omg lol

My brother in-law Josh, generously gifted me a Blackberry Pearl for Christmas. Even though I am still deconstructing its complexities I have not slowed my texting habit. This past week alone I sent the following (inappropriate) text messages to the wrong people:

1. "I am still so grossed out that Dougie sampled your lady milk." (sorry emily w.)

2. "ROADTRIP!" (sorry nikki s.)

3. "I wish you were a treasure troll too." (sorry matt m.)

4. "Oh heeeey boo." (sorry bishop walton)

Love?

The following scene occurred last Sunday at an after-church activity at the bishop's house:

I am eating and half zoned out but catch a girl staring at me. We do the awkward "look-away-and-pretend-it-never-happened" routine, but it happens several more times. Some time passes, I finish a conversation with a friend, and StareGirl approaches me.

Me: Hey

StareGirl: Okay. I don't really know how to talk to people. Well, about anything other than books. So, do you like to read?

Me: Uh?..

Looks like I found a Valentine's date! jk.

Marcel the Shell with Shoes On

Sir, You Left Something in the Pool

It's a cold night in Flagstaff, and I'm in the library dreaming of a sunny beach. I am reminded of a tale. It's no mystery that I enjoy a tan. Before you snarl and cast me aside like some orange, sun (bed) worshiping cast member of the Jersey Shore, keep in mind that even though I may lay in the (real) sun from time to time I do so safely (if there's such a thing). The day I'm about to tell you about is when my love affair with sunscreen began.

After a trip through Sonora, Mexico, a group of friends and I ended up in Phoenix for a couple days of R&R at one of their apartments. One afternoon, relaxed and reading by the pool, we were joined by a feeble old man with a wobbly gait. To our fright the old man disrobed revealing an itty bitty black Speedo and bones draped in paper thin skin; skin draped in shoddily placed Band-Aids; Band-Aids almost hiding open, oozing sores.

"No problem," I thought, "I can handle this." Right? Sure I might be a borderline gerontaphobe, germaphobe, agoraphobe, agliophobe, opensoreaphobe, and publicpoolaphobe but I remained composed. Until, that is, he jumped in the pool and at least one Band-Aid crept its way from the old man's hyde into the water. There in the pool bathed the old man, publicly cleansing the ooze from his mystery wounds. And there poolside, me, cringing, sweating, panicking.

Satisfied, the old man retired. Walking toward his lounge chair, he crossed in front of me, stopped, took note of my UV overdose, reattached a loose Band-Aid, and said, "You'd better be careful or you'll end up looking like me."

Terrified and speechless, I stole Kimmy's bottle of CopperTone SPF 70 and finished the thing off.

ZOMBIE USA

A peak at the First Annual Flagstaff Zombie Flesh Crawl:

 

Zombie business

Looking for the undead details and updates? Here's the new Flagstaff thread on the official site.

Read Me:

In need of a mind blow? Here it is. Fadiman's ethnographic, historical, and journalistic combo will leave you questioning biomedical practitioners, the significance of ethnomedicine and alternative methods of healing, non-western concepts of health and illness, and the history of the Hmong and their contributions to America. "The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down" is disturbing, enlightening, and unforgettable. I love medical anthropology.

Flagstaff Zombie Flesh Crawl

EVERY cool city has an annual zombie walk/fest/march/crawl event around Halloween time. To my knowledge Flagstaff is the exception. Until 2010, that is.

Ladies, gentlemen, and zombies,
Let it be know that today marks the birth of the Annual Flagstaff Zombie Flesh Crawl.

WHAT: Zombie walk through Downtown, followed by Zombie Ball in the square/food drive for St. Mary's Food Bank
WHEN: Friday, October 29, 2010 @ 5:00 p.m.
WHERE: Heritage Square, Downtown Flagstaff
WHO: All living dead and fans thereof. Individuals, friends, children, families, grandparents, dogs, etc.
WHY: Because Halloween in Flag needs a jump start, everyone needs an excuse to get their zombie on, Flag food banks need community support, and Zombies make life worth living, or not.

If you have any advice, concerns, etc., PLEASE let me know! I need your help.
See you in the square!

Part II

Here they are folks. I apologize for leaving you so long without so much as a glimpse of Trish's beflared orange Crocs. Now you can bask in their glory. You're welcome.

Summer Affair

There is no way I will be able to capture the treasure trough that is my dear friend *Trish, but I simply cannot keep her to myself any longer. I met her in San Diego at the New Roots Farm. Trish lives across the street, has a plot at the farm, and grows a very handsome carrot. Within a week of meeting her I knew we had something special and I told her so. She proposed that we get to know each other on a more intimate level, and I consented. It all happened so fast; butterflies were swarming in my gut when she invited me over to her place, I hopped into bed, took a few deep breaths, and she whispered, "Are you ready?" "Yes", I responded, "I think I am." And so it happened, there was no turning back, my mind was made up. Trish reached her hand under the sheet, tickled me, rubbed me just right, then bluntly asked, "Do you have diarrhea?"

I guess those weren't butterflies.

Never have I revealed the inner workings of my mind and soul and er, bowels so quickly. With Trish however, it all flowed like clockwork, via my feet. You see, Trish is no ordinary woman, she is my foot reflexologist.

It started as an orange glow slowly creeping toward me. The glow steadily took shape and I could see that it wasn't a hovering orb, rather a woman. No, not just any old woman, a rosy-cheeked, stocky, 40-something woman dressed in an orange shirt, orange fleece vest, orange hat, and best of all, bright orange Crocs. She greeted me, I said, "Good morning", she said, "Well it's okay, but I just found out I'm allergic to red and yellow food dyes so I can't eat any of my favorite foods anymore. Isn't it ironic how red and yellow make orange. That means I can't eat cheese or Cheetos. And I am STARVING." From that moment on our relationship blossomed.

During my first foot reflexology session my feet revealed to Trish that I have persistent neck and shoulder pains, childhood trauma, an irritable bowel, anxiety being alone, sinus congestion, a fever, a severe learning disability, and my most favorite ailment of all, an itchy anus. I disagreed to most of what she read but I was constantly reminded that, "Feet don't lie." Lying or not, my feet were definitely talking. So much in fact that my energy was finding its way into Trish's body and releasing itself in the form of burps, sneezes, and "toots." Classy, Trish.

My problems might sound drastic but at least I'm not Trish who confessed to having an even more severe learning disability, stubborn yeast infections, lines consistent with homosexuality, anxiety, rheumatoid arthritis, back, shoulder, neck and hip pain, teeth and gums "issues", etc., etc.

Speaking of those lines, Trish is "not gay", in fact she recently subscribed to a dating website in hopes of finding Mr. Right. Fair enough, but "feet don't lie", right? Besides, "What's so wrong with taking a bath with your best friend. It'd be a shame to run a whole bath for just one body." Said she. Trust me, I didn't let this one slip by. Forgive my prudence and possible naivete, but bathing with one's bf is not normal, is it?

Trish is one of my favorite people from summer 2010. She knows more about me than I'm comfortable with, but somehow her incessant talking and offering of TMI without any probing on my end is what makes her so darned likable.



*name has been changed