Monday, August 8, 2011

Home Again

After a brief stay at the home of a family friend, I'm back in my temporary home with my pseudoaunt and pseudouncle. We had an interesting experience with dry erase markers. I won't go into the entire drawn-out chronology of events, but the three of us present who are not medical doctors were using the surface of the table to solve math problems with dry-erase markerss. Then the  MD came home. The MD among us was at first angry -- at me, predictably; I always get the blame for everything -- for writing on his nearly new table. We showed him that they were dry erase markers that wipe off smooth and hard surfaces. The MD proceeded to write on the matte wallpaper with the markers. The giant happy face he drew quite predictably did not come of when wiped when a napkin or cloth. Don't assume your doctors are geniuses, ladies and gentlemen.

I decided to perform a mizvah and get the giant orange happy face that rsembled a jack-o-lantern off the dining area wall. A large portion of the pseudorelatives' security deposit was riding on it. It isn't easy, but with the right chemicals and a lot of elbow grease, the wall looked like it looked before pseudouncle graced it with his kindergarten-style artwork. I explained that most people draw pictures on paper, and then they hang the pictures on theit walls if they're suitably satisfied with  the results. If he writes or colors on the wall again, I might not be so lucky in terms of my ability to undo the damage.

I'm going back to physical therapy tomorrow with the stipulation that there be NO MASSAGES. Who in the would would attempt a deep-tissue massage on a person with no deep tissues of which to speak?

I had a bad dram about Warren Jeffs last night. I dreamed I was in one of those pastel dresses that all the girls and women of the FLDS wear, and I was pushed into the temple. I tried to get out but all the doors and windows were locked. Warren was searcing for me, and I was hiding. He kept calling out, "I know where all the hiding places are in this temple because I designed it. You'll never get away. " I woke up screaming. My dad's friend gave me medication to slow my heart rate and stayed in the room until I went back to sleep. I hope I don't have another dream like it tonight because I don't want to wake up the pseudorelatives.

Pseudoaunt's brother Timmy knows were there's a cool rope swing that goes over a canyon. We're trying it out tomorrow.

My brother is still without a woman and may be for quite some time. It's one of the hazards of being a sixteen-year-old college freshman. If he wanted to go back and hang out at a high school campus, he'd probably have the women crawling all over him, but at  university, it's just not going to happen  anytime soon.

toki sio


  1. I'm glad you're home and feeling better. I'm so sorry about the dream, hopefully his sentence will ease your mind. My sympathies to your brother as well, unfortunately, I don't think love problems are just for 16 year old high school graduates. Doesn't seem to matter the age or intelligence, love can be troublesome.

  2. 16. I THINK I can remember being 16. Oh, yes. I remember. I stated work and it was down hill after that! Still working 38 years later. There must be something wrong, somewhere! ;o))

  3. It must be nice to be home, even to your temporary home. Enjoy it because sollege lurks right around the corner. you've had some college and think you're ready, but when the full impact hits you, you may look back fondly on the simpler times.

  4. Matthew's going to need to find himself. The best he can hope for is to find someone at one of the high schools who send gifted students for his university for courses. The only real quandary is that these girls would be gifted, and Matthew's never dated anyone all that cerebral.