
LIZELIA: Poof! Poof!
Nothing happens.
LIZELIA: This is so not a happy ending.
Then Sam appears with a sign that says, "The End."
Then we cut to the FGP, closing the book that she was reading out of at the beginning of the movie.
FGP: And that's the end!
Little Brother puts another sign in front of the camera.
LITTLE BROTHER: (from offscreen) The end! (flips sign) And the end.
So there you have it, folks. Disenchanted. Now, the Disney movie will likely not come out for a few years. But when it does, all y'all can be my witnesses that we created this movie long before Disney ever did. And if their version includes any of the elements from the movie above, such as magically disappearing or reappearing or toddler actors or pink bathrobes, then you can be witnesses in our lawsuit. I'm thinking we'd settle for our names in the credits, five percent of the movie's earnings, and a signed cardboard cutout of James Marsden.
The link was to an article that says Disney is filming a sequel to their amazing movie Enchanted. And the all-caps text was as follows.
Little Sister: WE ALREADY MADE THIS MOVIE
Little Sister: WE SHOULD HAVE COPYRIGHTED IT OR SOMETHING
Because, you see, the article said that this sequel is rumored to be called Disenchanted. But guess what? Several years ago, my younger siblings and I made a parody of Enchanted. And guess what we called it?
You guessed it.
So something is rotten in the state of Denmark. 'Cause it's possible that Disney is taking credit for our brilliant idea of a movie.
But. Let me tell you what I'm gonna do. I'm going to describe to you our beautiful movie Disenchanted. And then if Disney's Disenchanted is anything like our Disenchanted, you can help stand up for truth and justice and independent filmmakers who are also children.
Our story begins with the Fairy Godchild Princess (Baby Sister). The FGP opens up a storybook and introduces us to a picture of Lizelia. She tells us important things about Lizelia, like that Lizelia loves all bugs and animals. Also that Lizelia is engaged to Prince Sam, but Prince Sam was recently turned into a troll. Nobody ever explains how this happened.
It's important to note that Baby Brother was still toddler age when we filmed Disenchanted. He was assigned the role of Prince Sam the troll. However, toddlers are known to struggle with certain aspects of filmmaking, particularly the concept that they don't get to be in every shot. Whenever we tried to keep Baby Brother behind the camera, he would scream and cry and make it impossible for the camera to pick up on what the actors were saying. Therefore, we allowed him to wander freely in front of the camera, even during scenes that he wasn't supposed to be in.
So while Baby Sister aka the FGP is doing all this narration, Baby Brother aka Sam the Troll is talking over her and asking questions in his high-pitched toddler voice.
The camera next turns to Lizelia, who is an American Girl Doll voiced by Little Sister. Little Sister tells her animal friends how sad she is.
LIZELIA: I'm sad because my prince is a troll, and he's rude now.
Please note that Little Brother is audibly whispering Little Sister's lines to her from offscreen.
Lizelia inexplicably decides to climb on a windowsill. She even more inexplicably falls off. And then the most inexplicable thing of all happens: all her animal friends decide to jump off the windowsill after her.
This chain of poor decision-making leads Lizelia and her animal friends to land in a hotel room in Los Angeles, which is apparently what happens when you fall off a windowsill in fairytale world. Lizelia, now a human played by Little Sister, is so confused by this that she decides to take a nap on the floor.
While Lizelia is napping, Sam the troll once again walks into a shot that he is not supposed to be a part of. Lizelia wakes up long enough to exclaim that she misses Sam so much that sometimes she imagines that he is near her even when he is not.
Frederick von Hoozer Howzer, played by Awkward Mormon Girl, arrives home to discover that there is a strange girl in his hotel room. He makes an appropriate expression of surprise.
FREDERICK: Well, hay the horses!
Frederick and Lizelia have a conversation, during which it becomes apparent that Lizelia doesn't understand anything, including how to pronounce people's last names.
LIZELIA: Please to meet you, Frederick von Hoozer Howzer! Or is it Howzer Hoozer?
Lizelia explains the situation to Frederick, who gives another appropriate expression of surprise.
FREDERICK: Well, ain't that the darndest thing I ever heard!
He tells Lizelia where she is.
FREDERICK: You're in Cal-i-for-ni-ay!
LIZELIA: Oh. Can I eat California?
FREDERICK: Well, you could, but you'd have a mighty big stomachache after!
Frederick decides that there's no harm in letting a strange, naive girl stay in his hotel room, and the next scene is Lizelia waking up on Frederick's couch the next day. She decides that she needs to sew herself new clothes.
LIZELIA: It's highly not fashionable to wear this your whole lifetime in California.
After she sews new clothes out of couch covers and a tablecloth (which takes literally twenty seconds because she just touches them and says, "Sew sew sew!) she decides to clean Frederick's hotel room.
The next ten or so minutes is a dance scene with shaky cam while Lizelia cleans the hotel room with the help of the animals. This scene is notable for Little Brother shouted lyrics about cleanliness over other, popular songs that are playing in the CD player. It is also notable because towards the end of the scene, I realized that if we turned the camera off and on in a certain way, we could make people and objects disappear and reappear at will.
We used this new device judiciously and frugally to allow for maximum effect each time it was used.
Just kidding. We used the heck out of our new trick.
First Lizelia's animal friends disappear. Then Frederick says that he has to get to work and disappears also.
After the second of 10,000,678 costume changes she will undergo during this movie, Lizelia decides to try disappearing also.
LIZELIA: I'M GOING TO LEAVE NOW.
Nothing happens.
LIZELIA: (throws her arms up in the air) Poof! Poof! It's not working!
Leaving Lizelia alone with her struggle, we travel back to the fairytale world, where Prince Sam the troll is busy admiring himself upside-down in the mirror.
As you may have guessed from his inability to stay out of a shot, the toddler Baby Brother really enjoyed being filmed by others. However, his real love was to be given the video camera, flip the lense, and video himself. This resulted in an upside-down picture, but the kid didn't care whatsoever.
So to simulate Prince Sam looking at himself in the mirror, we let Baby Brother video his own face with the camera while we fed him his lines from offscreen.
ONE OF THE SIBLINGS: Say, "Ee-ee-ee! I'm so pretty!"
SAM:(accidentally moves the camera so that it's only videoing half of his face) Oh! I have one eye!
SAM:(accidentally moves camera again) I have two eyes! (moves it once more) ...I have one eye again.
Eventually, we got him to say the lines we wanted.
SAM: Lookit my farkly blue ice! Lookit my furly little teef!
(Translation: Look at my sparkly blue eyes! Look at my pearly little teeth!)
Cut to Sam sitting on a couch.
SAM: Prince Joe! Tum here!
Prince Joe (Little Brother), Sam's best friend and the FGP's betrothed, arrives with much fanfare.
JOE: (sings) I'm Prince Joe! La la la la la! I'm not the princess, I'm not the king! No queen no no no!
Sam asks Joe to go find Lizelia and take care of her in between now and the wedding. So Joe, with zero effort, disappears and reappears in Frederick's hotel room in Los Angeles.
So far, everything's going swimmingly, which is why it's time to introduce a villain played by Baby Sister. Our next cut takes us to Sam's mother, Queen Twre, otherwise known as the witch.
The witch's costume consists of a blanket that Baby Sister threw over her FGP costume and pulled over her head to create a kind of cloak.
WITCH: I'm Queen Twre, and I won't let anyone get in my way, especially my little troll son!
The witch monologues about her motives and plots. She doesn't want Sam to be king, but she especially doesn't want him to marry Lizelia. So she decides the best course of action will be to turn Lizelia into a mermaid.
Meanwhile, Joe tells Lizelia that he will
Joe, Lizelia, and Sam ("I imagine Sam here with me all the time. But he's not really here; I just imagine him.") go on a picnic. Other than the fact that Lizelia tries to eat Joe's pen, it's a pretty uneventful meal until the witch shows up in disguise and offers Lizelia a soda.
Lizelia decides to drink the soda offered her by a complete stranger. But the soda, which is supposed to turn Lizelia into a mermaid, doesn't work.
The witch poofs in and says, "It didn't work!" She then proceeds to hatch a new plan. She starts singing, but then remembers how much she hates singing, and ends by singing a song that goes thusly, "I don't like singing! I don't like singing!"
The witch isn't the only person who hates singing. Suddenly, we cut to the Fairy Godchild Princess, the narrator at the beginning of the movie, to find out what's going on with her life. Voiceover tells us that everyone in the FGP's kingdom likes to sing, but that the FGP hates that stuff. She prefers to dance.
VOICEOVER: Until one day...
I should explain that, during this time of their lives, Baby Sister and Little Sister were in an obscure children's musical. Baby Sister, really, really wanted to sing one of the songs from that show in this movie. So much that she decided to sing it even though it added zero plot points.
FGP: (sings) IIIIIII... I feel a song coming on... and it's a magorious, something and glorious...
Please note that Baby Sister did not actually know the words.
At this point, Little Sister decided to create a new character. So she wrapped a blanket around her waist to make a costume for a new character and hopped in front of the camera, pretending to be a lady-in-waiting.
LADY-IN-WAITING: (sings) We, we feel a song coming on!
FGP, who does not want to sing with the lady-in-waiting, stops singing. They embrace and then poof out of the frame.
Next, the camera focuses on the front door. A lady wearing a blue bathrobe, chewing gum, and carrying a shopping bag walks in. The cameraperson remarks that this woman is not supposed to be on. The witch is supposed to be on!
The lady in the blue bathrobe remarks that she is the witch; she just changed and went shopping. She tells the cameraperson to follow her into the bathroom because she wants to show them something. Sure enough, she gives a lengthy exposition about her new plan and shows how she is poisoning the apple she just bought from the store. She seems very pleased with herself.
WITCH: Don't laugh at my gum!
She starts to sing and dance about the gum but then she remembers how much she hates singing and dancing.
Meanwhile, Lizelia decides to pass the time by doing crafts. She decides to make a model of a prince. However, she runs out of craft supplies partway through, so she cups her hands around her mouth and yells, "Frederick!"
Apparently that's Frederick's bat signal or something, because he immediately poofs in and yells, "Whaa-aat?"
He agrees to go in search of new craft supplies. He poofs in and out of the hotel room several times, bringing such things as crumpled paper, a hairbrush, a noisemaker, a pink bathrobe, and some marbles.
Even though Lizelia's betrothed, Sam, has blue eyes, she chooses to use brown marbles for her model prince's eyes. Guess who has brown eyes? Joe. DUN DUN DUN.
We move away from Lizelia's crafts to the scheme of the witch. She poofs in and comments on Frederick's pink bathrobe.
WITCH: I wonder... Frederick!
FREDERICK: Whaa-aat?
The pink bathrobe poofs onto the witch. The witch celebrates by dancing and singing about how much she hates bathrobes before disappearing.
Frederick, however, is much less jubilant. He vows that he will be avenged.
FREDERICK: I will get my bathrobe BAAACK!
Meanwhile, Sam calls Joe and asks him to take Lizelia to the ball.
JOE: Okay, Sammy! Whoo!
Out of spite, the witch destroys the prince statue that Lizelia made.
WITCH: (to the camera) Do you like my pink bathrobe? It is hot.
Things are finally going well for the witch. She is so jubilant that she decides to mess with the FGP by sending her to California for the ball. The witch's spell sends not only the FGP but also her hopping lady-in-waiting to California.
WITCH: I am going for the best person who wears bathrobes, even when she goes shopping.
The FGP appears in Frederick's hotel room.
FREDERICK: Well, hay the horses!
The FGP tries to tell her story to Frederick, but Frederick tells her that he's had enough of fairytale girls appearing in his hotel room. He disappears. From off-camera, Little Brother whispers, "Say, 'People come and go so quickly here.'"
FGP: ...People come and go so quickly here!
Joe tells Lizelia that they will go to the ball, where they will meet Sam. Then Sam and Lizelia can be married.
Lizelia is conflicted about this, but there's one thing that she's sure about.
LIZELIA: Just one minute... just one second... Frederick!
FREDERICK: Whaa-aat?
Lizelia invites him to the ball. First, though, she has to change her outfit, as usual.
Lizelia goes in and out of the front door, coming back with a different outfit each time while the camerperson (currently Baby Sister) comments on it.
BABY SISTER: I don't think so. Get. Back. To the mall. Mm-hmm.
Lizelia even tries on the pink bathrobe that the witch stole from Frederick.
BABY SISTER: What does the witch look like? Is she wearing anything?
Finally, Lizelia emerges wearing a beautiful red-and-gold ball gown. She's ready for the ball!
All the characters go to the ball. Lizelia dances with her betrothed, Sam, even though it is clear that she is totes in love with Joe.
Because the ball scene was done on a budget of negative dollars, it consists of me placing the camera at a stationary vantage point to video the dancing characters while I bang out a few songs over and over again on the piano.
We then go to Sam, who has left the ball to enjoy looking at himself upside-down in the mirror. He makes faces at himself and won't dance with Lizelia. She begs him to come back to the party.
SAM: (looks at Lizelia) Who are you?
This was not the line we kept telling him to say, but 'twas effective nonetheless.
Though hurt and offended, Lizelia finally gets Sam to dance with her. And while they're dancing, she sings a little song of Little Brother's invention.
LIZELIA: (sings) I don't know where I am. And now that I'm rescued by Sam, I don't want to go. Oh don't you know? I want to stay with Joe...forever,
Joe overhears Lizelia singing, and he stands there stricken. Like he's just had a heart attack or something.
Remember that song that Baby Sister wanted to sing? Well, she was ticked off with Little Sister for interrupting her earlier. Therefore she stopped the progress of the entire movie so that she could sing the song again.
FGP: (sings) IIIIIII... I feel a song coming on...
And this time, when Little Sister tries to upstage her, Baby Sister full-on slaps her.
Once that's done, the ball is over and it's time for Sam and Lizelia to go get married. Sam declares that he will go call a carriage.
SAM: I just walk down the stairs and I sall a sarriage!
While Lizelia waits for Sam, the witch pops in behind her. She offers Lizelia the poisoned apple.
WITCH: Eat it or wear it!
Lizelia looks at the camera in panic. Little did we know that Little Sister was afraid to bite into the apple because of her braces. And since Lizelia won't bite the apple, the witch just keeps talking. And talking.
WITCH: Taste it, or else I shall make you eat it more and then you'll die quicker!
LIZELIA: ...what?
WITCH: Just forget about that.
She tells Lizelia that the apple is special and that eating it will take her to a better world and a new life where Lizelia can fix her mistakes and find a better prince.
After the much-prolonged scene, Lizelia bites the apple and then collapses.
Joe and Sam rush to Lizelia's aid. Joe remarks that true love's kiss is the most powerful thing in the world. First Sam kisses Lizelia, but she doesn't wake. So then Joe kisses her, and she does wake. Joe is Lizelia's true love!
The witch, of course, is mad that she lost. She says she has the perfect solution! She turns into a snake, then a lizard, then a dragon. However, nobody seems to notice.
WITCH: It's not working!
So in the end, the witch just turns back into herself.
WITCH: Don't I look so much beautifuller than those other things? Look at my gorgeous legs!
It would seem that Sam comes by his self-centeredness honestly.
Speaking of Sam, now that Lizelia and Joe are together, that leaves the FGP and Sam without anyone. They get into conversation, and the FGP offers to use her magic to turn Sam back from a troll into a normal prince.
The FGP comments that now Sam is a prince!
SAM: And you turned into a frincess!
FGP: I already was a princess.
She begins to sing a song of true love to Sam, but he ignores her.
SAM: You're a frincess now!
Finally, the FGP gets him to pay attention to her long enough for them to sing together and kiss.
That leaves just one loose end to tie up. The witch poofs away to mourn her failure.
WITCH: I am sad and in doom!
Then Frederick poofs in and challenges her to a duel. Thus the battle for the pink bathrobe begins.
After a very cool battle with many visual effect, Frederick wins.
FREDERICK: I claim this land for Cal-i-for-ni-ay, and you know what that means, sister!
The bathrobe appears back on Frederick. The characters gather and exclaim that now they can have a happy ending!
Everyone poofs away, leaving Lizelia alone.
LIZELIA: Poof! Poof!
Nothing happens.
LIZELIA: This is so not a happy ending.
Then Sam appears with a sign that says, "The End."
Then we cut to the FGP, closing the book that she was reading out of at the beginning of the movie.
FGP: And that's the end!
Little Brother puts another sign in front of the camera.
LITTLE BROTHER: (from offscreen) The end! (flips sign) And the end.
So there you have it, folks. Disenchanted. Now, the Disney movie will likely not come out for a few years. But when it does, all y'all can be my witnesses that we created this movie long before Disney ever did. And if their version includes any of the elements from the movie above, such as magically disappearing or reappearing or toddler actors or pink bathrobes, then you can be witnesses in our lawsuit. I'm thinking we'd settle for our names in the credits, five percent of the movie's earnings, and a signed cardboard cutout of James Marsden.
Thursday, September 10, 2015
The Care and Keeping of Cuckoo Birds
It's been far too long since the last Ask Awkward Mormon Girl post! So, without further ado, I will answer your questions.
• Does reaching for the stars ever leave battle wounds?
(I have open blisters from where the rocks pulled off skin rock climbing. Totally worth it, but reminder that I didn't always make a reach. Would reaching for stars be similar?
In all honesty, most stars don't like to be reached for. Miley Cyrus is probably okay with it, but George Clooney hates it. But as long as you're not paparazzi, you'll probably leave un-wounded.
• If the guardians of the galaxy have a bake off width the avatar team... what would everyone make, and who would win?
Peter Quill would make brownies. Aang would make egg custard pie. Gamora would refuse to create her own entry, but would help Katara make baklava after Katara asked her nicely. Sokka and Toph would make a rhubarb cactus tart, but Toph would spend like only five percent of the time helping and ninety-five percent of the time using her earth bending seeing skills to spy on Rocket and Groot making vegan bran muffins. Drax would accidentally insult Zuko, who in his stiff and humorless fashion would fly into a rage and burn both Drax's cupcakes and his own sugar cookies. Uncle Iroh would judge Momo's peach macarons to be the winning entry, and Appa would eat all the leftovers.
(Someone turn this into a fanfiction please.)
And now, Little Sister's questions.
Dear Awkward Mormon Bird,
• How is anyone expected to keep their pet cuckoo bird alive when they hardly ever come out of their clock?!?!? PLEASE REALLY TELL ME ITS A LIFE OR DEATH SITUATION'
First of all, for the record, I object to being called a bird unless you are trying to say that I am a penguin. In that case, it would be a compliment.
Second of all, generally speaking, living creatures need only a few things to survive: shelter, air, food, and water.
Your cuckoo bird has a clock to live in, therefore it has shelter. You hear it pop out and cry, "Cuckoo!" on the hour. Crying "Cuckoo!" is not possible without air, therefore your cuckoo bird has air. Clocks are full of gears and springs which your cuckoo can eat if it gets hungry, so I wouldn't worry too much about the food part.
What your cuckoo bird lacks is water. Pour a generous cupful of water into your cuckoo clock so that the poor thing doesn't die of dehydration.
• What came first, the rain or the cloud? And if the cloud came first, how did the chicken survive without any water. Because ya know...no rain.
I'm pretty sure that the cloud did, in fact, come first.
As we previously discussed, living things generally do need water to survive. But good news--clouds are made of water. Also good news--the first chicken lived alongside dinosaurs. So whenever the chicken was thirsty, its brontosaurus friend would let it climb its neck. And then from there the chicken would climb onto the back of an equally friendly pterodactyl. And they would fly into the clouds and drink their fill.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to call Pixar. I think I've found a premise for a sequel to The Good Dinosaur.
But before I go, two notes.
NOTE #1: Speaking of chickens, I recently lent my apartment and my Stitch Fix box to the making of this YouTube video. I am quite pleased with how it turned out.
NOTE #2: Please leave questions in the comments! I'd love to do Ask Awkward Mormon Girl posts more often, but I need your questions! K thx bye.
• Does reaching for the stars ever leave battle wounds?
(I have open blisters from where the rocks pulled off skin rock climbing. Totally worth it, but reminder that I didn't always make a reach. Would reaching for stars be similar?
In all honesty, most stars don't like to be reached for. Miley Cyrus is probably okay with it, but George Clooney hates it. But as long as you're not paparazzi, you'll probably leave un-wounded.
• If the guardians of the galaxy have a bake off width the avatar team... what would everyone make, and who would win?
Peter Quill would make brownies. Aang would make egg custard pie. Gamora would refuse to create her own entry, but would help Katara make baklava after Katara asked her nicely. Sokka and Toph would make a rhubarb cactus tart, but Toph would spend like only five percent of the time helping and ninety-five percent of the time using her earth bending seeing skills to spy on Rocket and Groot making vegan bran muffins. Drax would accidentally insult Zuko, who in his stiff and humorless fashion would fly into a rage and burn both Drax's cupcakes and his own sugar cookies. Uncle Iroh would judge Momo's peach macarons to be the winning entry, and Appa would eat all the leftovers.
(Someone turn this into a fanfiction please.)
And now, Little Sister's questions.
Dear Awkward Mormon Bird,
• How is anyone expected to keep their pet cuckoo bird alive when they hardly ever come out of their clock?!?!? PLEASE REALLY TELL ME ITS A LIFE OR DEATH SITUATION'
First of all, for the record, I object to being called a bird unless you are trying to say that I am a penguin. In that case, it would be a compliment.
Second of all, generally speaking, living creatures need only a few things to survive: shelter, air, food, and water.
Your cuckoo bird has a clock to live in, therefore it has shelter. You hear it pop out and cry, "Cuckoo!" on the hour. Crying "Cuckoo!" is not possible without air, therefore your cuckoo bird has air. Clocks are full of gears and springs which your cuckoo can eat if it gets hungry, so I wouldn't worry too much about the food part.
What your cuckoo bird lacks is water. Pour a generous cupful of water into your cuckoo clock so that the poor thing doesn't die of dehydration.
• What came first, the rain or the cloud? And if the cloud came first, how did the chicken survive without any water. Because ya know...no rain.
I'm pretty sure that the cloud did, in fact, come first.
As we previously discussed, living things generally do need water to survive. But good news--clouds are made of water. Also good news--the first chicken lived alongside dinosaurs. So whenever the chicken was thirsty, its brontosaurus friend would let it climb its neck. And then from there the chicken would climb onto the back of an equally friendly pterodactyl. And they would fly into the clouds and drink their fill.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to call Pixar. I think I've found a premise for a sequel to The Good Dinosaur.
But before I go, two notes.
NOTE #1: Speaking of chickens, I recently lent my apartment and my Stitch Fix box to the making of this YouTube video. I am quite pleased with how it turned out.
NOTE #2: Please leave questions in the comments! I'd love to do Ask Awkward Mormon Girl posts more often, but I need your questions! K thx bye.
Friday, August 28, 2015
Same Old
You should know by now that Little Sister and I never have a normal conversation, through technology or otherwise.
Monday, June 29, 2015
In Which the Tourists Become the Tour Guides
Context: This post is about the sixth day of my New York City trip, which was our fifth day in the city.
On Sunday night, Dr. Godfather texted Older Sister and mentioned that his best friend's son had just moved to New York City for an accounting internship and that the kid was nervous about the whole thing. Dr. Godfather asked if we would be so kind as to meet up with his best friend's son the next evening and take him sightseeing.
Now, Dr. Godfather has worked with our mom for ages, he's an especial friend of our family, and, as a former native of New York City, he offered us extensive advice in planning our trip. We felt obliged to help him out, but that obligation didn't keep Older Sister from freaking out.
"What if Dr. Godfather's best friend's son is weird? What if he's a creep? What if he's really awkward?" We listened to her worries on Monday morning as we all prepared for the day.
After a breakfast graciously provided by our hotel, we took the subway to Battery Park. Near Battery Park, we boarded a ferry heading for the Statue of Liberty. The sky was gray--not rainy, but oppressive in its coloring. It was a little claustrophobic, like the curved dome of the IMAX screen at the Clark Planetarium. And Lady Liberty was, well, green. Smaller than expected. Difficult to see up close. But the ferry ride was lovely all the same.
The second, and final, ferry stop was at Ellis Island.
I once visited Dachau in Germany. The misery that place had seen was palpable. I could feel it everywhere. Likewise, last summer, my family visited the martyrdom site of the prophet Joseph Smith. Once again, I could feel the tragedy in the air. Whatever your personal beliefs may be, innocent men cut down in their prime is always a tragedy.
For some reason, I was expecting to feel that at Ellis Island. I'm not sure why. People did die there, and some families suffered the personal tragedy of parting forever when unhealthy members were sent back to the old country. But a lot of good happened at Ellis Island, too. As not-so-great as the United States could be in the late 1800s and early 1900s, it was infinitely better than what many people left behind. Parts of Ellis Island were definitely unfair and unpleasant, but the overall feeling I got from its halls was hope.
We did a walking tour of the entire museum. This was no small feat, considering we'd pretty much walked the length of Central Park the day before. The end of the tour found us collapsed on a wooden bench in the long upstairs room, listening to the description of the Kissing Post without actually walking over to see it.
We'd estimated that Ellis Island would take up most of our day, but in reality they only have the one building open for exploration. It was not quite lunchtime when we finished our sightseeing and caught the ferry back to Battery Park.
Earlier, we'd seen food stands in Battery Park selling churros. Now that we were done with our tour, we decided to purchase some. Eagerly anticipating the joy of hot fried dough coated in cinnamon and sugar, we forked over our money to the churro stand guy.
So what are churros like in New York City? Well, NYC is famous for all kinds of food: the best cheesecake, the best sushi, the best coal-fire pizza, Manhattan chowder, black-and-white cookies. But they aren't famous for churros, and that's because New York City churros are the worst.
Not joking. It was the worst churro I'd ever had. Maybe New York City lacks sufficient Southwest influence, but they don't seem to understand the concept of fried dough. Our churros were baked, dry, and heavy. They had cream in the middle, which was a nice idea in theory but which didn't really work, and there was only a little sugar sprinkled on top. There was no cinnamon. There was no hot, dripping, greasy goodness. Our disappointment was tantamount.
Little Sister got a chocolate churro with an Oreo cream dipping sauce. She gave me half of hers, and I gave her half of mine. Hers was better than mine, but it was still a blight on the hallowed name of churro.
We then forsook Battery Park and its terrible churros in favor of Wall Street. Stock market Wall Street. Let's-occupy-it Wall Street. National Treasure "heere on the wall" Wall Street. In fact, we stopped at Trinity Church. Whether there actually are catacombs with secret passages beneath this church, I do not know, but we examined the burial grounds behind the church. I walked around three-fourths of the cemetery, appreciating the history and thinking quiet thoughts. The next day, I learned that Alexander Hamilton is buried in the fourth of the cemetery that I didn't explore. I will forever regret not seeing his grave, because Alexander Hamilton is a boss.
We decided to eat lunch on Wall Street, which is fancier than it sounds. Our joint of choice bore the name "The Variety Café," which it lived up to exceedingly well. There was a buffet of all kinds of hot food, including several different kinds of Asian cuisine (score!). There was also soup, sandwiches, salad, drinks, desserts, and so on and so forth. The other diners included what looked like business people, with their slacks and ties and laptops, and the staff included a friendly soup guy who asked us where we were from and told us about his experience skiing in Alta.
After lunch, the 9/11 Memorial. There, I found the misery that Ellis Island lacked.
9/11 is an American tragedy that I actually lived through. I remember the panic and the general confusion of a nation aghast. I remember seeing things on TV that I didn't understand but which people told me that I would remember for the rest of my life and that I should share with my children and grandchildren.
Now I was up close and personal.
Older Sister accompanied Glory in her meandering while Little Sister and I went on ahead. The museum descends into the foundations of the original World Trade Center, so down we climbed, meeting horror after horror after horror. Twisted wreckage; children's clothes collected from the downed planes; papers that floated on the wind from the gaping holes in the towers.
I got sniffly as a matter of course; Little Sister was still in the grip of her cold so she was extra sniffly. In the middle of the museum was a labyrinth-like structure that had a display that told the entire story of 9/11. It was very cool, but difficult to navigate.
Towards the end, Little Sister said, "Hic." Which looks harmless enough in print but which was actually a big ginormous hiccup. Little Sister had suddenly contracted a case of the loudest hiccups the world has ever heard. Ridiculousness ensued as we tried to find an exit so that we could rush out and leave people to their quiet personal mourning.
Our plans that night were to eat dinner at the Shake Shack and take in the view from the Top of the Rock. With much reluctance, Older Sister invited Dr. Godfather's best friend's son aka Peeta to join us for dinner and our tourist excursion.
Peeta said he would head to the Shake Shack and that we would know him because he was wearing a suit. Sure enough, when we arrived at the line stretching out of the Shake Shack and into the streets of New York, there was a guy in a suit saving us a spot halfway through the line.
They don't call me Awkward Mormon Girl for nothing. I find interacting with other humans to be quite awkward, so I was surprised at how well all of us got along with Peeta. He chatted with us amiably as we waited in line and ate our food (my burger was too salty; my concrete was to die for).
On the way out of the restaurant, Little Sister got the hiccups again. An extremely alarmed Shake Shack worker thought she was dying and offered to save her life by performing the Heimlich on her. Little Sister said, "I just have weird hiccups," which led to the worker expounding his philosophy about mortality to us. He said that he ate too much Shake Shack food, which was bad for him, but "I'd rather die happy than skinny."
Peeta acted like this conversation was a matter of course. He even joined us for a picture with our new Shake Shack friend.
We then headed to the Top of the Rock, which for all you yahoos means the top of the Rockefeller Center. As we headed that direction, Peeta mentioned that he'd been to New York City before. In fact, he had friends living in New York City whom he was planning to hang out with later that night.
It occurred to us that Dr. Godfather wanted Peeta to look out for us more than he wanted us to look out for Peeta. Sneaky Dr. Godfather.
At the Rockefeller Center, we took the elevator to the top and gazed out over the lights of the city that never sleeps.
New York City. What a place.
On Sunday night, Dr. Godfather texted Older Sister and mentioned that his best friend's son had just moved to New York City for an accounting internship and that the kid was nervous about the whole thing. Dr. Godfather asked if we would be so kind as to meet up with his best friend's son the next evening and take him sightseeing.
Now, Dr. Godfather has worked with our mom for ages, he's an especial friend of our family, and, as a former native of New York City, he offered us extensive advice in planning our trip. We felt obliged to help him out, but that obligation didn't keep Older Sister from freaking out.
"What if Dr. Godfather's best friend's son is weird? What if he's a creep? What if he's really awkward?" We listened to her worries on Monday morning as we all prepared for the day.
After a breakfast graciously provided by our hotel, we took the subway to Battery Park. Near Battery Park, we boarded a ferry heading for the Statue of Liberty. The sky was gray--not rainy, but oppressive in its coloring. It was a little claustrophobic, like the curved dome of the IMAX screen at the Clark Planetarium. And Lady Liberty was, well, green. Smaller than expected. Difficult to see up close. But the ferry ride was lovely all the same.
The second, and final, ferry stop was at Ellis Island.
I once visited Dachau in Germany. The misery that place had seen was palpable. I could feel it everywhere. Likewise, last summer, my family visited the martyrdom site of the prophet Joseph Smith. Once again, I could feel the tragedy in the air. Whatever your personal beliefs may be, innocent men cut down in their prime is always a tragedy.
For some reason, I was expecting to feel that at Ellis Island. I'm not sure why. People did die there, and some families suffered the personal tragedy of parting forever when unhealthy members were sent back to the old country. But a lot of good happened at Ellis Island, too. As not-so-great as the United States could be in the late 1800s and early 1900s, it was infinitely better than what many people left behind. Parts of Ellis Island were definitely unfair and unpleasant, but the overall feeling I got from its halls was hope.
We did a walking tour of the entire museum. This was no small feat, considering we'd pretty much walked the length of Central Park the day before. The end of the tour found us collapsed on a wooden bench in the long upstairs room, listening to the description of the Kissing Post without actually walking over to see it.
We'd estimated that Ellis Island would take up most of our day, but in reality they only have the one building open for exploration. It was not quite lunchtime when we finished our sightseeing and caught the ferry back to Battery Park.
Earlier, we'd seen food stands in Battery Park selling churros. Now that we were done with our tour, we decided to purchase some. Eagerly anticipating the joy of hot fried dough coated in cinnamon and sugar, we forked over our money to the churro stand guy.
So what are churros like in New York City? Well, NYC is famous for all kinds of food: the best cheesecake, the best sushi, the best coal-fire pizza, Manhattan chowder, black-and-white cookies. But they aren't famous for churros, and that's because New York City churros are the worst.
Not joking. It was the worst churro I'd ever had. Maybe New York City lacks sufficient Southwest influence, but they don't seem to understand the concept of fried dough. Our churros were baked, dry, and heavy. They had cream in the middle, which was a nice idea in theory but which didn't really work, and there was only a little sugar sprinkled on top. There was no cinnamon. There was no hot, dripping, greasy goodness. Our disappointment was tantamount.
Little Sister got a chocolate churro with an Oreo cream dipping sauce. She gave me half of hers, and I gave her half of mine. Hers was better than mine, but it was still a blight on the hallowed name of churro.
We then forsook Battery Park and its terrible churros in favor of Wall Street. Stock market Wall Street. Let's-occupy-it Wall Street. National Treasure "heere on the wall" Wall Street. In fact, we stopped at Trinity Church. Whether there actually are catacombs with secret passages beneath this church, I do not know, but we examined the burial grounds behind the church. I walked around three-fourths of the cemetery, appreciating the history and thinking quiet thoughts. The next day, I learned that Alexander Hamilton is buried in the fourth of the cemetery that I didn't explore. I will forever regret not seeing his grave, because Alexander Hamilton is a boss.
We decided to eat lunch on Wall Street, which is fancier than it sounds. Our joint of choice bore the name "The Variety Café," which it lived up to exceedingly well. There was a buffet of all kinds of hot food, including several different kinds of Asian cuisine (score!). There was also soup, sandwiches, salad, drinks, desserts, and so on and so forth. The other diners included what looked like business people, with their slacks and ties and laptops, and the staff included a friendly soup guy who asked us where we were from and told us about his experience skiing in Alta.
After lunch, the 9/11 Memorial. There, I found the misery that Ellis Island lacked.
9/11 is an American tragedy that I actually lived through. I remember the panic and the general confusion of a nation aghast. I remember seeing things on TV that I didn't understand but which people told me that I would remember for the rest of my life and that I should share with my children and grandchildren.
Now I was up close and personal.
Older Sister accompanied Glory in her meandering while Little Sister and I went on ahead. The museum descends into the foundations of the original World Trade Center, so down we climbed, meeting horror after horror after horror. Twisted wreckage; children's clothes collected from the downed planes; papers that floated on the wind from the gaping holes in the towers.
I got sniffly as a matter of course; Little Sister was still in the grip of her cold so she was extra sniffly. In the middle of the museum was a labyrinth-like structure that had a display that told the entire story of 9/11. It was very cool, but difficult to navigate.
Towards the end, Little Sister said, "Hic." Which looks harmless enough in print but which was actually a big ginormous hiccup. Little Sister had suddenly contracted a case of the loudest hiccups the world has ever heard. Ridiculousness ensued as we tried to find an exit so that we could rush out and leave people to their quiet personal mourning.
Our plans that night were to eat dinner at the Shake Shack and take in the view from the Top of the Rock. With much reluctance, Older Sister invited Dr. Godfather's best friend's son aka Peeta to join us for dinner and our tourist excursion.
Peeta said he would head to the Shake Shack and that we would know him because he was wearing a suit. Sure enough, when we arrived at the line stretching out of the Shake Shack and into the streets of New York, there was a guy in a suit saving us a spot halfway through the line.
They don't call me Awkward Mormon Girl for nothing. I find interacting with other humans to be quite awkward, so I was surprised at how well all of us got along with Peeta. He chatted with us amiably as we waited in line and ate our food (my burger was too salty; my concrete was to die for).
On the way out of the restaurant, Little Sister got the hiccups again. An extremely alarmed Shake Shack worker thought she was dying and offered to save her life by performing the Heimlich on her. Little Sister said, "I just have weird hiccups," which led to the worker expounding his philosophy about mortality to us. He said that he ate too much Shake Shack food, which was bad for him, but "I'd rather die happy than skinny."
Peeta acted like this conversation was a matter of course. He even joined us for a picture with our new Shake Shack friend.
We then headed to the Top of the Rock, which for all you yahoos means the top of the Rockefeller Center. As we headed that direction, Peeta mentioned that he'd been to New York City before. In fact, he had friends living in New York City whom he was planning to hang out with later that night.
It occurred to us that Dr. Godfather wanted Peeta to look out for us more than he wanted us to look out for Peeta. Sneaky Dr. Godfather.
At the Rockefeller Center, we took the elevator to the top and gazed out over the lights of the city that never sleeps.
New York City. What a place.
Thursday, May 28, 2015
A Pizza Grows in Brooklyn
Context: this post is about the third day of my New York City trip, which was our second day in the city.
Our second day in New York City was a Friday. And on that Friday, we did three main things.
We ate dinner at Pret a Manger, which was okay. It's one of those places where you grab cold wraps, sandwiches, and salads off refrigerated shelves. I'm more of a hot food person myself, as my parents can attest. They always hated it when I heated up their house by using the oven or making thick soup for dinner on a hot summer's day. So Pret a Manger was not my thing, and it also didn't really fill me up.
After dinner, we went to A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder, which was fun. This musical won Best Musical in the 2014 Tony Awards, and let me tell you--it deserved it. It was well-written and well-presented. The premise is that a distant relation of an earl starts killing off his relatives so that he will become the next earl. I expected this show to get dark quickly, a la Jekyll and Hyde, but incredibly it stayed light and hilarious the whole time. More incredibly, the murderer remained a sympathetic character throughout the show. However, should you be interested in seeing this show, know that there were some inappropriate jokes and one terribly inappropriate song.
But. Before we ate at Pret a Manger or attended A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder, we experienced the best part of our day, otherwise known as A Slice of Brooklyn Pizza Tour.
This tour, this tour--where do I start when telling you about this tour? At the beginning, I suppose. Well, in the beginning, when we were planning the trip, one of Glory's stipulations was that she wanted to go on a bus tour and be typical tourists. In her wisdom, Older Sister decided that the best bus tour would be a pizza bus tour. And thus she reserved us places on A Slice of Brooklyn Pizza Tour.
Glory was excited for the chance to be bus tourists on a tour bus. While we were looking around Times Square the day before, she insisted that we all buy I <3 NY shirts to wear the next day on the bus tour so that everyone knew we were tourists. She also produced a pair of pink pajama pants covered with miniature I <3 NY designs to wear with her shirt to be even more touristy.
You may be confused as to why this excited Glory so. Well, in her senior year of high school, all of Glory's girl friends asked someone to the school Halloween dance. When Glory couldn't find anyone, she decided to go to the dance stag, dressed as a blade of grass.
Either this story will help you understand Glory more, or it will just confuse you. But if you're confused, you're not alone.
On Friday morning, we all put on our I <3 NY shirts to placate Glory. Glory added her pajama pants. Older Sister and I added cardigans over our shirts, which we pulled shut while on the subway. Being dressed as tourists on the bus tour was all very well, but it seemed best not to do it on the subway.
By this point, we were beginning to understand the ease of the subway. Yes, our passes continued to be plagued with issues, but the actual subway was quite simple to use. If we were on 42nd street and wanted to go to any street with a higher number, we got on the subway heading uptown. If we wanted to go to a street with a lower number, we got on the subway heading downtown. Easy, no?
In this case, we went downtown to 14th Street and Union Square. Union Square was lovely--there was a little farmer's market, a park with a statue that was probably Mahatma Gandhi but which looked like an airbender, and some fun shops nearby.
We didn't spend a lot of time there, though, because we had to meet up with our tour guide. And as lovely as Union Square was, once we met our tour guide everything became 10,000,000 times better.
"Hey, how you doin'?" she asked us once we were all on the bus.
"Good," everyone on the bus chorused back.
She told us that in Brooklyn, if someone says, "How you doin'?" you say, "How you doin'?" back. Then she told us to "fuhgettaboud" the rest of the city, because she was going to show us Brooklyn and its pizza.
Her name was Paula. She said that she was half Jewish, half Italian Roman Catholic, and that she grew up in the same apartment building as both sets of her grandparents. She had an amazing Brooklyn accent, made casual references to her cousin Tony, and threw Yiddish phrases around like it was no big deal. I don't know if she exaggerated her Brooklyn-ness for the sake of the tour or if she acted like this naturally, but we loved it. I would have gladly donned a t-shirt that instead said I <3 Paula. Or maybe even I <3 Brooklyn, because her obvious enthusiasm and love for her borough were rubbing off on me.
Speaking of the I <3 NY shirts, everyone on our tour kept saying that our matching outfits were cute. So, apparently, did Paula, who kept calling us the "cute Utah girls," and saying we all had amazing hair. She told Glory that she'd been to one city in Utah before, but that she got a much more positive impression of the state from us than she had from the people she met while she was there.
Paula took us to a perfect photo op spot looking over the harbor. She took us to Coney Island and to places in Brooklyn where movies were filmed. She showed us the houses of wealthy people in the upscale neighborhoods, telling us that she'd knocked on the owners' doors to find out more about their houses for her tour. She shared local gossip and stories about the mafia with us. And, then, of course, she took us for pizza.
Included in the price of the tour were four slices of pizza and two drinks each. First, we went to Grimaldi's for famous coal-fire margherita pizza.
All that was on this thin-crusted pizza was tomato sauce, basil, and some "fresh mozzarell," as Paula called it. "That's it," she said. She said that pizza doesn't need anything else on it, and she was right. All my two slices needed was a bottle of root beer to wash them down.
Then we went to L&B Spumoni Gardens, where we had a thicker-crust, Sicilian-style, square pizza. This pizza had the mozzarella cheese underneath the sauce and a second kind of cheese on top. If possible, this pizza was even better than Grimaldi's. There were little dishes of Parmesan on the tables to sprinkle over your pizza and an ice cream parlor that sold spumni. I ate gelato every day when I was in Europe a few years ago. I've been crazy about it ever since, but I'd never tried spumoni, a different type of Italian ice cream. So I bought a cup of rainbow (chocolate, vanilla, and pistachio) spumoni to try. I was glad I did.
After our amazing tour, we were all full, which is why we ended up at Pret a Manger for a light (too light, for me) dinner instead of eating somewhere else. And then we went to A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder etcetera, etcetera; you know the rest.
But for the rest of the trip, we kept talking about that tour and, unabashedly, would try to imitate Paula's amazing accent. Little Sister and I did it a few nights later with the condiments at the dinner table:
LITTLE SISTER: Do you want salt in ya watah?
AWKWARD MORMON: No, I don't want salt in my watah!
LITTLE SISTER: Do you want peppah in ya watah?
AWKWARD MORMON: No, I don't want peppah in my watah!
LITTLE SISTER: Do you want red peppah in ya watah?
AWKWARD MORMON: No, I don't want red peppah in my watah!
I guess it doesn't take t-shirts to make us look like tourists.
Our second day in New York City was a Friday. And on that Friday, we did three main things.
We ate dinner at Pret a Manger, which was okay. It's one of those places where you grab cold wraps, sandwiches, and salads off refrigerated shelves. I'm more of a hot food person myself, as my parents can attest. They always hated it when I heated up their house by using the oven or making thick soup for dinner on a hot summer's day. So Pret a Manger was not my thing, and it also didn't really fill me up.
After dinner, we went to A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder, which was fun. This musical won Best Musical in the 2014 Tony Awards, and let me tell you--it deserved it. It was well-written and well-presented. The premise is that a distant relation of an earl starts killing off his relatives so that he will become the next earl. I expected this show to get dark quickly, a la Jekyll and Hyde, but incredibly it stayed light and hilarious the whole time. More incredibly, the murderer remained a sympathetic character throughout the show. However, should you be interested in seeing this show, know that there were some inappropriate jokes and one terribly inappropriate song.
But. Before we ate at Pret a Manger or attended A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder, we experienced the best part of our day, otherwise known as A Slice of Brooklyn Pizza Tour.
This tour, this tour--where do I start when telling you about this tour? At the beginning, I suppose. Well, in the beginning, when we were planning the trip, one of Glory's stipulations was that she wanted to go on a bus tour and be typical tourists. In her wisdom, Older Sister decided that the best bus tour would be a pizza bus tour. And thus she reserved us places on A Slice of Brooklyn Pizza Tour.
Glory was excited for the chance to be bus tourists on a tour bus. While we were looking around Times Square the day before, she insisted that we all buy I <3 NY shirts to wear the next day on the bus tour so that everyone knew we were tourists. She also produced a pair of pink pajama pants covered with miniature I <3 NY designs to wear with her shirt to be even more touristy.
You may be confused as to why this excited Glory so. Well, in her senior year of high school, all of Glory's girl friends asked someone to the school Halloween dance. When Glory couldn't find anyone, she decided to go to the dance stag, dressed as a blade of grass.
Either this story will help you understand Glory more, or it will just confuse you. But if you're confused, you're not alone.
On Friday morning, we all put on our I <3 NY shirts to placate Glory. Glory added her pajama pants. Older Sister and I added cardigans over our shirts, which we pulled shut while on the subway. Being dressed as tourists on the bus tour was all very well, but it seemed best not to do it on the subway.
By this point, we were beginning to understand the ease of the subway. Yes, our passes continued to be plagued with issues, but the actual subway was quite simple to use. If we were on 42nd street and wanted to go to any street with a higher number, we got on the subway heading uptown. If we wanted to go to a street with a lower number, we got on the subway heading downtown. Easy, no?
In this case, we went downtown to 14th Street and Union Square. Union Square was lovely--there was a little farmer's market, a park with a statue that was probably Mahatma Gandhi but which looked like an airbender, and some fun shops nearby.
We didn't spend a lot of time there, though, because we had to meet up with our tour guide. And as lovely as Union Square was, once we met our tour guide everything became 10,000,000 times better.
"Hey, how you doin'?" she asked us once we were all on the bus.
"Good," everyone on the bus chorused back.
She told us that in Brooklyn, if someone says, "How you doin'?" you say, "How you doin'?" back. Then she told us to "fuhgettaboud" the rest of the city, because she was going to show us Brooklyn and its pizza.
Her name was Paula. She said that she was half Jewish, half Italian Roman Catholic, and that she grew up in the same apartment building as both sets of her grandparents. She had an amazing Brooklyn accent, made casual references to her cousin Tony, and threw Yiddish phrases around like it was no big deal. I don't know if she exaggerated her Brooklyn-ness for the sake of the tour or if she acted like this naturally, but we loved it. I would have gladly donned a t-shirt that instead said I <3 Paula. Or maybe even I <3 Brooklyn, because her obvious enthusiasm and love for her borough were rubbing off on me.
Speaking of the I <3 NY shirts, everyone on our tour kept saying that our matching outfits were cute. So, apparently, did Paula, who kept calling us the "cute Utah girls," and saying we all had amazing hair. She told Glory that she'd been to one city in Utah before, but that she got a much more positive impression of the state from us than she had from the people she met while she was there.
Paula took us to a perfect photo op spot looking over the harbor. She took us to Coney Island and to places in Brooklyn where movies were filmed. She showed us the houses of wealthy people in the upscale neighborhoods, telling us that she'd knocked on the owners' doors to find out more about their houses for her tour. She shared local gossip and stories about the mafia with us. And, then, of course, she took us for pizza.
Included in the price of the tour were four slices of pizza and two drinks each. First, we went to Grimaldi's for famous coal-fire margherita pizza.
All that was on this thin-crusted pizza was tomato sauce, basil, and some "fresh mozzarell," as Paula called it. "That's it," she said. She said that pizza doesn't need anything else on it, and she was right. All my two slices needed was a bottle of root beer to wash them down.
Then we went to L&B Spumoni Gardens, where we had a thicker-crust, Sicilian-style, square pizza. This pizza had the mozzarella cheese underneath the sauce and a second kind of cheese on top. If possible, this pizza was even better than Grimaldi's. There were little dishes of Parmesan on the tables to sprinkle over your pizza and an ice cream parlor that sold spumni. I ate gelato every day when I was in Europe a few years ago. I've been crazy about it ever since, but I'd never tried spumoni, a different type of Italian ice cream. So I bought a cup of rainbow (chocolate, vanilla, and pistachio) spumoni to try. I was glad I did.
After our amazing tour, we were all full, which is why we ended up at Pret a Manger for a light (too light, for me) dinner instead of eating somewhere else. And then we went to A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder etcetera, etcetera; you know the rest.
But for the rest of the trip, we kept talking about that tour and, unabashedly, would try to imitate Paula's amazing accent. Little Sister and I did it a few nights later with the condiments at the dinner table:
LITTLE SISTER: Do you want salt in ya watah?
AWKWARD MORMON: No, I don't want salt in my watah!
LITTLE SISTER: Do you want peppah in ya watah?
AWKWARD MORMON: No, I don't want peppah in my watah!
LITTLE SISTER: Do you want red peppah in ya watah?
AWKWARD MORMON: No, I don't want red peppah in my watah!
I guess it doesn't take t-shirts to make us look like tourists.
Tuesday, March 31, 2015
Awkward Mormon Girl in the Big Apple
Last spring, Older Sister said to Little Sister and me, "This time next year, we're going to New York."
It is a lifelong dream of Older Sister's to go to New York City. In her lifetime, she's been to the East Coast and the West Coast. She's visited Mexico. She lived in South America during her mission. Yet she has never, ever made it to New York City.
Little Sister and I were all, "Yeah, cool, Older Sister." This was said with about 53% skepticism. We thought it would be fun to go, but we sort of doubted it would actually happen.
Then, suddenly, we found ourselves buying plane tickets, and we realized that we are legitimately going to NYC in the spring of 2015.
This had been surreal to me, and I believe surreal to Little Sister, but not so for Older Sister in the fact that she seems to have envisioned her trip to New York for so long that she knows exactly what it will be like.
Broadway shows, restaurants, historical sites, department stores, sightseeing, three museums and three city tours, the temple, Central Park--Older Sister is planning it all to the minute.
Little Sister and I have been helping. Sort of.
OLDER SISTER: (after spending ten minutes trying to decide what sights to see while waiting for our Brooklyn pizza tour) I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: Yeah, the Brooklyn Bridge.
OLDER SISTER: Do you guys care if we don't go to the top of the Statue of Liberty?
AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: If we're already going to the top of the Empire State Building and the top of the Rock, then I see no reason to go to the top of the Statue of Liberty, too. Unless there is a singing French pigeon up there. In which case I am all for that.
OLDER SISTER: I just had an idea. What if-
LITTLE SISTER: We reenacted all of An American Tail? Yes.
Then Little Sister and I high-fived.
It is a lifelong dream of Older Sister's to go to New York City. In her lifetime, she's been to the East Coast and the West Coast. She's visited Mexico. She lived in South America during her mission. Yet she has never, ever made it to New York City.
Little Sister and I were all, "Yeah, cool, Older Sister." This was said with about 53% skepticism. We thought it would be fun to go, but we sort of doubted it would actually happen.
Then, suddenly, we found ourselves buying plane tickets, and we realized that we are legitimately going to NYC in the spring of 2015.
This had been surreal to me, and I believe surreal to Little Sister, but not so for Older Sister in the fact that she seems to have envisioned her trip to New York for so long that she knows exactly what it will be like.
Broadway shows, restaurants, historical sites, department stores, sightseeing, three museums and three city tours, the temple, Central Park--Older Sister is planning it all to the minute.
Little Sister and I have been helping. Sort of.
OLDER SISTER: (after spending ten minutes trying to decide what sights to see while waiting for our Brooklyn pizza tour) I guess we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.
AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: Yeah, the Brooklyn Bridge.
OLDER SISTER: Do you guys care if we don't go to the top of the Statue of Liberty?
AWKWARD MORMON GIRL: If we're already going to the top of the Empire State Building and the top of the Rock, then I see no reason to go to the top of the Statue of Liberty, too. Unless there is a singing French pigeon up there. In which case I am all for that.
OLDER SISTER: I just had an idea. What if-
LITTLE SISTER: We reenacted all of An American Tail? Yes.
Then Little Sister and I high-fived.
Thursday, January 29, 2015
Splash Mountain According to Me
There's something about Disneyland.
I know people whose attitude goes thusly: "Disneyland?! What's so great about Disneyland? All amusement parks are the same."
Ah, but no. Every other amusement park I've ever been to leaves me feeling tired, drained, and in serious need of a shower. When I leave Disneyland, I feel uplifted, peaceful, and fulfilled.
Why is that? I'm not sure. There's probably a nostalgia factor from my Disney-studded childhood, of course, but it goes far beyond that. Part of it is probably the exquisite design of the place. Everything, from the bathroom signs to the music playing throughout the park to the packaging of the food, is designed with the utmost care and a particular impression in mind.
Little Brother especially loves Disneyland.
Little Brother has been not-so-secretly annoyed with me for not writing any posts of which he is the star. I have done this not because I have nothing to say about Little Brother but because there's too much to say. He's Prince Zuko in Avatar: The Last Airbender; Sirius Black in Harry Potter; Loki in The Avengers. If there were an emo penguin in Scamper the Penguin, Little Brother would be that penguin. He's tall, dark, handsome, sensitive, brooding, and conflicted. Additionally, he is a fairly fanatical person; when he loves something, he really loves it. When he hates it, he very much hates it.
It so happens that Little Brother really loves Disneyland. And since he was small, he has specifically targeted an intense portion of that love on Splash Mountain.
Who doesn't love Splash Mountain? People who are scared of falling from heights, and getting wet, and seeing singing animatronic animals. But everybody else loves it. Which is odd when you consider that it was born of Disney's most controversial movie, but becomes less odd when you realize the ride has very little to do with the actual movie and more to do with its Academy Award-winning original songs.
I first went on Splash Mountain at age eight, and I was charmed. Little Brother first went on Splash Mountain in our mother's womb, and he's obsessed. He has literally watched YouTube videos that various people have taken of Splash Mountain while riding Splash Mountain at every Disney park with a version of Splash Mountain. I daresay he knows the ride better than he knows the depths of his own soul.
The last time I went on Splash Mountain was summer of 2013. I enjoyed it very much. Yet there was something...odd about it. It took me a few rides to realize that some of the animatronic animals weren't working. Some singing frogs...a fox or two...dancing chickens on the steamboat during the "Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah" section.
"I don't understand," I said when we got off the ride. "This is Disneyland, where everything is kept in tip-top condition. What about maintenance? Part replacement? Disney magic?"
"I don't know," scowled the upset Little Brother. He assumed his typical, peculiar mix of outrage and excitement at having something to be outraged about.
And Little Sister yelled, "Please don't throw me in the briar patch!" in a very accurate but somewhat offensive imitation of Brer Rabbit.
And then Little Brother's excitement won out and he began to assail us all with random Disney facts.
And I was all, "What is this family?"
I know people whose attitude goes thusly: "Disneyland?! What's so great about Disneyland? All amusement parks are the same."
Ah, but no. Every other amusement park I've ever been to leaves me feeling tired, drained, and in serious need of a shower. When I leave Disneyland, I feel uplifted, peaceful, and fulfilled.
Why is that? I'm not sure. There's probably a nostalgia factor from my Disney-studded childhood, of course, but it goes far beyond that. Part of it is probably the exquisite design of the place. Everything, from the bathroom signs to the music playing throughout the park to the packaging of the food, is designed with the utmost care and a particular impression in mind.
Little Brother especially loves Disneyland.
Little Brother has been not-so-secretly annoyed with me for not writing any posts of which he is the star. I have done this not because I have nothing to say about Little Brother but because there's too much to say. He's Prince Zuko in Avatar: The Last Airbender; Sirius Black in Harry Potter; Loki in The Avengers. If there were an emo penguin in Scamper the Penguin, Little Brother would be that penguin. He's tall, dark, handsome, sensitive, brooding, and conflicted. Additionally, he is a fairly fanatical person; when he loves something, he really loves it. When he hates it, he very much hates it.
It so happens that Little Brother really loves Disneyland. And since he was small, he has specifically targeted an intense portion of that love on Splash Mountain.
Who doesn't love Splash Mountain? People who are scared of falling from heights, and getting wet, and seeing singing animatronic animals. But everybody else loves it. Which is odd when you consider that it was born of Disney's most controversial movie, but becomes less odd when you realize the ride has very little to do with the actual movie and more to do with its Academy Award-winning original songs.
I first went on Splash Mountain at age eight, and I was charmed. Little Brother first went on Splash Mountain in our mother's womb, and he's obsessed. He has literally watched YouTube videos that various people have taken of Splash Mountain while riding Splash Mountain at every Disney park with a version of Splash Mountain. I daresay he knows the ride better than he knows the depths of his own soul.
The last time I went on Splash Mountain was summer of 2013. I enjoyed it very much. Yet there was something...odd about it. It took me a few rides to realize that some of the animatronic animals weren't working. Some singing frogs...a fox or two...dancing chickens on the steamboat during the "Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah" section.
"I don't understand," I said when we got off the ride. "This is Disneyland, where everything is kept in tip-top condition. What about maintenance? Part replacement? Disney magic?"
"I don't know," scowled the upset Little Brother. He assumed his typical, peculiar mix of outrage and excitement at having something to be outraged about.
And Little Sister yelled, "Please don't throw me in the briar patch!" in a very accurate but somewhat offensive imitation of Brer Rabbit.
And then Little Brother's excitement won out and he began to assail us all with random Disney facts.
And I was all, "What is this family?"
Saturday, December 20, 2014
Hobbits and Hanukkah
You're surely aware that the new Hobbit movie came out this past week.
You likely aren't aware that the start of Hanukkah was that same day.
Little Sister and I went to see the movie with Favorite Cousin. I wore the cloak of Lothlorien from my Frodo Baggins Halloween costume. Favorite Cousin bought a special promotional cup for his very large soda. I liked the cup but I never drink that much soda. Especially not in movies. In fact, it just so happens that the last time I ever drank a large soda was when my dad bought me one at The Return of the King. Within an hour, I had to go to the bathroom incredibly badly but I didn't want to leave lest I miss something. I spent the rest of the movie with a burgeoning bladder. At the end of the movie, there's a scene where Frodo says goodbye to this friends at the Grey Havens. It is very emotional.
And very long.
So, no. I did not wish to drink any soda. But I did want the cup. So I purchased it along with a small portion of the chocolate-hazelnut gelato I got hooked on when I was in Italy.
Hmm I thought, eating gelato whilst holding the very expensive cup I did not plan to drink from and wearing my single hobbit costume piece in a crowded movie theatre full of people dressed like people going to a crowded movie theatre normally would be. I can't tell if this is the epitome of adulthood or a low point.
After the movie, Little Sister and I could not remember where we'd parked my car.
This wasn't momentarily forgetfulness, either. We seriously walked around the parking lot for twenty minutes, unable to remember where my car might be.
There was much confusion.
"This must be what it was like in Mirkwood," Little Sister said, referring to the previous hobbit movie. "We'll have to climb a tree to see above the cars."
"What if we can't find my car and we miss Hanukkah?" I asked.
"Maybe," Little Sister said, "we'll have a Hanukkah miracle and your phone battery will last for eight days."
You likely aren't aware that the start of Hanukkah was that same day.
Little Sister and I went to see the movie with Favorite Cousin. I wore the cloak of Lothlorien from my Frodo Baggins Halloween costume. Favorite Cousin bought a special promotional cup for his very large soda. I liked the cup but I never drink that much soda. Especially not in movies. In fact, it just so happens that the last time I ever drank a large soda was when my dad bought me one at The Return of the King. Within an hour, I had to go to the bathroom incredibly badly but I didn't want to leave lest I miss something. I spent the rest of the movie with a burgeoning bladder. At the end of the movie, there's a scene where Frodo says goodbye to this friends at the Grey Havens. It is very emotional.
And very long.
So, no. I did not wish to drink any soda. But I did want the cup. So I purchased it along with a small portion of the chocolate-hazelnut gelato I got hooked on when I was in Italy.
Hmm I thought, eating gelato whilst holding the very expensive cup I did not plan to drink from and wearing my single hobbit costume piece in a crowded movie theatre full of people dressed like people going to a crowded movie theatre normally would be. I can't tell if this is the epitome of adulthood or a low point.
After the movie, Little Sister and I could not remember where we'd parked my car.
This wasn't momentarily forgetfulness, either. We seriously walked around the parking lot for twenty minutes, unable to remember where my car might be.
There was much confusion.
"This must be what it was like in Mirkwood," Little Sister said, referring to the previous hobbit movie. "We'll have to climb a tree to see above the cars."
"What if we can't find my car and we miss Hanukkah?" I asked.
"Maybe," Little Sister said, "we'll have a Hanukkah miracle and your phone battery will last for eight days."
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
Family Joke Night
Short anecdote of the day: prophets have counseled us to set aside an evening a week to spend with our families. The prescribed evening is Monday. My family, however, has always had Family Home Evening (as it's called) on Sundays.
When I was small, Sunday night FHE included family joke night during dinner.
My dad told most of the jokes. Being children and therefore easily entertained, we made him tell us the exact same jokes every. Single. Sunday. And then we would tell them to him every. Single. Sunday.
And then, slowly at first and then suddenly, family joke night was dead.
Why?
I'll tell you why.
Little Sister, that's why.
Little Sister didn't understand jokes at all, but she insisted on telling them anyways.
Dad would tell this classic: "Knock knock."
"Who's there, Dad?" Older Sister and I would shout.
"Olive."
"Olive who?" We were now at a fever pitch of excitement. We'd already heard the joke 1,342,569,986 times, but somehow we were still on the edge of our seats.
"Olive you!"
Hysterical.
"Knock knock," Little Sister would then say.
"Who's there?" Dad obliged.
"Pizza."
"Pizza who?"
"Olive you!"
At first it was kind of cute when she did that. Then it was mildly annoying. Then it was terribly, horribly, mind-numbingly boring. We wanted to hear corny jokes, not Little Sister ruining corny jokes.
"Knock knock," she'd say.
"Who's there?" we'd groan.
"Banana."
"Banana who?" (With much rolling of the eyes.)
"Knock knock."
"Who's there?"
"Banana."
"Banana who?"
"Knock knock."
"Who's there?"
"Apple!" Little Sister said triumphantly.
"Apple who?" we asked, already cringing. We knew what was coming.
"Orange you glad I didn't say banana?!"
When I was small, Sunday night FHE included family joke night during dinner.
My dad told most of the jokes. Being children and therefore easily entertained, we made him tell us the exact same jokes every. Single. Sunday. And then we would tell them to him every. Single. Sunday.
And then, slowly at first and then suddenly, family joke night was dead.
Why?
I'll tell you why.
Little Sister, that's why.
Little Sister didn't understand jokes at all, but she insisted on telling them anyways.
Dad would tell this classic: "Knock knock."
"Who's there, Dad?" Older Sister and I would shout.
"Olive."
"Olive who?" We were now at a fever pitch of excitement. We'd already heard the joke 1,342,569,986 times, but somehow we were still on the edge of our seats.
"Olive you!"
Hysterical.
"Knock knock," Little Sister would then say.
"Who's there?" Dad obliged.
"Pizza."
"Pizza who?"
"Olive you!"
At first it was kind of cute when she did that. Then it was mildly annoying. Then it was terribly, horribly, mind-numbingly boring. We wanted to hear corny jokes, not Little Sister ruining corny jokes.
"Knock knock," she'd say.
"Who's there?" we'd groan.
"Banana."
"Banana who?" (With much rolling of the eyes.)
"Knock knock."
"Who's there?"
"Banana."
"Banana who?"
"Knock knock."
"Who's there?"
"Apple!" Little Sister said triumphantly.
"Apple who?" we asked, already cringing. We knew what was coming.
"Orange you glad I didn't say banana?!"
Saturday, September 6, 2014
Ask Little Sister
Dear Little Sister,
What is the number-one thing you should buy when moving out of the house?
Toilet paper
2. Cheetos
3. A house to move into because you just moved out of your other one and are probably homeless. If not a house, then a mediocre car or a very nice dog igloo.
How can I get my hair to look as fancy as yours?
and
If a train going 45 miles an hour leaves New York City and a bus going 57 miles leaves Ontario and they are both going north in perpendicular directions, at what point will it start raining gummy bears?
Thanks ever so much.
Answer to question 3: Neither, because tatertots and turban don't rhyme.
Just kidding. They can't be going north AND perpendicular. Just testing you. Obviously.
YOU FAILED.
I actually took a second to think about how things could be going north and perpendicular at the same time and it really hurt my brain
Until I realized this is obviously taking in a place where the North Pole is constantly moving.
So they are just traveling perpendicular to each other, and they both are headed north at some point in their journey.
You never answered the hair question.
I will now.
Your hair can look as fancy as mine with the following things:
And of course the ultimate key and all time most powerful well kept secret hair tool:
Toilet paper
2. Cheetos
3. A house to move into because you just moved out of your other one and are probably homeless. If not a house, then a mediocre car or a very nice dog igloo.
and
Thanks ever so much.
Answer to question 3: Neither, because tatertots and turban don't rhyme.
Just kidding. They can't be going north AND perpendicular. Just testing you. Obviously.
YOU FAILED.
I actually took a second to think about how things could be going north and perpendicular at the same time and it really hurt my brain
Until I realized this is obviously taking in a place where the North Pole is constantly moving.
So they are just traveling perpendicular to each other, and they both are headed north at some point in their journey.
You never answered the hair question.
I will now.
Your hair can look as fancy as mine with the following things:
 |
| The boldness of this |
 |
| The bounciness of this |
 |
| The urgency of this |
 |
| The ferocity of this |
 |
| The creativeness of this |
 |
| Lots and lots of this |
And of course the ultimate key and all time most powerful well kept secret hair tool:
 |
| This. |
Wow.
That's, like, the only thing better than hairspray.
Use all those and your hair can look like this:
In no time.
How beautimus.
You're welcome.
Saturday, July 26, 2014
Road Trippin'
A Shakespeare play is considered either a tragedy or a comedy based on the ending. It's a comedy if it ends with a marriage and a tragedy if it ends with death.
Going by that classification, road trips are tragedies, for they almost never end in marriage and almost always involve the participants being bored to death (if not killed by their traveling companions and stuffed in a trunk).
For serious, though. Road trip = 10% adventure and 90% brain-melting, body-numbing boredom. I should know--I just came home from one.
My family set off on the trip lively humans capable of intelligent conversation and returned weakened and stupid by the many, many hours in the Mormon Assault Vehicle. For it took many, many hours to get where we were going. For we were going to Nauvoo, Illinois, not-so-recently the home of Mormon pioneer ancestors on my mom's side.
A brief commentary on each of the states we passed through:
Utah. People working together. What a great place to be. Blessed from heaven above, it's the land that we love. This is the place.
Wyoming. Characterized by semi-interesting rock formations and cheaper gas.
Nebraska. Flatter than a pizza, a sheet of rice paper, or Flat Stanley. There were no mountains, which was horrifying. From Nebraska on, I had no sense of direction.
Also, I got the feeling that nothing exciting ever happens in Nebraska. Please feel free to provide evidence to the contrary.
Iowa. You really ought to give it a try.
We saw a million Iowan businesses with 'River City' on them. It made me like The Music Man that much more.
Illinois. About two years ago, Little Sister did not know that the 's' in 'Illinois' is silent. This brought great joy into my life.
Missouri. I spent the entirety of my time in Missouri calling it 'Missoura,' as I have been led to believe that is the proper pronunciation. No one corrected me, so either I'm right or I was bringing great joy into their lives (see above commentary on Illinois).
Kansas. When we stopped for gas in Kansas, Little Sister suddenly said, "I want there to be tornado while we're here. Not a big one. Just a small one that will follow alongside our van but not destroy anything in its path."
Colorado. It was windy whilst we were in Colorado. I had a sudden desire to spit on the concrete of a parking lot during one of our stops.
Now, I don't randomly spit in public. Excepting those times when the Chess Master would spit in the grass after track. And I would too because he did. We'd spit, and then we'd jaywalk.
I'm not proud of it, okay?
Anyways, I had that sudden desire to spit, but I had a just as sudden image of the spit being caught by the wind and striking the face of the guy gassing up his car a few feet away.
Other than that, I slept through most of Colorado. Also, listened to my mother traumatize my brothers by telling stories of giving birth.
I was a little traumatized, as well.
So yeah. That's an overview of the wheres and wherewithal of the trip.
I was only going to write one or two blog posts about this trip. But it ended up being so interesting, Imma write 3-plus instead.
Road trippin' posts, ho!
Going by that classification, road trips are tragedies, for they almost never end in marriage and almost always involve the participants being bored to death (if not killed by their traveling companions and stuffed in a trunk).
For serious, though. Road trip = 10% adventure and 90% brain-melting, body-numbing boredom. I should know--I just came home from one.
My family set off on the trip lively humans capable of intelligent conversation and returned weakened and stupid by the many, many hours in the Mormon Assault Vehicle. For it took many, many hours to get where we were going. For we were going to Nauvoo, Illinois, not-so-recently the home of Mormon pioneer ancestors on my mom's side.
A brief commentary on each of the states we passed through:
Utah. People working together. What a great place to be. Blessed from heaven above, it's the land that we love. This is the place.
Wyoming. Characterized by semi-interesting rock formations and cheaper gas.
Nebraska. Flatter than a pizza, a sheet of rice paper, or Flat Stanley. There were no mountains, which was horrifying. From Nebraska on, I had no sense of direction.
Also, I got the feeling that nothing exciting ever happens in Nebraska. Please feel free to provide evidence to the contrary.
Iowa. You really ought to give it a try.
We saw a million Iowan businesses with 'River City' on them. It made me like The Music Man that much more.
Illinois. About two years ago, Little Sister did not know that the 's' in 'Illinois' is silent. This brought great joy into my life.
Missouri. I spent the entirety of my time in Missouri calling it 'Missoura,' as I have been led to believe that is the proper pronunciation. No one corrected me, so either I'm right or I was bringing great joy into their lives (see above commentary on Illinois).
Kansas. When we stopped for gas in Kansas, Little Sister suddenly said, "I want there to be tornado while we're here. Not a big one. Just a small one that will follow alongside our van but not destroy anything in its path."
Colorado. It was windy whilst we were in Colorado. I had a sudden desire to spit on the concrete of a parking lot during one of our stops.
Now, I don't randomly spit in public. Excepting those times when the Chess Master would spit in the grass after track. And I would too because he did. We'd spit, and then we'd jaywalk.
I'm not proud of it, okay?
Anyways, I had that sudden desire to spit, but I had a just as sudden image of the spit being caught by the wind and striking the face of the guy gassing up his car a few feet away.
Other than that, I slept through most of Colorado. Also, listened to my mother traumatize my brothers by telling stories of giving birth.
I was a little traumatized, as well.
So yeah. That's an overview of the wheres and wherewithal of the trip.
I was only going to write one or two blog posts about this trip. But it ended up being so interesting, Imma write 3-plus instead.
Road trippin' posts, ho!
Friday, March 21, 2014
Everybody Does It
Context: We are going to see Muppets Most Wanted.
DAD: Who got me these Milky Ways?
LITTLE BROTHER: They're Baby Brother's.
DAD: You're going to sneak this candy into the theatre?
LITTLE SISTER: Once my friends and I snuck a watermelon into a movie theatre.
EVERYONE ELSE: ...
LITTLE SISTER: My friend cut it in half, wrapped it in Seran wrap, and put it under her shirt. Then when we got in the theatre, we all took out spoons and ate it.
DAD: That's enough, Little Sister. I don't want to hear any more about your lawless behavior.
OLDER SISTER: There aren't any laws about sneaking candy into theatres. And everybody does it.
LITTLE SISTER: Yeah. That's what my friends said when they snuck in a package of Oreos and a gallon of milk.
DAD: Who got me these Milky Ways?
LITTLE BROTHER: They're Baby Brother's.
DAD: You're going to sneak this candy into the theatre?
LITTLE SISTER: Once my friends and I snuck a watermelon into a movie theatre.
EVERYONE ELSE: ...
LITTLE SISTER: My friend cut it in half, wrapped it in Seran wrap, and put it under her shirt. Then when we got in the theatre, we all took out spoons and ate it.
DAD: That's enough, Little Sister. I don't want to hear any more about your lawless behavior.
OLDER SISTER: There aren't any laws about sneaking candy into theatres. And everybody does it.
LITTLE SISTER: Yeah. That's what my friends said when they snuck in a package of Oreos and a gallon of milk.
Friday, March 14, 2014
In Which I Do Not Seduce Anyone
Baby Sister has a starring role in a play. She shines and glitters on that stage like the star that she is.
(Little Sister just said, "Stop your blog post! Right now!"
And then I did, and she said, "Write down what I say!"
And she said, "Baloney cheese purple strudel."
Now she is telling us her dream where her friend married a dolphin in Florida. I'm just gonna leave that there.)
Ah, the theatre. The smell of the greasepaint, the roar of the crowd, and all that. Though honestly, I've been doing theatre for twelve years and I don't even know what greasepaint is (I assume it's some kind of makeup). And the crowd doesn't really roar. Mostly it just sits there in a judgmental silence punctuated by the occasional cough.
Also, little-known but important theatrical fact: mic tape is of the devil.
After the show, the cast mingled with the crowd in the Hometown High foyer. The Hometown High foyer was built in the fifties, but it has this identity crisis where it thinks it's actually part of Ancient Greece. There are pillars everywhere.
As I watched Baby Sister greet her admirers, I couldn't help but remember back in high school when Runner Bean came to see one of my musicals.
Oh, Runner Bean. I liked him a lot. I didn't quite know what to do with myself around him. On this particular occasion, when he greeted me after the show, he leaned against a pillar, facing me, and I ended up stepping really close, and then the following words flew out of my mouth:
"If you stand there, people will think I'm seducing you or something."
And then I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him so that it no longer looked like I had pinned him against the pillar.
I said this. I did this. And to my eternal mortification, it cannot be unsaid or undone. And every time I look at the foyer pillars at Hometown High, I will remember.
To his credit, Runner Bean laughed. In a slightly hysterical manner. Like he couldn't wait to escape me. But still, he laughed.
Bless that boy. He always made everything okay.
(P.S. In case you were wondering about the rest of Little Sister's dream, it went thusly:
"...and all of a sudden my friend came back from his vacation and he was a black man. The End.")
(Little Sister just said, "Stop your blog post! Right now!"
And then I did, and she said, "Write down what I say!"
And she said, "Baloney cheese purple strudel."
Now she is telling us her dream where her friend married a dolphin in Florida. I'm just gonna leave that there.)
Ah, the theatre. The smell of the greasepaint, the roar of the crowd, and all that. Though honestly, I've been doing theatre for twelve years and I don't even know what greasepaint is (I assume it's some kind of makeup). And the crowd doesn't really roar. Mostly it just sits there in a judgmental silence punctuated by the occasional cough.
Also, little-known but important theatrical fact: mic tape is of the devil.
After the show, the cast mingled with the crowd in the Hometown High foyer. The Hometown High foyer was built in the fifties, but it has this identity crisis where it thinks it's actually part of Ancient Greece. There are pillars everywhere.
As I watched Baby Sister greet her admirers, I couldn't help but remember back in high school when Runner Bean came to see one of my musicals.
Oh, Runner Bean. I liked him a lot. I didn't quite know what to do with myself around him. On this particular occasion, when he greeted me after the show, he leaned against a pillar, facing me, and I ended up stepping really close, and then the following words flew out of my mouth:
"If you stand there, people will think I'm seducing you or something."
And then I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him so that it no longer looked like I had pinned him against the pillar.
I said this. I did this. And to my eternal mortification, it cannot be unsaid or undone. And every time I look at the foyer pillars at Hometown High, I will remember.
To his credit, Runner Bean laughed. In a slightly hysterical manner. Like he couldn't wait to escape me. But still, he laughed.
Bless that boy. He always made everything okay.
(P.S. In case you were wondering about the rest of Little Sister's dream, it went thusly:
"...and all of a sudden my friend came back from his vacation and he was a black man. The End.")
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