Saturday, June 30, 2012

found on my computer. [remember how i love gnomes?]

The following was found this evening while clearing up memory on my computer, for no other reason than I was waiting for a load of laundry to finish. I don't remember when I wrote this, or that I even had, but my mind cracks me up. Perhaps, novel material. ;) Ha!

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As most men do, he was not living up to his potential. I met him as he was riding on the back of a turtle-- an attempt to speed up his journey. It takes an awfully lazy creature to determine that a turtle is faster than their own two feet. Gnomes are rather boring creatures; that is, with exception to their phenomenal arguing skills. Being wrong is never an option for a gnome. In that way, they’d make great lawyers.


As a young girl I was taught that men were chivalrous and I was to be distressed and waiting for their help. Then I grew up, and learned that at least the second part was true. It seemed situations always got the better of me. Yet, there was still engrained within my soul, hope that perhaps my mother was right about men.


This hope should have been shattered when I learned that my prince was in fact charming, but was only that way so as to distract me from his thieving and lying. My hope should have been erased when I learned that my husband was responsible for my father’s death. Certainly, my hope in the goodness of men should have been taken when I was kidnapped by a small army of them.


Despite the world sending me signal after signal that my mother had lied to me, I still hoped. I was sitting on the muddy ground, chained to a towering oak tree when I exercised my faith in men one last time. I weakly called out to the gnome, slowly trotting by on his turtle.


“Sir,” my voice trembled at first, “Sir, could you please help me?”


“Bah! Can’t you see I’m in a great hurry? It is none of my worry that you got yourself tangled up in misfortune. I see no reason to put a hold on my journey, and wrap myself in your troubles.”


Seeing this slothful maggot would be of no use to me, I directed my next words toward the turtle. “Mighty fine traveler you have there. I do hope you charge extra to listen to his delightful ramblings.”


The turtle stopped for a moment and nodded in my direction. A man of few words; I liked that.


The gnome was not about to be ignored, “Missy, I suspect that tongue of yours is precisely the reason you’re stuck to that tree. Perhaps the wolves will take it off your hands; if you stay here long enough, you’ll find out. Then again, they may not be able to stop at eating your tongue. Hungry creatures, wolves are.” The chubby little man chuckled a little too hard and nearly fell off his perch.


As he collected himself I grasped a tiny little pebble and flicked it directly into his forehead. Although it was smaller than a button on his shirt, it knocked him off the turtle.


I should warn you to never attack a gnome when you are not in a position to run away. The wretched little thing bit my toe, and much like when a piece of parchment slices the top of your finger, I could feel nothing but excruciating pain.


The awful thing then climbed atop my leg and although he was hardly taller than my longest finger, managed to make my insides turn in the most awful way. I became instantly fearful for my life; there is nothing like being locked in place to make a tiny person seem awfully large and menacing.


“You silly little girl,” he cried as he made his way shakily up to my knee, “never attack a man who is on vacation. He’ll have much more energy to fight back when his mind is not bogged down with other things.” He placed his stubby arms on his hips and tapped his foot. He seemed to be waiting for an apology.

Friday, June 29, 2012

apparently.

if you go to fred meyer's and buy flowers and ice cream,
the coupon machine thinks you are on your period.
they would be correct.
just in case you are a man, they also throw in a coupon for batteries.

just because you have a suspicious bruise and a sprained ankle that seems to not be healing, it does not mean you have leukemia.

a love for all things lime, does not erase your fear of fruit being an ingredient in dessert.
key lime pie is still my favorite flavor of yogurt, even though i don't care for the real thing.

garden gnomes do not clean your bedroom while you're away.
lazy bums.

swimming is the only* available activity during the summer.
heaven forbid we should be creative.
*note: heavy sarcasm.

the sno cone shack girl will make you a large sno cone when you ordered a medium.
but she'll only charge you for a medium and give you several coupons as an apology.
don't you just hate it when you get more than you deserve?
"it's like, i don't even care what happens the rest of the day." -- himym

and apparently, sunshine yellow and tiffany blue nail polish do not exist. rude.
"A person wants to stand in a happy place, in a poem." 
-- Mary Oliver, Singapore

Sunday, June 24, 2012

well-balanced diet.

my dinner tonight consisted of tortilla chips, 2 egg rolls, a sleeve of oreos and a handful of starbursts.

i'm going to make a fan-freaking-tastic mother one day.


Thursday, June 21, 2012

forget solving world-hunger,

what the world really needs is baby toupees.

if you love yourself, you'll go to this website.


Tuesday, June 19, 2012

pouty face.

irony is seeing the man you're in love with, while you're on a date with someone else.


Wednesday, June 13, 2012

my friends are better than yours.

my little friend/gnome to your left is evidence of my affection for porcelain garden-guardians. [say that ten times, fast.]

for my birthday this year, mr. chivalrous bought me my first-ever gnome.

and then yesterday i was at my bff jill's house and she gave me a planter gnome, and a watering can gnome. for no reason, other than she is awesome.


So, the planter gnome on top is named Joe after bff JoAnna.
The watering can was named Patrick after I accidentally kicked him over and said, 'Sorry Patrick.'
And my wheelbarrow gnome from Mr. Chivalrous is named Carl Herbert.

You should be jealous that your friends don't contribute to your irrational collections.

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

oh, utah.

draper chuck-a-rama.
nicknamed up-chuck a-rama since i forgot that i was allergic to potatoes for thirty seconds and consumed them.

baby poop explosion. outfit change. "that's a lot of patterns for one little boy."

"it's either king burger or burger king... i think it's king burger. but we went there."

7/11 slurpees.

family reunion.
grandma didn't recognize me even though she spent a week at my house last month.
grandma saying that uncle kevin was an ugly baby and that my mom cried all the time.

my introduction speech consisting of "I'm Kari. I'm 22. And my husband is off becoming a billionaire. He hasn't met me yet, but he's excited."

humanitarian center tour. guilt trips all around. prayers of gratitude shared all day.

best sloppy joes of my life. aunt julie is a mad chef.

lots of kissing on this face:






driving past lagoon what seemed like fourteen times a day -- breaking my heart a little each time.

target in every city along the way.

late-night talks in harmon's.

wits and wagers. worst game ever made.

hangry's.

tie thieving for free donuts.

proof that even the most dreadful of places can be magical if you have the right company.

lets all go to lagoon on July 28th. Okay? Perfect.

Monday, June 4, 2012

since his return from a stay on the moon.

"I'm afraid that [he] might think of me as:
Plain ol' Jane told a story about a man
Who was too afraid to fly so he never did land."
- Drops of Jupiter, Train


there was this over-whelming distance.
this barrier that only needed time to fall.
as the seconds grew shorter, her heart beat faster.
his presence fell closer and her breaths,
farther apart.

she could imagine his chuckle, his soft smile.
confident dreaming could sustain her aching heart.
her mind was restless; too trusting in rumors.
until she forced herself to replace her hope
with reality.

her mind redirected, but still her heart
chased after a shooting star--out of reach.
her mind reinforced the barrier's strength.
whispers slipped through the cracks; her heart
beat on.

displaced and erased again and again,
her feelings fought through and her love,
her adoration remained for him. a boy
of few words, whose glance turned her knees
into eggshells.

**Summer-school should be forbidden for future doctors that I'm infatuated with. Okay?

Saturday, June 2, 2012

temple trip.

Sno cones.
Balloons for the birthday boy.
Remember when I had a thirty minute crush on him? ... The Bishop?!?
Avril.
The Bachelorette. Charlie is mine.
Out-dancing the other vehicles.
Honking at the bride on the side of the road.
Photo-bombing wedding photos.
Ian offering his hand to each of the ladies as they walk down the stairs.
Being mistaken for fourteen-year-olds more than once.
Standing awkwardly in a towel waiting for a locker.
Tattoos at Pizza Hut. No unicorns -- boycotting from now on.
Successfully spilling water on four tables.
Singing happy birthday to Kyle.
Awkward silence when you realize that it is also another boy's birthday.
Second round of happy birthday, sung with shame.
Impromptu trip to WinCo for birthday cake.
Biting off the tip of an icing bottle to write Kyle's name on the cake.
Knowing that if Riley had come, he'd have had several weapons that would have done a better job.
Feeling like the worst friend ever when Kyle throws up the cake in the parking lot.
Watching a bird eat Kyle's puke.
Changing in a gas station parking lot.
Under the shirt slip drop.
Taylor Swift lip stick.
I'm marrying Chris Young.
"Woah! That is trendy!"
Random stop for the driver to reminisce.
Birthing babies.
I'm Sexy and I Know It.
Boyfriend.
Call Me, Maybe.
Changing lyrics to Taylor Swift songs so that they're about Ian.
Lightning storms.
Hiccup laughs.
Aching abs.
"Come to Jesus!"