As inspired by Rebecca’s insights on various walks…
I have spent many an hour in dance class. As most young girls, I wanted to be a dancer more than anything. It was my DREAM. A lot of young girls have this dream whether they are talented or merely determined, coordinated or awkward.
I realized rather quickly, and I suspect that dance teachers also know this, that there is a simple way to determine whether or not someone is “awkward.” A means of separating the herd to determine true talent and coordination….
All you have to do is make up a pretense of learning a simple dance routine. You know, like you did when you were little. The routine must incorporate at least 4 counts of walking…yes, I said walking, in the forward direction preferably.
A coordinated person does not think about walking. They will extend a foot and the opposite arm.
For example: if your routine calls for 4 walks forward starting on the right foot then a pas de bouree to the left then to the right…the coordinated person will begin with their right foot and their left arm extended…
The awkward person will inevitably pause for a fraction of a second while they THINK about walking and then will ALWAYS extend a foot and the same arm i.e. right foot AND right arm.
Stand up right now and try walking this way. It’s loads of fun. Start with your right foot and make sure to extend your right arm as well, then move to the left and extend your left arm as well. Walk around the room (or cubical) a couple of times. This is how awkward people feel. Try the awkward run. You won't stop laughing, even if you're by yourself.
As I have shared this knowledge with others, it has become a game to see who can awkward walk, or run, most naturally. I have awkward walked in some pretty swanky places…just to see if I could pull it off.
But the most DELIGHTFUL thing about the awkward walk is teaching it to an awkward person; because the outcome of their awkward confusion about intentional awkward walking is always a non-awkward walk.
P.S. I am constantly bugged to see the awkward walk show up in public and or official places. For instance, the next time you watch The Apprentice, notice the little cartoon "business man" running with the briefcase by the logo. He is totally doing the awkward run. And then they freeze him into the logo to be forever immortalized in his awkwardness...
Monday, May 23, 2005
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
Happy Birthday Pom Pom Tankman Duck
So some of you might know that one month ago, a mommy duck laid her eggs right out my front door; in my flowers. Needless to say, she regretted her choice of nesting places. While it might seem picturesque to lay your eggs amidst daisies and violas, the traffic was an issue. After a few days, mommy duck gave up and left her eggs to us.
We decided that while I “look as fertile as the Tennessee valley, my womb is a rocky place where [Todd’s] seed can find no purchase…” we might as well become adoptive parents to 8 duck eggs.
We invested in a duck womb…
…and diligently read many websites on how to incubate eggs. They must have a constant 99.5 F temp (no more! no less!) and must be turned every four hours. We tracked their progress by shining a flashlight through a small hole in a piece of cardboard and holding it up to the shell.
Unfortunately, we are amateurs. I’m not sure what went wrong, but only one duck made it out of fetus-hood.
On May 10, 2005, after exactly 28 days in the “womb”, one of the eggs started to *peep*. Here is the progression:
It starts as a little hole…
Then it gets a little bigger…
The Activity Day girls crowd around to watch…
A tiny beak appears as the duck makes cracks all the way around the shell…
The top pops off and a little wet duck comes out!
Kacy and her kids were present for the popping out. Amy Lynn and her kids arrived a little later.
We let Jake name him/her (we won’t know until puberty). Jake chose Pom Pom Tankman Duck Rhodes.
Pom Pom has a cool new “brood” with a clip on light to keep warm and lots of tasty food and water.
Pom Pom’s favorite place to be is in between my cardigan and my shirt. Pom Pom just climbed on up and that’s where he/she likes to hang out. That won’t last too long seeing as how Pom Pom’s digestive system will kick in soon and ducks do not have sphincters.
We’ll see what happens with Pom Pom. We want to get chickens, but we are not quite ready yet. We have a pond and lots of other ducks in our back yard so we hope that Pom Pom will grow up to be a good normal duck and live in the pond, but will come visit every once in a while.
Todd and I are happy to be parents to a duck. I won’t dress up Pom Pom or take Pom Pom for walks on a leash. I promise we won’t let it get too out of hand.
(We are registered at Target and PetSmart…and Tiffany & Co.)
Saturday, May 07, 2005
Freeze Dried Peas
So I may have neglected to mention that in 1999 for 4 months I worked for a food storage company. I sold food storage door to door.
It’s not what you think. It was an awesome company. I would not have sold ANYTHING door to door if I had NOT thought it was totally awesome. Trust me.
The president of the company was the father of a friend of mine, so I was psyched to go to their house one day for an orientation of the foods they sold.
Just to backtrack a bit, the company sold “normal” food packaged to last in storage so that you would not have to store wheat and crap like that. Instead you could store Krusteaz waffle, muffin, and bread mix, pasta, Bear Creek Soup, sauces, Malt-o-Meal cereals, and my favorite…freeze dried meats, fruits, and vegetables. Like I said, it was an awesome company.
All the sales reps (young, mostly male 20-somethings) were invited to the president’s house for a breakfast consisting of pancakes, waffles, muffins, juice, jams, jellies, and syrups all made from the food storage products. After breakfast we (about 15 young men, the president, and moi) congregated in the HUGE pantry to sample some of the other freeze dried products.
The freeze dried stuff was good. I used to buy the peas and strawberries just to snack on. So as we’re passing around the peas I decide to open my big mouth to add my personal endorsement.
“The thing I really love about the freeze dried stuff is that it really tastes good. Like these peas…they really retain their…their pea-ness…” PEA-NESS!
It’s not what you think. It was an awesome company. I would not have sold ANYTHING door to door if I had NOT thought it was totally awesome. Trust me.
The president of the company was the father of a friend of mine, so I was psyched to go to their house one day for an orientation of the foods they sold.
Just to backtrack a bit, the company sold “normal” food packaged to last in storage so that you would not have to store wheat and crap like that. Instead you could store Krusteaz waffle, muffin, and bread mix, pasta, Bear Creek Soup, sauces, Malt-o-Meal cereals, and my favorite…freeze dried meats, fruits, and vegetables. Like I said, it was an awesome company.
All the sales reps (young, mostly male 20-somethings) were invited to the president’s house for a breakfast consisting of pancakes, waffles, muffins, juice, jams, jellies, and syrups all made from the food storage products. After breakfast we (about 15 young men, the president, and moi) congregated in the HUGE pantry to sample some of the other freeze dried products.
The freeze dried stuff was good. I used to buy the peas and strawberries just to snack on. So as we’re passing around the peas I decide to open my big mouth to add my personal endorsement.
“The thing I really love about the freeze dried stuff is that it really tastes good. Like these peas…they really retain their…their pea-ness…” PEA-NESS!
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
Chanting: The Way to Family Unity
So my little brother brought up a funny family memory last week. It made him laugh out loud. He remembered playing a game with the sibs which consisted of many or all of the seven kids lying on my parent’s bed, heads on the pillows, in preparation for a round of “King of the Bed.”
But before the game could start, we would all begin a chant while kicking our legs up and down to get ourselves psyched up for the impending rumble. We would chant “De-feet! De-feet! De-feet!” Yes, this was a method to get the adrenaline running, but it was also an amusing pun in reference to the kick line of flying feet.
I then realized how chanting often accompanied certain family activities. Here are some of the all-star chants:
“A-roma! A-roma! A-roma!”
This chant occurred one day while Amy Lynn was downstairs “playing” school. Chip, Suzie Petunia , and I were the students. Emily, a toddler, came down into the basement with a very ripe diaper. Amy Lynn pinched her nose and began running around to avoid the stinky Emily and chanting “Aroma!” This quickly caught on, and soon we were running and hiding in a corners chanting “Aroma!” while Emily toddled over trying to catchus. As soon as she got close we would run to the opposite corner of the basement and hide. Emily thought this was great fun. So this game stuck, and to this day, when one of the nieces or nephews has a stinky diaper…someone will inevitably start chanting “Aroma!” until the problem is remedied.
“Terr-i-torry! Terr-i-tory! Terr-i-torry!”
The last stage of packing a station wagon to transport 7 kids and 2 adults across the western plains involves actually packing the kids. We sat/lay on luggage cocooned in blankets and pillows to soften the bumps of enough underwear and clothes to last 7 kids for 2 weeks. We immediately set up blankets and pillows between our bodies to avoid “He’s touching me!” moments. Mom and Dad would patiently wait out this epic land grab while we chanted “Territory!” until we were all satisfied with our personal space and we could get a move on. This would probably happen at least once a day as we left motels to continue on our way westward. Occasionally, the chanting would start up during the drive when someone’s territory had been invaded.
“Di-vorce court! Di-vorce court! Di-vorce court!”
This was a really obnoxious chant. My parents NEVER argued in front of us, and rarely uttered a tense phrase. So it made it all the more irritating that we kids would chant “Divorce court!” at the slightest hint of impatience or irritation. We thought we were hilarious.
And the chanting tradition continues to this day. I have noticed that we Aunts and mothers have chanted “Moo Baa La-la-la!” to numerous babies and toddlers. I have “caught” my nephew Jacob chanting songs and made up “raps” that go on for minutes (he’s 4!).
Todd and I have even caught ourselves chanting. We spontaneously chant or recite Beck’s “Loser” lyrics (our family anthem), but the strangest one of all is “Julianna Margulies.” All it takes is seeing her for one second on an “ER” re-run or hearing her name, and it’s inevitable. It will tickle our minds until it has to come out. We chant “Julianna Margulies!” a few times and then it’s purged and we can move on. But I feel that Todd and I are closer for it. Thank you, Julianna Margulies… (Julianna Margulies… Julianna Margulies… Julianna Margulies… Julianna Margulies… Julianna Margulies… Julianna Margulies… Julianna Margulies… OK I’m done…)
But before the game could start, we would all begin a chant while kicking our legs up and down to get ourselves psyched up for the impending rumble. We would chant “De-feet! De-feet! De-feet!” Yes, this was a method to get the adrenaline running, but it was also an amusing pun in reference to the kick line of flying feet.
I then realized how chanting often accompanied certain family activities. Here are some of the all-star chants:
“A-roma! A-roma! A-roma!”
This chant occurred one day while Amy Lynn was downstairs “playing” school. Chip, Suzie Petunia , and I were the students. Emily, a toddler, came down into the basement with a very ripe diaper. Amy Lynn pinched her nose and began running around to avoid the stinky Emily and chanting “Aroma!” This quickly caught on, and soon we were running and hiding in a corners chanting “Aroma!” while Emily toddled over trying to catchus. As soon as she got close we would run to the opposite corner of the basement and hide. Emily thought this was great fun. So this game stuck, and to this day, when one of the nieces or nephews has a stinky diaper…someone will inevitably start chanting “Aroma!” until the problem is remedied.
“Terr-i-torry! Terr-i-tory! Terr-i-torry!”
The last stage of packing a station wagon to transport 7 kids and 2 adults across the western plains involves actually packing the kids. We sat/lay on luggage cocooned in blankets and pillows to soften the bumps of enough underwear and clothes to last 7 kids for 2 weeks. We immediately set up blankets and pillows between our bodies to avoid “He’s touching me!” moments. Mom and Dad would patiently wait out this epic land grab while we chanted “Territory!” until we were all satisfied with our personal space and we could get a move on. This would probably happen at least once a day as we left motels to continue on our way westward. Occasionally, the chanting would start up during the drive when someone’s territory had been invaded.
“Di-vorce court! Di-vorce court! Di-vorce court!”
This was a really obnoxious chant. My parents NEVER argued in front of us, and rarely uttered a tense phrase. So it made it all the more irritating that we kids would chant “Divorce court!” at the slightest hint of impatience or irritation. We thought we were hilarious.
And the chanting tradition continues to this day. I have noticed that we Aunts and mothers have chanted “Moo Baa La-la-la!” to numerous babies and toddlers. I have “caught” my nephew Jacob chanting songs and made up “raps” that go on for minutes (he’s 4!).
Todd and I have even caught ourselves chanting. We spontaneously chant or recite Beck’s “Loser” lyrics (our family anthem), but the strangest one of all is “Julianna Margulies.” All it takes is seeing her for one second on an “ER” re-run or hearing her name, and it’s inevitable. It will tickle our minds until it has to come out. We chant “Julianna Margulies!” a few times and then it’s purged and we can move on. But I feel that Todd and I are closer for it. Thank you, Julianna Margulies… (Julianna Margulies… Julianna Margulies… Julianna Margulies… Julianna Margulies… Julianna Margulies… Julianna Margulies… Julianna Margulies… OK I’m done…)
Saturday, April 23, 2005
A Sensitive Subject
A self-conscious disclaimer: I really hope this isn’t an insensitive post, and by telling this story, I am not passing judgment. Rather this incident sparked a curiosity/wonderment that has stayed with me all week.
So as I was in Old Navy this week for the 9th time, I saw an old co-woker of mine from my Eddie Bauer days. I immediately hid my face in an effort to avoid eye contact, as is my social M.O. mainly because I don’t remember names sometimes…often…almost always.
But walking out to my car I ran smack dab into this girl and inadvertently made eye contact. So then we both fumbled and got the names straight. Amidst the small talk, I noticed she was loading her two adorable small boys into a fairly new white Escalade (the one with gold trim, minus the Moroni antenna topper…).
I remembered that her husband had been a student, and two years ago (the last time I’d seen her) he had joined the National Guard to supplement their income. She was pregnant, and worked part-time at Eddie Bauer to help make ends meet. They must be doing well, I thought.
So I asked, “How is your husband doing?”
“Oh, he passed away.”
I was totally shocked. “I am so sorry. When?”
“About two years ago. He was training in Tooele and was involved in a truck roll-over accident.”
I must admit that I was first shocked and second sad to hear this, but that my THIRD reaction was “So you bought an Escalade?” I didn’t say this, of course…
But as the awkward conversation dwindled, all I could think of was the Escalade. She has two little boys, and a HUGE, expensive, conspicuously extravagant luxury SUV.
People express their grief in different ways. Not to say she wasn’t grieving. But an Escalade?
Later that day, after much personal reflection, I assured Todd that if he died suddenly I wouldn’t buy an Escalade.
“That’s nice of you,” he said. “But if you die I’m getting a Ducati.”
So as I was in Old Navy this week for the 9th time, I saw an old co-woker of mine from my Eddie Bauer days. I immediately hid my face in an effort to avoid eye contact, as is my social M.O. mainly because I don’t remember names sometimes…often…almost always.
But walking out to my car I ran smack dab into this girl and inadvertently made eye contact. So then we both fumbled and got the names straight. Amidst the small talk, I noticed she was loading her two adorable small boys into a fairly new white Escalade (the one with gold trim, minus the Moroni antenna topper…).
I remembered that her husband had been a student, and two years ago (the last time I’d seen her) he had joined the National Guard to supplement their income. She was pregnant, and worked part-time at Eddie Bauer to help make ends meet. They must be doing well, I thought.
So I asked, “How is your husband doing?”
“Oh, he passed away.”
I was totally shocked. “I am so sorry. When?”
“About two years ago. He was training in Tooele and was involved in a truck roll-over accident.”
I must admit that I was first shocked and second sad to hear this, but that my THIRD reaction was “So you bought an Escalade?” I didn’t say this, of course…
But as the awkward conversation dwindled, all I could think of was the Escalade. She has two little boys, and a HUGE, expensive, conspicuously extravagant luxury SUV.
People express their grief in different ways. Not to say she wasn’t grieving. But an Escalade?
Later that day, after much personal reflection, I assured Todd that if he died suddenly I wouldn’t buy an Escalade.
“That’s nice of you,” he said. “But if you die I’m getting a Ducati.”
Saturday, April 16, 2005
If I Were a Mormon Celebrity…
This is what my day would be like:
5.oo am Pray for 30 min., being famous requires a lot of “favors”
5.3o am Read scriptures for 30 min. making notations for Book of Mormon commentary I will be publishing later in the year. Drink a cup of Mockaccino, my own brand of Mormon “coffee” sold in fine food emporiums in Utah, Idaho, and Arizona.
6.oo – 7.3o am Work out with Utah-equivalent of Radu, trainer to the stars. LaVell will do, I suppose, although he tends to over work my glutes and neck muscles.
7.3o – 10.oo am Early temple session (all clothing rentals and breakfast in the cafeteria are on the house, of course…must also enter and exit through special “celebrity” entrance, no recommend necessary…)
Personal Assistant: Pick up white custom Escalade with gold-leafed chrome and custom Moroni antenna topper from car shop.
1o.oo – 11.oo am Appointment at Beehive Clothing for custom fitting
11.oo – 12.oo pm Sit for interview with Doug Fabrizio on KUER’s “Radio West” show…promote new book and CD. Harmlessly flirt…like we always do. Set up lunch date for next week to get my ideas for interesting topics.
Personal Assistant: Take documents to accountant. Make sure he sees the celebrity tithing voucher (only 8% this year!)
1.oo – 2.oo pm Book signing at Deseret Book in University Mall…overwhelmed by crowds…need police escort.
2.oo – 3.oo pm Photo shoot for modest swimwear . It’s the next big thing!
Personal Assistant: Field any calls from Sherry Dew concerning October’s General Conference suit. Tell her to go with blue.
3.oo – 4.oo pm Meet with acting coach about cameo role in Richard Dutch’s new “God’s Army II: In the Hood”
5.oo – 6.oo pm Dinner at Café Rio – order and pick up at celebrity drive thru
Personal Assistant: Remind Café Rio employees that on the celebrity stamp card it only takes 5 stamps to get a free meal, and if the meal is comped I still get a stamp
6.oo – 8.oo pm Secret Weekly Mormon Celebrity Seminar – Tonight’s guest host Michael Ballam on “Typecasting”
Tonight’s topics:
“How to Get Recognized in the Mall”
“Diet Coke with Lime: OK in a Paper Bag?”
“How to Act Normal in Church or in Public”
“Botox and the Word of Wisdom”
“The Face of Humility”
“Damage Control Series Part VI: When the Person You Are Dating Brings Your Ratings Down”
“Wedding Rings: I Do or I Don’t in Public”
9.oo – 10.oo pm spend quality time with family
Personal Assistant Reminder: Have nanny up bedtimes to 9.05 to squeeze out a few extra minutes for stress relieving yoga. Add to schedule.
10.oo – 12.ooam Answer fan email. Write daily blog for fan website. Lurk on other Mormon blogs to see if I’m mentioned, Google myself.
Personal Assistant: Continue to say nightly prayers for me according to list of things needed doing.
5.oo am Pray for 30 min., being famous requires a lot of “favors”
5.3o am Read scriptures for 30 min. making notations for Book of Mormon commentary I will be publishing later in the year. Drink a cup of Mockaccino, my own brand of Mormon “coffee” sold in fine food emporiums in Utah, Idaho, and Arizona.
6.oo – 7.3o am Work out with Utah-equivalent of Radu, trainer to the stars. LaVell will do, I suppose, although he tends to over work my glutes and neck muscles.
7.3o – 10.oo am Early temple session (all clothing rentals and breakfast in the cafeteria are on the house, of course…must also enter and exit through special “celebrity” entrance, no recommend necessary…)
Personal Assistant: Pick up white custom Escalade with gold-leafed chrome and custom Moroni antenna topper from car shop.
1o.oo – 11.oo am Appointment at Beehive Clothing for custom fitting
11.oo – 12.oo pm Sit for interview with Doug Fabrizio on KUER’s “Radio West” show…promote new book and CD. Harmlessly flirt…like we always do. Set up lunch date for next week to get my ideas for interesting topics.
Personal Assistant: Take documents to accountant. Make sure he sees the celebrity tithing voucher (only 8% this year!)
1.oo – 2.oo pm Book signing at Deseret Book in University Mall…overwhelmed by crowds…need police escort.
2.oo – 3.oo pm Photo shoot for modest swimwear . It’s the next big thing!
Personal Assistant: Field any calls from Sherry Dew concerning October’s General Conference suit. Tell her to go with blue.
3.oo – 4.oo pm Meet with acting coach about cameo role in Richard Dutch’s new “God’s Army II: In the Hood”
5.oo – 6.oo pm Dinner at Café Rio – order and pick up at celebrity drive thru
Personal Assistant: Remind Café Rio employees that on the celebrity stamp card it only takes 5 stamps to get a free meal, and if the meal is comped I still get a stamp
6.oo – 8.oo pm Secret Weekly Mormon Celebrity Seminar – Tonight’s guest host Michael Ballam on “Typecasting”
Tonight’s topics:
“How to Get Recognized in the Mall”
“Diet Coke with Lime: OK in a Paper Bag?”
“How to Act Normal in Church or in Public”
“Botox and the Word of Wisdom”
“The Face of Humility”
“Damage Control Series Part VI: When the Person You Are Dating Brings Your Ratings Down”
“Wedding Rings: I Do or I Don’t in Public”
9.oo – 10.oo pm spend quality time with family
Personal Assistant Reminder: Have nanny up bedtimes to 9.05 to squeeze out a few extra minutes for stress relieving yoga. Add to schedule.
10.oo – 12.ooam Answer fan email. Write daily blog for fan website. Lurk on other Mormon blogs to see if I’m mentioned, Google myself.
Personal Assistant: Continue to say nightly prayers for me according to list of things needed doing.
Thursday, April 14, 2005
On the Positive Side of Neutral
So yesterday, as I was participating in a charming “let’s take ice cream to daddy at work” activity with my sister, Amy Lynn and her three darling children, I passed by a guy who was standing in the building lobby talking on the phone. He looked familiar, and without much guessing I knew it to be a former fellow Scottish Mission missionary.
I said (rudely butting in, for he WAS on the phone),”You’re “M”, right? You were in my mission…” Notice how I said he was in MY mission? Why does it always have to be about me? Oh yeah, because I’m a narcissistic-egomaniac who is also surprisingly shy….See how I go on about myself?
He said, “Yeah, you’re…(wheels turning) Sister Oscarson.”
“Well, you’re on the phone so…” I said as I continued to make my way through the lobby and up the stairs. I wished we could have chatted a little since he happened to marry the sister of someone I know well (the one and only Christian f ), and it would have been a pleasant thing to make that connection.
Once I passed on by he continued his phone conversation, as is proper, but then I heard him say to the person on the phone, “Yeah, I just saw a sister from my mission…creepy…”
Creepy? CREEPY?! Did running into me necessitate the description of CREEPY? I am many things (see above) but I am not, nor have I ever been, CREEPY.
It WOULD have been creepy IF:
1. He would have run into say, 6 other sisters from his mission that same day…
2. He had recalled to that very person he was talking to a witty antidote from his mission that involved me just as I was walking through the door…
3. There is a girl who looks just like me who he THINKS is me, and she stalks him day and night…
What is NOT creepy is a person just recognizing you and saying “hi”.
While HE looked pretty much the same, I do as well if you just take the missionary me and stuff 40 lbs of adipose tissue under my skin concentrating heavily on the butt and thigh regions. No big whoop. But maybe this former Elder “M” finds weight gain “creepy.”
All I can say for him, and maybe this is all anyone can ever hope for after not being seen for ten years, is that he looked on the positive side of neutral. I definitely would have taken that over creepy.
Certain creative acknowledgements should be made to the one and only Kacy .
I said (rudely butting in, for he WAS on the phone),”You’re “M”, right? You were in my mission…” Notice how I said he was in MY mission? Why does it always have to be about me? Oh yeah, because I’m a narcissistic-egomaniac who is also surprisingly shy….See how I go on about myself?
He said, “Yeah, you’re…(wheels turning) Sister Oscarson.”
“Well, you’re on the phone so…” I said as I continued to make my way through the lobby and up the stairs. I wished we could have chatted a little since he happened to marry the sister of someone I know well (the one and only Christian f ), and it would have been a pleasant thing to make that connection.
Once I passed on by he continued his phone conversation, as is proper, but then I heard him say to the person on the phone, “Yeah, I just saw a sister from my mission…creepy…”
Creepy? CREEPY?! Did running into me necessitate the description of CREEPY? I am many things (see above) but I am not, nor have I ever been, CREEPY.
It WOULD have been creepy IF:
1. He would have run into say, 6 other sisters from his mission that same day…
2. He had recalled to that very person he was talking to a witty antidote from his mission that involved me just as I was walking through the door…
3. There is a girl who looks just like me who he THINKS is me, and she stalks him day and night…
What is NOT creepy is a person just recognizing you and saying “hi”.
While HE looked pretty much the same, I do as well if you just take the missionary me and stuff 40 lbs of adipose tissue under my skin concentrating heavily on the butt and thigh regions. No big whoop. But maybe this former Elder “M” finds weight gain “creepy.”
All I can say for him, and maybe this is all anyone can ever hope for after not being seen for ten years, is that he looked on the positive side of neutral. I definitely would have taken that over creepy.
Certain creative acknowledgements should be made to the one and only Kacy .
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