Taken Verbatim From Tyler's Student's Homework

"I pledgealieigens to the flag of the United States of America. And two the repubic with istand on nation to gon whith liberty and justise for all."

Your homework assignment is to use the word pledgealieigens in a sentence today.

Look Alikes

In my life I've only ever been compared to two celebrity look alikes.

One, Helen Hunt:

And two, Leelee Sobieski:

I like to think that both of these comparisons are connected to my full mane of long blond hair and rockin body, but if I'm honest with myself, I'm sure it has more to do with the thick straight eyebrows and bumpy nose. However, Helen Hunt was one of People Magazine's 50 Most Beautiful People in 1998, an issue I didn't just browse through at the supermarket, but purchased and kept as an homage to my vicarious beauty.

Tyler usually gets compared to two actors.

Jim Carrey:

Or Kevin Bacon:

I think the Jim Carrey comparison comes from Tyler's sheer enthusiasm, which if you haven't witnessed in person, I think that a quick glance at the Corny Collins video posted below should give you a pretty accurate picture. He didn't become an elementary school teacher for nothing.

The Kevin Bacon comparison I find a little more alarming, as I affectionately refer to Kevin Bacon as the Scariest Man Alive. I'm not really sure where this comes from, except that I must have some latent Footloose associated nightmare kicking around in my subconcious, similar to the Michael Jackson nightmare I had when I was eight when Michael Jackson kidnapped me and a bunch of other kids in a large white van, taking us to an office space where two of the kids were laminated.

Talmage, however, has found some more creative look-alikes for Tyler. When he was younger, we used to walk by the Abercrombie and Fitch store and Talmage would shout out "Daddy!"

I let him know that Daddy is not quite as ripped as this guy and that he uses significantly less hair gel. And significantly more clothing.

And then, today at the zoo, Talmage looked at this brute and said with confidence, "This guy like Daddy":

I couldn't agree more.

The Insomnia. It's Back.

I suffer from a very select form of insomnia. I call it reverse insomnia.

Other people have a hard time falling asleep. I can fall asleep almost instantly upon lying down. It's when I wake up four or five hours later that's really the issue. Come two or three in the morning when I can't fall back asleep is the highly-irritating, insanity-inducing problem.

This is another condition (and I mean that in the literal, clinical sense) that I inherited from my father. I add it to the list with the poor dressing, the incessant historical marker reading, and the nose (which my Great Aunt Bergliot informed me this weekend actually originated with my Grandpa Finn. I knew the Norwegians were involved somehow). My dad deals with the issue by going running--not because it helps him sleep, but because you need something to do or else you might go crazy. I once looked at a list of his GPS clocked runs. This is information from the GPS system Dad attaches to his wrist that clocks his distance, calculates his speed at all times, and is downloadable to a satellite map to track his route. (This is opposed to the GPS system that he attaches to his car so he can see where he's going as he's going there: "Look, Laura! You can see my digital car on I-215 heading south. No, wait; my digital car is turning southwest now. Isn't that helpful?" Almost as helpful as noticing that your actual car on the actual freeway is turning right.) The GPS system, in addition to recording information to make a pretty map of his runs up the canyon, also saves the time he did these runs. And the majority of them happen at 2:45 AM.

I told him that it's very difficult to go back to sleep when you're outside in the cold running around the neighborhood. The front yards on Twinbrook St aren't very conducive to early morning napping, particularly when you're the bishop of Twinbrook St. The Petersons probably won't look at it too favorably when they wonder, "Who's that homeless guy in the red sweatsuit with socks on his hands sleeping in the driveway? Oh wait, that's just Bishop Paulsen."

I'm pretty sure he thought I was funny.

I deal with my reverse insomnia the way the Internet taught me to. One, I get out of bed and go sleep on the couch. Staying in bed just trains your body not to sleep when its in bed. Two, I don't (or shouldn't) read in bed. Same thing--trains your body that your bed is not for sleeping. Three, I don't get pregnant (and this is one I just picked up on my own) because pregnancy wakes you up all the time, what with the discomfort and the lack of breathing and the frequent unavoidable urination, giving your mind greater amount of time in which to keep you from going back to sleep.

Because that's really the problem. My mind. I can't turn it off. Not like in the Einstein couldn't stop thinking because of all the important discoveries he had to make, unless you consider these things that occupied my mind in the last hour vitally important (and trust me, my mind thinks they are VITALLY IMPORTANT, enough to keep me awake thinking about them for hours):

1. Did I shut the car windows on the car before I went to bed? Because the car smelled like pizza and it would maybe be a good thing if I didn't do it, unless it rains like it did last night, in which case it would be a very, very bad thing.
2. What am I going to teach on Thursday?
3. Are my students nervous for the test they have tomorrow? Are my other students ready with their drafts for tomorrow? Are they awake preparing these things for tomorrow?
4. I forgot to buy ginger.
5. Are those car windows still open?
6. Tyler is very large. He takes up a large portion of the bed. Next time I get married, that husband (the one whose hand I will only hold and who I will only very occasionally kiss) will be 5'2".
7. "And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make." What does that mean? Is that a cheesy Paul lyric or a drug-induced John lyric?
8. Due to the pregnancy, I'm breaking out like a fifteen year old teenager. Maybe I can go a whole week without popping this zit on my forehead. Yeah, never going to happen.
9. What about those car windows?

And finally,

10. This blog entry. Which meant I had to get up and write it. Feel free to notice the time it's posted. Also feel free to forgive me for any lack of coherency.

And feel free not to point out how, like running, it's very difficult to go back to sleep when you're typing at the computer.

Don't Turn Around

A special thanks to Talmage's uncle Clark for lessons in Child Abuse 101:

How I Know I'm Pregnanter Than Last Time Around

I regularly use the excuse, "I can't take care of your child anymore. I have to go work on your baby's eyebrows."

Save the Animals. All of them.

I'm a frequent attender of the zoo, frequent enough that when you ask Talmage what his favorite animal is, he'll say, "The rides." See, the animals are all old-hat, and Talmage's preferred path through the zoo would start with the giant granite globe-shaped fountain, then hit the playground with the green slide, head on over to the gift shop (a mysterious place full of marvelous wonders, made even more mysterious by the fact that I've never let him linger there for more than 3.7 seconds), a beeline to the carousel, a hot dog by the tigers (not that he has any interest in the tiger, just the hot dog. And while we're at it, we might as well get a lemonade and an ice cream), then head on back to the entrance for a train ride before we go. Unfortunately for him, I'm the tender-hearted animal lover in my family, and I was raised by David "Don't worry that we're going 78 mph, I can just turn right around to read the sign accompanying that historical marker" Paulsen and I like to read all the text placed by every exhibit several times a week. This also makes me the foremost non-zoo-employee expert about the Hogle Zoo, and if you want to hear something fascinating (read, listen to a 20 minute lecture) ask me about the giraffes some time. (They have a 25 lb heart. TWENTY-FIVE POUNDS.)

The zoo achieved special status this week in the "People and/or Organizations That I've Said No To Because I'm Not Yet Ready to Commit to A Position Strongly Enough to Post Your Campaign Sign in My Front Yard." There are eight other members of this club. This says several things about me. One, I really need to figure out what the issues in the upcoming campaign are. Two, I really need to figure out what I feel about these issues. Three, my yard must look KILLER due to the regrown grass I planted last spring (see here) if so many people want me to showcase them. Or at least I like to think so.

Hogle Zoo is seeking approval for a 33 million dollar bond to be given and used over the next 30 years to improve the zoo, including a polar bear exhibit, an new African safari exhibit and other various projects. Interestingly, Tyler's only comment when I shared this info with him was, "They don't even have any polar bears." He apparently isn't a three times a week zoo lover like I am.

Tracy Aviary is also seeking additional funding. I have two thoughts about these campaigns. One, though I'm not ready to display my commitment through lawn signs, I think these are valuable causes and worth studying out. Two, as their website points out, the Tracy Aviary is a valuable, valuable gem that needs to be preserved:

"Tracy Aviary is a jewel unlike almost anything in the nation – right here in Salt Lake County.

One of only two public aviaries in the entire country

The only public aviary west of the Mississippi

The oldest and largest public aviary in the nation"

As noted above, it is one of only two public aviaries. TWO. Also, it is the only public aviary west of the Mississippi. As it is only one of two, the other public aviary is located east of the Mississippi. Tracy Aviary is the oldest and largest public aviary in the nation. Meaning that the other aviary--the one that is located east of the Mississippi--is newer and smaller.

Okay, maybe I'm the only person who finds that funny.

Boundin'

Just to Clarify

"So, you know how I want you to remarry if I die tomorrow for Talmage's sake?"
"Yes."
"And you know how you are allowed to hold the new guy's hand?"
"Yes."
"And how you are only allowed to kiss him on special occasions?"
"Uh-huh."
"And when I say kiss, you are aware there is nothing French implied in that?"
"Yes."
"And that's it? Nothing else beyond the hand-holding and the very occasional kissing?"
"Yep."
"Well, when I said you were allowed to hold his hand, I more meant like when he helps you out of the car."

Escape

Blah, blah, blah, Laura hasn't posted for awhile. I've been busy.

I actually finished this book a couple of weeks ago but the aforementioned busyness has kept me from posting. I didn't plan on reading this book but it was on my mom's coffee table and while I was cooking at her house I picked it and read the first chapter. I left it alone until Tyler did the same thing and then brought the book home.

It's a book about Carolyn Jessop, a woman who is married as the fourth wife to Merrill Jessop, the current assumed de facto leader of the FLDS church and her rather abusive marriage. I applaud her courage to begin a new life in a culture so entirely different from anything she is familiar with. I admire her as a woman.

But, as a book, it was fine. Compelling, but fine. The writing wasn't fantastic. It wasn't poor and it was honest, but not fantastic. I don't really think the writing itself was the goal, so I don't think that was necessarily a fault of the book, but it made me wonder what was so compelling about the book. Why did I read it in 24 hours and stay fascinated the whole time if I can admit even now that I don't think it's amazing?

I guess I had two thoughts in response to that. One, I think there's value in books that are not fabulously life changing and that just entertain. I can see the point that with so many books out there, why waste time on not-amazing books? But sometimes you just need a quick read and I don't think there's any shame in that. Besides, I think it comes off as arrogant to not see some value in sheer entertainment.

Second, I think I--like everyone else--like to see just how gory the car crash is on the side of the road. I think there's something about us that likes an excuse to relish in how sickening humanity can be while condemning it at the same time. During the 19th century in art, European viewers could look at paintings like this:



This is an image (Death of Sardanapulus by Delacroix); it is made to be looked at. It allowed nineteenth-century European men the opportunity to delight in a harem, to delight in violence, to delight in luxurious items, and to delight in women. But it also gave them the excuse to do all those "uncivilized" things; it is an illustration of a poem of an Assyrian king, so Western viewers, much more "civilized" than their Near Eastern counterparts, can condemn harems, violence, luxury, and lustful feelings toward women. They can enjoy the barbarity by condemning it at the same time.

All this to say, I think there's a little bit of that going on in Escape. Readers are fascinated by the barbarity and brutality of the FLDS world Jessop describes but are allowed to soak in it because they can condemn it at the same time. I think I'm uncomfortable with how much I did find this book fascinating because I think that fact reveals a more dark side of myself.

Boom Chick-a-Boom

If you ask me, Laura is really slacking with the more "meaty" entries. Embarassing!