A Small, Black Fly

It was a nice day, so I opened the window.

I saw him come in through the corner of my eye, the smallest of my periphery.By the time I could see him clearly, it was too late.

He flew around the room, careful not to get too close, and I pretended not to notice. I just assumed he would leave, but he stayed all winter long.

When spring came, I got distracted by a spider, and I don't know what became of him. He may have been in the corner, or he may have flown away, but by the time the spider had left, he was sitting on my wall as if he had been there the whole time. When the moth showed up to distract me while my body got rid of the venom, he flew around the room. He once tried to land on my foot, but I quickly brushed him off.

When the moth left, he began to make more noise. He landed on my hand, but this time I held still. We stared at each other, afraid to move, and he eventually flew away. Whether I left my hand in the same place or not, he always came back, but only for short visits.

He started to tease me, flying around the room, buzzing in my ear for a split second now and again. He zipped away before I could turn my head, not staying long enough or getting close enough to be caught. So I left the window open, but he wouldn't leave. I quickly grew tired of this.

I have terrible aim, so I only got his wing or maybe his leg. Now he sits, wounded but proud, in the windowsill. I hope he flies away.

But then what would I think about?

"Poison and Wine"--The Civil Wars

SOUND Article: 7/3/12


http://www.soundmagonline.com/poison-and-wine-the-civil-wars/


Sometimes you have to listen to a song because it hurts.

A friend showed me “Poison and Wine” a few months ago, and when it got to the chorus he said, “I mean, duh.” With perfect harmony, the Civil Wars simply, beautifully and perfectly explain a specific kind of heartache. Everyone has been there — and it always hurts — but you always get through it, marching on like the steady drum beat in this song.

"Heartbeat"--The New Electric Sound

SOUND Article: 6/19/12

http://www.soundmagonline.com/heartbeat-the-new-electric-sound/

Have you been looking for “a surf-rock/oldies-inspired band with a new twist and shout?” One that sounds “like a hydro-electric Surfaris Mothra rising from the ashes of an African village burned to the ground by minotaurs from Buddy Holly’s personally shaded zoo garden in the sky”?

Well, according to The New Electric Sound’s Facebook description, you are in luck. This up-and-coming band, formed last August, knows how to kick it old school and pump up the whammy to create a sound that is both new and electric. NES is offering a free download of their new song, “Heartbeat,” to get listeners excited for their album release show on June 22 in Provo, UT. Download the single for free here and listen to some of the group’s other great songs so you can get pumped for a great summer on the beach.

"Blindsided"--Bon Iver

SOUND Article: 5/16/12

http://www.soundmagonline.com/blindsided-bon-iver/


In preparation for a nine and a half hour road trip, I decided to buy some new albums to make the solo-drive more bearable. Some were new, some were old, some were suggestions from friends and some were suggestions from the guy at the store. Having completed the drive there and back (almost 20 hours total), I now consider myself an expert on good driving music.

I particularly enjoyed listening to Bon Iver’s album, For Emma, Forever Ago. Everything about his music is soothing and enchanting. The fifth song on the album, “Blindsided,” was definitely my favorite. As I drove through northern Idaho — green, mountainous and insanely beautiful — this song played and I was entranced by the rhythmic, sweet sadness. I thought to myself, “Everything about this moment is perfect.” Have a listen.

"I Wanna Be Your Man"--Willy Moon

SOUND Article: 3/20/12

http://www.soundmagonline.com/i-wanna-be-your-man-willy-moon/

Standing in the spotlight in a sharp, well-tailored suit, Willy Moon will take you back to the 1950s (or at least how you imagine the 1950s based on the many times you’ve seen the movie Grease) with his song “I Wanna Be Your Man.” He’s not afraid of talkin’ jive or shaking his hips — and you can’t go wrong with a name like Willy Moon.

This short, catchy song is heavy on the whammy and reminiscent of the days of early rock n’ roll that makes me nostalgic for a time period I didn’t get to experience. The black and white music video and side part help, too. If you listen closely, however, it sounds like some of the instrumentals are being played in reverse alongside some breathy percussion, making this song more interesting and addicting. It’s over before you know it, so enjoy it while you can.

Listen to “I Wanna Be Your Man” by Willy Moon below:

Call me Aunt Kathy

I have a good excuse for not writing in a while.

In my first blog post I mentioned several nicknames I have been given over the years, including Aunt Kathy. This became a joke because frequently, when I introduce myself, people say "I have an aunt named Kathy."

The nickname is no longer just a joke.

My little sister, Lisa, had a healthy little boy last week. Ryan William Marchand (marsh-and) was 6 pounds 13 ounces and 18 1/2 inches long and is doing his best to keep growing. He is the cutest baby that has ever been born. But you don't want to read about it. I'll just show you.

Ryan was born May 1.

He looks good in hats, too.

Ryan is getting to know his grandma.

They must be related.

Nicki demanded that I show that she does actually have a normal face.

Ryan likes to cuddle with his mom. He also likes to eat.

Sometimes he sticks his tongue out.

We like to squeeze Ryan's cheeks.

Young at heart

On my way to work the other day I stopped for a little girl who was marching across the street through the rain on her way to school. She was wearing big black rain boots, a pink poncho, and a silver dress that barely reached her skinny knees. I looked at her, laughed out loud, and thought I remember when my coat and shoes didn't have to match my outfit.

I remember when…

Fifteen minutes felt like an hour and an hour felt like all day.

Going to my room was a punishment.

My hands would smell like grass and gravel from the playground.

My backpack was bigger than my torso and smelled like crayons and glue.

I rubbed my eyes without worrying about smearing any makeup (or seasonal allergies).

Getting up in the morning was easy.

Going to bed was hard.

Ordering off of the kid's menu wasn't something I did to save money.

I liked things that sparkled or lit up.

I would get callouses from the monkey bars.

Roller coasters were scary and spinning didn't make me sick.

Saying "and a half" after my age or height was really important.

I would ask my mom to "bring me a treat" from the grocery store.

My dad could pick me up and swing me around.

My teeth were crooked and too big for my face.

People could see the freckles on my cheeks and nose.

I thought my babysitters were old.

I could wrap myself in a towel after swimming and be mostly covered.

I never regretted anything that I ate.

I watched the Disney channel and Saturday morning cartoons.

I could sleep on the floor.

I thought I wanted to carry a purse.

Any set of furniture was a potential playground.

A handful of change was wealth.

Arguing with my siblings for "shotgun" was something that happened every time we left the house.

I was put “in charge” of my little sisters.

I never used the phone or the computer.

Naps were weird.

I liked pink.

I met a girl at the park who had the same birthday as me and I wondered if we were long lost twins.

I was really good at Chinese jump rope.

I had a crush on some of my older brother's friends.

A messy room didn't bother me.

It was never too hot outside.

I would practice my handwriting and thought cursive would be important someday.

I could do the splits and a front handspring.

The primary songs weren't too high to sing and I could remember the words.

I was shorter than the refrigerator.

Being super ticklish was normal.

There were ribbons on my bike.

I looked like a bean when I wore a swimsuit.

I hated it when people called me cute because I thought I was too mature.

I couldn't jump and touch the ceiling.

I didn't understand deodorant.

I learned how to use the VCR.

I wanted posters to hang on my wall.

I picked up roly-polies.

I could swim in the bathtub.

I wanted to climb everything.

All of my stuffed animals had names.

Grown ups were always right and always taller than me.

I didn't understand dirty jokes.

I got stickers on my homework.

I owned and used rollerblades.

I had no use for bobby pins.

I said "nu-uh" and "yeah-huh."

I went on field trips.

Playing house was a game, not real life.

Collecting things was fun.

I had to ask for permission.

I was a good speller for my age.

I prayed for my cats.

I memorized phone numbers.

And it doesn't feel like that long ago.

Seasonal allergies and emergency rooms

This is all true, and you will believe it because it is me and these are things that happen to me.

A few weeks ago, I went to stay with my wonderful cousin Kerilee for general conference weekend. I was super excited to visit with her and Judd and play with their awesome kids.

This is Graham's "Cheese Face"

I took these pictures over conference weekend last April

The day before I left, however, my right eye started to freak out at while I was at work. This is not unusual because I wear contacts and also because my eyes do weird things sometimes. It was red and itchy, so I tried cleaning my contact, which didn’t work, and then I just hoped the problem would go away.

It didn’t. The next morning on my way to Kerilee’s house I thought I was going to die. Both of my eyes were red and watery and the sun felt like fire. I spent that day going back and forth between contacts and glasses and trying to avoid any bright rooms. I was even wearing my sunglasses inside. The next day, when things didn’t get better, I asked my cousin to take me to a doctor, and we found an urgent care nearby that was open on Sundays.

This is how I feel about wearing glasses.

Long story short, the lady at the counter thought I was 16 but they gave me eye drops anyway. The doctor said I had developed a kind of pink eye that you get from allergies. There are three kinds of pink eye, as it turns out, and I have never had any. I have also never had seasonal allergies, so why wouldn’t my body decide to jump to straight to a case of allergy-induced pink eye that I suspect never actually existed before?

I used up those eye drops in a few days, but was feeling much better.

Until last Thursday.

By the time I got home from work on Thursday, my right eye was bothering me again. I hoped that it wouldn’t suddenly get worse like it did before, but I should have known better.

On Friday, after adjusting the brightness on my screen at work and spending as much time as possible editing hard copies of things, I switched to glasses and went across the street to the pharmacy and got some allergy eye drops, hoping they would have the same effect as the ones the urgent care doctor had given me. A few minutes after I put them in, however, my eyes were burning even more and the only relief I could get was from a two-hour nap on the couch in the bathroom of the Church Office Building. When I woke up, I talked to my supervisor who let me take work home that I could do when I could see again.

I somehow survived the drive home and then slept for another three and a half hours. I wasn’t going to let my silly eyes spoil my weekend plans, however, so I woke up, threw some stuff in a bag, and headed to Provo for the next few days. I had a concert to go to, after all.

Even though it was getting dark outside and it was even darker inside, I decided to wear my sunglasses inside so that I wouldn’t look like a pothead. Also, I would rather people think that I think I’m super cool than wonder what the nerd with seasonal allergies is doing at a smoky concert. I was relieved when some of my friends showed up so I wasn’t standing by myself…at a concert…wearing sunglasses.

The rest of the night was a mixture of painful, awkward, and loud, and I practically passed out at my friend’s house when we finally got home. The next morning I knew right away that I needed to go to the doctor again.

This time, it was my friend Carrie who was kind enough to take me to an insta care in Provo. The doctor looked at me sympathetically and said, “I’m sorry. That looks annoying.” Thanks, doc. He gave me some more eye drops (this time with a renewable prescription) but told me that I should probably see an ophthalmologist the next week. If things got any worse, he suggested that I go to the emergency room where they could get a hold of an on-call ophthalmologist to give me something only ophthalmologists can prescribe.

(Try saying ophthalmologist three times fast.)

We stopped at the pharmacy, I put in some more eye drops, and then I slept some more. I have no idea why I was so tired, but it was a nice break from the searing pain in my eyes.

That afternoon, Carrie and I met up with a few more friends to play some board games. They left the lights off and let me sit in front of the window so I didn’t have to squint (as much). I was mostly able to leave my sunglasses off. After a few hours, though, I couldn’t deny the fact that there was still something wrong with my eyes and I needed relief. Even though it felt ridiculous, I decided to go to the ER…for allergies.

Carrie took me straight to the emergency room, where I stared at the floor for almost an hour while I waited to see the doctor. They finally took me back to a room where I sat on a bed for another twenty minutes and tried not listen to everyone else’s terrible but legitimate reasons for being there. Finally a doctor came and told me that he would talk to the ophthalmologist, whom I never actually saw, and get me stronger, antibiotic eye drops. I told him that the lights were giving me a headache, and he said enthusiastically, “I can help with that!” He disappeared and I waited several more minutes on the cold bed.

Cue super good-looking intern. Handsome walks in with an IV and tells me he is going to hook me up. I looked up at him with my squinty, red eyes, and said, like a genius, “An IV? For what?”

“...Aren’t you sick?”

“Well…it’s just my eyes.”

Blink. Blink.

He stepped out then came back in and told me it’s for my headache.

Whatever. Fine. Why not make this a little more ridiculous.

So Charming hooked me up and I made polite yet awkward conversation, pretending I wasn’t aware that I was completely absurd.

“Yeah, I’m in here for allergies.”

“No, I’ve never had them before.”

“I’m just going to look away while you stick that needle and tube in my arm.”

Winning Smile humored me and then left.

I got a phone call from my friend Bryan and tried to explain that even though I had been at the doctor for a significant portion of my day, I was fine. While I’m on the phone, a nurse came in to hook me up to the fluids. She told me that whatever is in there will help my headache and then asked if I was driving myself home. I told her I wasn’t and she said that they were going to give me some Benadryl as well. I thought she meant later, but I found out that she meant intravenously.

As soon as the fluid hit my system the room got brighter, I got dizzy, and my mouth tasted weird. The nurse told me that was normal and then she left. It didn’t feel normal. The phone call got weird, I started to slur, and this is where I don’t remember as much.

At some point the doctor came in. At another I hung up the phone. From there I remember being really cold and really tired. I started to fall asleep and shiver at the same time. I have never felt so weird.

Tall and Tan came back and took my vitals, nurse came back and unhooked me, and doctor gave me a prescription and sent me on my way.

Carrie drove me to the pharmacy and then her apartment where I quickly passed out on the couch. I woke up to eat dinner and then slept for another 12 hours.

I am happy to report that since then, those eye drops have been working marvelously. My eyes are still a tiny bit sensitive to light, but I had a productive day at work and feel like I can go back to wearing contacts tomorrow.

This is especially good because my glasses are the wrong prescription.

My family is cooler than yours

"Okay, smile!"

Mom: She is unfailingly kind, but my mom can also quote and name all of the characters on South Park. She’s really good at word games and at using words to make people laugh. Polio has left her with a life-long limp, which recently led to a hip replacement. What does her family do? We make fun of her for limping. What does she do? She laughs and makes fun of herself. She likes things that nobody knows about, like plastic canvas, really terrible monster movies, and Mystery Science Theater. There is nothing better than making my mom laugh.

Dad: He is bald. And his family thinks it’s funny. He does too, but he won’t admit it. He is also hilarious, but he’d never admit that, either. He spent the majority of his young adult life playing the drums in various rock bands. He sometimes wore a white fedora and looked like David Bowie. He listens to Dream Theater, AC/DC, Journey, Abba, and Yes and has shared his great taste in music with his children. He is good at everything he tries and everything he says is profound and accurate because he is a genius.

Brother: Larry discovered the secret to a healthy life. As a scrawny kid, he refused to eat anything but macaroni and cheese until he was in his late teens. Now he’s taller, stronger, and healthier than anyone in our family and most other humans. If anyone ever did anything to hurt a member of his family, he would not hesitate to “eliminate the problem” (and he very easily could). Even though he is physically terrifying, he is a laid back yet loyal friend. He watches shows and reads about black holes and physics because he’s super smart. He is also hilarious, but I’m pretty sure he would admit it.

 

Sister: Anything cool that has ever existed was discovered by Nicki before it became popular to anyone else. She introduced me to wonderful things like Flight of the Concords, David Bowie, 21 Jump Street, Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child books, Ralph Vaughan Williams, and Frasier. She likes cools things and old things and fun things because she genuinely likes them. She’s a hipster’s aspiration. She gets the hiccups when she laughs and has handwriting that looks like it was typed. She can sing along to Mariah Carey’s entire Christmas album and play Gershwin’s “Rhapsody in Blue” on the piano with her insanely long fingers. She has more facial control than anyone I have ever met ever and it is the scariest or funniest thing ever, depending on the context.

Sister: Lisa refers to me affectionately as “Hippo” or “Whore”—whichever the situation calls for. When she starts laughing really hard, no sound comes out until she starts coughing and needs an inhaler. She is the shortest person in our family and has the worst asthma, yet she is the only one who has shown real interest in and is good at sports. She can remember every mean thing that Nicki and I have done to her ever but she laughs about it instead of holding grudges (despite the definite emotional damage we probably caused). She knows every good song the day after it comes out and can dance to it, too. Everything she wears looks good and she is an amazing interior designer.  She can also predict the outcome of a mystery movie or show before I even realize that it’s a mystery.

My family bonds over things like X-Files, Harry Potter marathons at Christmas time, Rook, and making fun of each other. We do things like go to Muse concerts together and eat our brains out at amazing restaurants. We have had some pretty hard family and personal struggles, but we always find a way to laugh about it.

I think that’s pretty cool. 

Irritated

I woke up irritated. I didn’t want to get out of bed. So I didn’t until I had five minutes to get ready.

It took me about fifteen. 

I was late.

Utah traffic is irritating. Being tired at work because I’m too lazy to get up on time is irritating. Not being able to focus is irritating.

A friend chatted with me and told me I’m awesome. I didn’t see it until he was offline. I texted him to tell him thanks and the conversation didn’t last.

That always happens. It’s super irritating.

I spent money on something that I don’t need and then got home to find out I have to spend more money on things I can’t avoid.

I made a baked potato that I couldn’t eat.

I saw someone today who matters a lot more to me than I do to him.

In that case, I irritate me.

Then I talked to some people that I wish I had had time to get to know better. But I don’t.

Then I talked to someone that I wanted to get to know because he seemed interesting.

He wasn’t.

Now I can’t sleep because my mind is in a million places.

It’s super irritating.