Has spam mail become lazy or poetic?

The welfare of the indians had been strictly committed to his charge by ferdinand and isabella.

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Pierre was so used to that smile, and it had so little meaning for him, that he paid no attention to it. Thats it, come on.

What happened to common courtesy?

It annoys me when people get on an elevator before letting the people exit. When you pack 20 people into an elevator and one person still has to fight to get out on their floor, it's uncomfortable and squished. It seems so simple.

Summary: Letting someone out of an elevator first is easy and not doing it makes Emily Post cry.

Ways in which I am afraid I will die

1. Freak car accident - thinking logs flying off the truck in front of me and crushing me. This fear is thanks to a Reader's Digest article and Twister.

2. Falling down stairs - I count stairs so I pay more attention to them. I have not yet found a set of stairs with 13 steps, but when I do it may be that one that does me in.

3. Home invasion - for countless years I've had nightmares about people breaking into where I live. Since I often cannot distinguish reality from dreams, after waking up I spent the next 20+ minutes trying to determine what is real.

4. Spider bites - perhaps my most reasonable fear, based on the movie Arachnophobia.

5. Falling in the shower - as my bones become more fragile and brittle this may move higher up on the list.

6. Unknown genetic disorder - too many medical classes.

7. Falling off a cliff - I have poor depth perception and vertigo.

8. Attacked by dogs - as a rule I'm not scared of dogs, but I was bit by one earlier this year and can't help but think it's one of the ways I would least like to go.

9. Assassinated by bugs - I once read a Goosebumps story about a boy who tortures the ants in his ant farm and when he throws them out they come back and cover him while he's sleeping and then when he screams they flood into his mouth and drown out his dying screams; I've said some horrible things to the roaches we've found in our house.

10. Jon killing me - this is something I joke about with Jon. Although I don't really believe he would hurt me, he is just so crazy sometimes that I don't know what could happen. I had a dream as a freshman in college that a magician had turned all my friends into clones that were trying to kill me, and the Jon clones were the most terrifying. This magician is the same one who haunted my dreams as a child and turned my stuffed animal against me.

"Curtis's family is very Southern."

This what Mylene (ME-lin) said to us as she invited us over to their house for Thanksgiving. Curtis is her husband and his family will be there. Everyone in our ward has been very welcoming, and not in the creepy "new meat" sort of way that often happens in wards.

Despite that, food is still a tricky issue because Meat is King. Green beans are made better with fatback, people snack on pork rinds, and when you hear someone's family is "very Southern*" that means good ol' home cooking [and hopefully not racism, like the man in the hospital who told me he was pleasantly surprised at how nice everyone in the hospital was - even the black people].

Myelene is very friendly and we accepted without reservations but some anxious anticipation at what kind of game plan we will employ to avoid embarassment and ridicule. Jon has planned on not eating meating to show his solidarity, although he did ask to have gravy. We'll see what interesting stories our Southern Thanksgiving yields for posterity.


* I should also say that from my experience "very Southern" also means exteremly hospitable and very considerate drivers, along with many other good traits.

I don't like the phrase, "That's all anyone could ask for."

"Well the bills are paid and that's all anyone can ask for." I thought to myself. And then I realized that was a horribly untrue thought. People can "ask" for anything they want.

Like my brother. When he was 11 he asked Santa for a laptop, a fax machine (?), and a cell phone. He might not have needed them but he certainly asked for them. This was, however, the point where my mother stepped in and explained that since she had none of these items he would likely not be getting them for Christmas. And when that didn't work it was time for the Santa Talk (which I believe was not well received and needed repeating the next year).

Medical professional notwithstanding, there are only so many times I can see the word: buttocks

Buttocks

BUTTOCKS






buttocks

Buttocks





buttocks

buttocks

before I laugh.

I miss gathering with friends around food. Large groups of friends around restaurants, but especially female friends. Girls understand that some days you want to eat a pan of brownies with a friend. Jon, on the other hand, could eat a pan of brownies (or package of cookies, or package of veggie burgers) by himself. He's eaten entire packages of cookies while I'm asleep and he muddles through his nights off. And he rarely wants to share treats with me when we're together.

I guess I'm a social eater and Jon only likes to eat by himself.

Am I the only person who wishes someone would say/do something really offensive that would completely justify punching that person (preferably in the face)?

I'm convinced that there is almost nothing better than sleeping in and then eating a large bowl of the most sugary cereal in the world.

I was told that some of the patients at the hospital might want to show me incisions, scars, and wounds. I was prepared for that.

I was not prepared for the daughter of a patient who pulled down her pants to show us that she had a hysterectomy.