blog by betsy

2010-06-28T06:05:00.011-06:00

Hello First World!

We are home. Its 5am and while Danny is sleeping soundly in our extremely comfortable bed, I am wide awake, slightly annoyed that everyone else in the neighborhood is unavailable. We made it home on Friday night and have been in and out of sleep since then.

I am sort of at a loss as of what to write. Whenever I get home from an experience so dense and everyone I love asks, "How was it?" about a hundred pictures, moral conflicts, hilarious stories, strange people, and long and boring stories run past my eyes and all I can answer is, "Good!" Perhaps you have had the same experience.

So, the quick run down is:

I couldn't get a child through customs but if I could have there were about 50 top candidates for
the spot

Danny and I were ultimate tourists for a bit, although unfortunately did not invest in safari hats before our trip

Also found time for some futbol fun amid all the animal watching

Hiked a lot

Of the inspiring people we met, most were staff members of Byana Mary Hill

Taught a lot of classes

Saw heart breaking conditions and wondered how so many people could be so happy.... had a different view on my itty bitty apartment when I got home

Watched Danny learn to navigate business in the developing world (A+ job by the way)

The list goes on and on, if you've got ten hours to spare, come over and I'll show you the rest!

Hakuna Matata

2010-05-14T14:53:00.004-06:00

Today I am a mother of 3. My sis and her hubby took a much needed vacation to Maui and so Danny and I have become mom and dad. If they were going for convincing us to never have children then it is working! Chase is still crying (and has been for the last 3 hours) because I told him he can't play X-Box because he chucked his soccer ball at Bryce's face (bad aim, just hit him in the stomach) from about 5 ft away.

Anyway, wanted to post a couple of updates.

1. I've been married a year, yay us! I am trying to convince Danny to get serious about this marriage and combine blogs with me but I'm not being persuasive enough it seems. Seriously, we are averaging like 1 post every 6 months each.

2. School is out which means my paycheck has stopped and its time for me and Danny to live like college kids again, anyone want to invite us over for dinner?

3. In exactly 10 days we will be popping Loritabs in our mouths and enduring a 27 hr journey to Uganda!

Everything came together about a week ago and now our bank account balance is considerably lower as we are trying to get everything ready to go. While we played with the idea of bagging Uganda and saving our money to go backpack Europe or something I just couldn't do it. Danny was making fun of me that visiting a third world country (excuse me, developing country) is my dream vacation. Not sure why but there is something inside of me that pulls me to places where life is so tangible.

Now it is the hippy inside me's turn to talk. You know what has been bugging me lately? How removed I feel I am becoming and we as a culture are becoming. Perfect example, yesterday I told my nephews to go outside and play soccer and about 10 minutes later they were downstairs playing soccer on the X-Box. Another example, I just facebooked a friend to tell her Happy Birthday. Why didn't I call her or send her a card? Too hard. I have another friend who moved away from me that I miss big time but we haven't talked in months, just text, what up with that (you know who you are Stevey). I never shop in stores any more, granted shopping in Logan sucks, but I sit on the computer and search for what I want and it comes in the mail. I don't deal with people or even have to talk to them. I was trying to sew something and wasn't understanding the directions so I youtube'd it and watched someone else do it instead of reading it until I got it. If I have to wait for anything I am SO annoyed. I think I'm getting dumber.

Ya I know, boo capitalism and development and yay for getting in touch with our inner-selves, its obnoxious, forgive me. I'm just tired of being so climatized all the time. I want to feel sweaty and dirty. I want my schedule to get messed up. I want to be surprised by something that moves me. I want someone to question me and make me uncomfortable by forcing me to think about what I believe or what has always been my perspective on normal. That is why I have loved my experiences in third world countries, they have turned my reality upside down. I am so confused there that it takes me hours to complete something simple like buying shoes or figuring out how to call someone.

Maybe that is why there was a part of me that wanted to stay in Africa the last time I went. It felt simple. I talked to people, I wore whatever, I climbed mango trees and didn't wear shoes. It also helped that everyone thought I was awesome and wanted to talk to me and someone asked me if I was Brittaney Spears (I could see why he would get us mixed up).

However, the downer of my last trip to Africa was that, no matter how exciting and bizarre it was, there was no one there to laugh about it with me. It took me a really long time and a lot of effort and money to get there. I dreamed about it for, literally, years and so when I finally got there all I wanted to do was soak up every minute.

During the first week some of the other people in my organization and I took a van up to the base of Mt. Kilimanjaro do go on a hike. My group was slow and so I took off by myself. The hike was actually down hill and we were going to a waterfall. I ran the trail, overgrown with the fat wet leaves of banana trees, and finally spotted a clearing ahead. I slowed down and walked through the clearing. In front of me was one of the most spectacular sights of my life. A waterfall that I couldn't see the top of was tumbling down the side of Mt. Kilimanjaro, falling into a few pools before finally reaching the pool that was at my feet. The pool was full of large boulders. The sides of the mountain were green green, rich. As I stood there I felt like I lost my breath. I didn't know what to do. I turned around hoping someone else was coming to be in awe with me but I was all alone.

I took out my camera but the falls looked so bland through my lens that I put it back in my bag. Before I knew it my shoes were off and I was climbing up the rocks framing the waterfall, letting it splash onto my face. It was so grand that there was nothing to do but put my hands, feet, face, mouth, everything on it. It was the strangest feeling to be witnessing something extraordinary, amazing, beautiful to the millionth degree, and to have no one experiencing it with me. My group eventually caught up and joined me on my climb and a couple of us fell off the rocks into the pool and screamed and swam and that was great but the solitary feeling I had there left an imprint on me.

I am glad to have a big white guy joining me this time around. I am glad that whatever waterfall we find, be it a mountain gorilla or some amazing person or just a sight I've never seen before, that I can turn and smile and be understood by the person I love most in the world. Not that my life here does not provide me with any wonderment because when I slow down it does, I just know it and it makes sense.

Stay tuned for some pics if we can find any internet out there!

can you wash a down jacket?

2010-02-17T15:14:00.007-07:00

Seems lately that rather than writing anything down I have just been enjoying seeing and feeling but today I feel like writing.

I've been talking to my sister a lot. I guess I'm always talking to her a lot. My favorite time to talk is when I am out of class and walking home and I have no time limit. The downside is that my preferred path off campus has been closed off due to the snow, and the parking garage I'm supposed to go through doesn't get service. You see the dilemma?

Not willing to wait and call my sister until after I've passed through the parking garage I always choose to step over the wire fence and take slow steps down the ice. The first week of real bad snow I went down the ice covered stairs with my cell phone to my ear, laughing about something, and slipped. One leg up in the air, body becoming horizontal, head hit squarely on the corner of a stair. It hurt. Took me a second to find my phone in the snow, guided by the screaming voice, BETSY? BETSY? BEEEEEEETSY?

Today was no different. Out of class early, time to catch up on all of the thoughts of the last 24 hrs. The snow is melting. I don't take the stairs any more. I walk next to them, snow covered mud usually goes over better. But the snow is wet today, almost gone, and the mud is slippy. I knew I was going down. "I'm gonna slip, I'm gonna slip!" and bam, one leg up, butt slide down the hill, the mud caked up my leg, inside my jacket, in every crack of my bag, but the phone stayed put on my ear. I got up, wrist aching a little,
Did you slip?
Yep
Bad?
Yep
You've got to find a different route
I know

On a different note, there are lots of things to be grateful for these days. I have a new nephew. Danny is now only one year younger than me. I actually surprised him with a bday present, no small feat. Its getting warmer. I made some curtains. I am 77% sure that Danny and I will be exploring African jungles in June. And, I'm eating at Maddox tonight which is supposed to change my life.

I don't have pictures of anything new so I am posting this one. One of my favorites. Bryce at the Taj Mahal singing, Flyyyyy through the sky through the sky through the sky

PS How do I make the picture in the title of my blog fit right?

on enjoying the journey

2009-10-28T10:52:00.006-06:00

There is snow covering the pretty yellow leaves that have not even had a chance to fall completely to the ground yet. Why the hurry? Why do we have to run to the destination called winter or next week or next year or grad school or marriage or career or house or children? Today I wish the snow would have a little patience and let the leaves dry up and fall down before it takes its place on the branches. Today I would like to give the leaves their moment.

The Bus Cont...

2009-08-06T00:23:00.004-06:00

Well, we made it! Danny gave the full low down, lots of pics, and his experience on his blog - dannyhoerman.blogspot.com.

What he didnt tell you was how he practically had to drag me down the trail at some points, it was quite a physical push for me. The bear and the river were no big thing to him but seriously, waist deep swift moving water, Andrew falling back on me, Danny pushing me forward, me squeezed between the two while trying to keep up with Andrews big steps and trying not to fall and be buried under the Teklanika, I thought we were goners.

And the bear? Andrew hears the bear and what does Danny do? Take out his bear spray and walks forward to check it out. He sees the bear sit up and as I am crappying my pants he slowly backs up, calmly shouting at the bear and yelling to me that it would be fine. At the risk of sounding cliche and a bit extreme I felt like I was watching him make the spiritual quest he had been looking forward to for so long and I got to ride on his coattails and enjoy the spice of the adventure!

10 blisters later on my feet and hands (word to the wise: if a rock has just been pulled out of the fire, it is not a good idea to try and pick it up) I feel like I can add my name to the crowd of hippies and vagabonds who have made their way down the loooooooooong trail to the bus.

In the Land of the Midnight Sun

2009-07-02T22:13:00.022-06:00

I have all but given up on our internet and momentarily find myself with a friends computer and seem to have a good enough connection to make a blogtastic post. Hi! I miss you! Thanks for coming and seeing how we are doing. I am going to put up lots of pictures (hopefully) mostly for the benefit of dannys and my moms because they have to care but viewing is optional for anyone who does not fall into that category.

Time is passing quickly and things are happening fast and we find ourselves spending many many hours driving buses or waiting to drive buses and watching the scenery out the window but we have found some time to have some good adventures.

Quick run down:
* My dad came to visit and we had four straight days of ATVing, Dinner Theatre, hiking, riding on buses into the park, making fun of tourists, more hiking, watching my dad beat every guy in our housing at ping pong (and de-throning danny), more making fun of tourists, a little more hiking, walking on beaver dams, listening to dad yell cat calls at the caribou we spotted, etc. It was good times. Now we are awaiting the arrival of Danny's parents in a few weeks.
* We have just passed the longest day of the year where the sun did not, in fact, set at all
* 2 months have officially passed of real bus driving and marriage and neither of us have hit anything or each other (knock on wood)
* For Steven: I ate at..... wait for it ..... the northern most Dennys IN THE WORLD! It took forever for them to take our order, food was sub-par, and it smelled like old bacon and smoke, keepin it real up here in Alaska!
* Danny has honed his Ansel Adams skills and taken some awesome pics of the wildlife/nature we have seen
* I smashed my camera on one of our hikes
* Danny is currently winning the race to more tips because he is really good at telling bad jokes
* We packed up our neat-o new packs and hiked a couple miles out, set up camp, slept in our tent, spent the next day climing a peak watching caribou and an eagle swoop around over our heads, and felt quite hardcore

On an entirely different note, about a month ago I started reading the novel, Reading Lolita in the Tehran, by Azar Nafisi and it has not only reminded me how much I love literature and how important it is but it raised my interest and awareness to life in Iran during the revolution of the late 70's early 80's. Interestingly enough all of the current happenings in Iran are a direct consequence of the change of regime that happened then and this author that was so insightful to me was on CNN a few nights ago talking about the current situation in Iran. She was articulate and gracious as she tried to explain to an audience of people so habituated to individualism, self proported creativity and openness how quickly a society can choose to give up choice , often in the name of God. I don't claim to understand or get exactly whats going on but my heart has been going out to the people there, especially the women protesting for the freedom of basic human rights. If you get a chance, give this book a look. I've been trying to remember to be grateful for the choices I have, to live where is choose, dress in a way that is comfortable to me, read, watch, and say what I please, marry or not marry whomever I want, etc. You've heard it all before and it is so far away but this is where my thoughts have been as of late.

I Work At A Senior Citizen's Summer Camp

2009-06-01T00:01:00.005-06:00

Sour looking man, looking Betsy up and down as he follows a line of people getting off the train and onto her bus:
"We got ourselves a lady driver?"

Betsy, immediately feeling defensive: "Well you've got me unless you want to walk"

Man, stopping the line and irritating everyone behind him: "Did you remember to check the transmission?"

Betsy, in a high voice: "Whats a transmission?"

Man, getting a little sparkle in his eye: "Oh thats smart, I do have a question for you before I get on your bus"

Betsy, tired of answering questions for old men getting on her bus: "And whats that sir?"

Man, gearing up for a good one: "Whats the difference between a brunette and a garbage can?"

Betsy: "I bet your gonna tell me"

Man, already proud of himself: "The garbage can gets taken out at least twice a week".....

and up he goes.

by land, by sea... or by dog sled

2009-05-15T22:49:00.011-06:00

Before I can go on with this post with a good attitude I have got to get something off my chest. I just had a run in with the cafeteria nazi and he has left me in a seriously sour mood (or totally pissed off if I can really be honest).
So, first of all, I eat three meals a day out of a cafeteria, I will leave my complaints to myself because I know I was fully aware when I signed up. When you go into the cafeteria there is a big hand washing station with about, oh I don't know, thirty signs that say "Wash your hands before entering the cafeteria". I get that, germs, lots of people, fair. However, the water that comes out of the spout is about 45 degrees below (no, I am not exaggerating and yes, I know its weird that it can be that cold and not actually turn into ice) and after washing my hands the first 10 meals here I couldnt help but think that nothing was cleaner about my hands after putting them in arctic water, and the only thing accomplished was that I couldn't feel them for another 5 or 10 minutes.

Solution? The bathroom, right next door to the cafeteria has perfectly warm water. So what do I do? I go into the bathroom, wash my hands, and then come out to get my food. This evening I did as I explained and entered the cafeteria, grabbed my tray, and headed down to get a healthy helping of yesterdays pork.

Enter, little man with chefs hat and obnoxious accent:
"Um, excuse me."
I keep on walking toward that pork.
"EXCUSE ME."
I hear him, but I don't want to hear about washing my freaking hands.
"MISS EXCUSE ME YOU MUST WASH YOUR HANDS!"
I turn and very calmly state, "Look, I washed my hands in the bathroom."
I hold them up, "See, still wet."
"It does not matter, you must wash your hands or you can't eat."
"I'm sorry but the water is so..."
"YOU MUST WASH YOUR HANDS."
"But..."
"NO WASHING HANDS, NO FOOD."

Not that the pork was all that enticing but seriously? I just stare at him for a second, hands in the air, wet spots on my shirt, normal body temperature about to meet its plunging fate, waiting for it to register to him how ridiculous he sounds.
"YOU MUST WASH YOUR HANDS WHEN ENTERING THE CAFETERIA, YOU SEE THE SIGN?"
No, actually missed that, thanks for pointing it out.
Now that everyone in the vicinity is staring and Danny is energetically piling pork and beans onto his plate while heartily laughing at me, I give in. I'm not ok with it though. I went through my whole meal, not feeling my hands and plotting how I can get little cafeteria-power-trip-guy back... I think from now on I'll just fake the washing, haha jokes on him.

Wow, felt good to get out, now I can move on.

So anyway, in the last 5 days Danny and I have gone in and around Denali National Park on foot, in a van, on a bus (driving and riding), on a train, in a boat, in a small airplane, and on a dog sled. The scenery hasnt gotten old yet! Mt. McKinley (tallest mountain in North America, highest vertical rise in the world) poked its head out of the clouds while we were on the train and we poked our head through the clouds on a plane to get a glimpse of the summit and even saw about 10 climbers attempting to reach the top.

Here are pictures of each transportation adventure except a bus... funny enough its the only thing I didn't take a picture of this week.

Van - Exciting, I know

Foot - Me checking out some moose tracks and us hiking around near where we live

Dog Sled - Huskies! Ohhh, look at the puppy!

Boat - Jet Boat "Safari" Tour... though we didnt see any lions or zebras

Train!

Plane - Mt. McKinley

We spent a night at the McKinley lodge about 2 hours south of us and then we took the train all day to Fairbanks (normally about 2 hrs north of us) and spent the night there. Upon leaving Fairbanks Danny's bus internally combusted (shocking, eh?) or whatever you might call it and dumped all its transmission fluid on the ground, that proved to be quite a hold up and not all that good for the bus, surprisingly enough.

Today was take-off for driving buses with real passengers in them as the first train transporting guests arrived. Danny had a good start but I'll let him tell you about that. I didn't drive but I gave the little speal to the guests and am officially winning the race to more tips, any additional help would be appreciated.

Betsy Hoerman... its got a nice little ring to it

2009-05-09T20:42:00.009-06:00

So, the wedding happened, I'm a married woman now. I have to say that it was everything I could have ever dreamed of and more. Absolute downpour the whole day and the sky cleared for the hour and a half pictures were scheduled, my bridesmaids were gorgeous, desserts were scrumptious, my nephews pulled faces in all the pictures so they are bound to be cute, once we bailed and arrived at the Hilton we were upgraded to the two story pent house suite, oh yea, and Danny was pretty cool too. Then we were whisked away to the magical land of Denali National Park.

Today is our one week anniversary and we have already put in 50 hours of work since we got here! Its not all bad though, they made us drive a bus full of employees through the breathtaking interior of Alaska, we had to go on an ATV tour yesterday, tomorrow we have to go in a plane around the summit of Mt. McKinley, and Monday night we have no choice but to go on the big dome train about 4 hrs south to the Mt. McKinley lodge for an overnighter and ride the next day into Fairbanks and back. Pretty tough honeymoon so far.

We stay about 10 minutes north of the park in a town called Healy. We live in an old hotel/army barrack type place made out of wooden panel and tin with a hoppin' bar downstairs, plenty of interesting people to keep us laughing and a full size bed. There is a cool rec room with pool and ping pong and a library of romance novels that have kept many other Alaskans warm through the cold nights. We haven't really had any of our own time to go exploring but tomorrow is our first day off so we can go check it all out.

Its strange though, all the planning for the wedding and it was over so fast and now it feels like it was so long ago. I have not even had a 5 minute conversation with anyone but Danny to re-hash the whole thing and give it proper analysis. I have no idea how it went for anyone else. Maybe its better that way, it can just remain this perfect little moment in time. Sitting with Danny for a few minutes before we went in to be married had to of been the highlight of the day. We had a few mushy things to say to each other but mostly we sat there giggling and trying to be reverent even though I just wanted to jump up and down and release some of my excitement. Excitement to be marrying Danny, excitement to see all the people in the other room, excitement to start a new chapter in my life. I was so glad that I was there with Danny and that life has brought us, in a round about way, together. Not a bad twist to things.

dedicated to sarah

2009-04-22T16:19:00.010-06:00

full name: elizabeth ryan soon-to-be hoerman

birthdate: Oct. 12, 1983

birth place: seattle, wa

relationship status: engaged to danzor

religious views: i'm mormon so there you go

hair color: brown

eye color: greenish brown

height: 5'6

bff: stevie g

favorite school subject: best content of a class i ever took was by far american literary history, the teacher blew though, almost wrecked it for me

favorite vacation destination: grandma and grandpa's condo in palm springs

favorite food: chocolate

last movie i saw in theaters: slumdog millionaire, highly recommend it

favorite restaurant: denny's

favorite animal: giraffe, thats why i'm marrying danny, cause he's tall

favorite celebrity: leo, still love him since my colossal Titanic crush

describe yourself in one word: raw

biggest fear: living my life apathetically

biggest mistake: getting so worked up about things, numerous times

proudest accomplishment: graduating from byu, staying in provo was no small feat

#1 priority in your life: getting my crap together

dream job: travel writer

special talents: i can touch my nose with my tongue, dont ask how i discovered that

famous person you want to meet: dirk bowles

place to visit before you die: space

tag: danny, rachel, diane

Bus Driver Extraordinaire

2009-04-17T13:29:00.002-06:00

You were warned

As Of Late

2009-04-04T18:19:00.002-06:00

After quite the absence of blogging I am back. The last little bit has been eventful to say the least. Here's a quick run down

In the last 6 months I:
* Graduated from BYU and got the heck out of there
* Continued doing the exact same job making the exact same amount of money I was making before I graduated
* Spent lots of time with my family
* Survived a snowy winter
* Fell in love and got engaged (Big day = May 2nd, wahoo!)
* Got a job in Alaska for the summer
* Passed my bus driver test and got an official Commercial's Drivers License
* Learned that if you're not in school and your employer doesn't offer healthcare, you should pray you don't get sick cause you are kinda screwed
* As the poem below indicates, started doing Yoga and am loving it
* Have turned into the budget wedding planner extraordinaire (if you've got any tips let me know)
* Sold my car, it was time
* Have sort of dropped out of contact with lots of people I love on account of business and have resolved to fix it
* Read 2 books on bear attacks and developed a phobia that may keep me in my cabin in Alaska
* Feel happy about where I am in my life, grateful for the people in it, and hopeful that all the curbs I've hit in bus driver training are not an indicator that I might take a bus load of people over the mountainside in Denali National Park

On Braving Yoga Class

2009-04-04T18:00:00.003-06:00

All in the name of energy and centeredness
I sheepishly peak my head into the salty Yoga room
for the third time,
finally walking my black stretch pants in.
Looking around, pretending I've been here before I see others remove their shoes,
I remove my shoes.
Dark haired girl in the front finds a mat and black block from a hidden closet,
I get a mat and a block.
Lights dim, chimes arise from the grill of the speakers and I sit.

Find your hidden cobra,
I wiggle over on my stomach looking to my left and my right.
Leap into down dog,
Drop into up dog,
Counter-intuitive but I'm willing to try, butt in the air, feet sliding off the mat.

Rolling, stretching, breathing,
feeling happy I don't breath as loud as baldy over in the corner with his short shorts and tube socks.
Focus Betsy, he can breath as loud as he pleases,
In this place there is freedom.
In this place I breath.

i just want someone to say to me i'll always be there when you wake

2008-11-03T18:49:00.013-07:00

I may not have had tap shoes but all in all the Howl was a definite success. We never actually made it inside due to the excruciating long line and pricey entrance fee but we saw male Hooters waitresses with extremely large gazungas, male cheerleaders, male prostitutes, lots of male legs... I thought everyone warned me about the skanky girls? Its ok though, we had Michael Phelps with us so we didn't feel out of place.

H-A-L-L-O-W-E-E-N spells halloween

2008-10-29T00:08:00.006-06:00

2008 Jack-o-lantern contest is on. Please go to Danny's blog (http://dannyhoerman.blogspot.com/) to vote on the best pumpkin and just remember, what is cooler: a pumpkin eating another pumpkin or an asian jack sparrow? Go Cougs

UNICEF

2008-10-14T14:57:00.007-06:00

Well, it was a success! We raised enough money to pay for 600 Measles Vaccines for kids around the world and taught my uncle how to play Guitar Hero. Go us!

Birthday Time

2008-09-30T15:17:00.008-06:00

Yep, my birthday is coming. 25. Rachel tells me the amount of gray hair growth has obviously increased since turning 25 last August and Julia says she woke up on the day of her big 25 to dark Seattle rain and has not recovered since. Sounds fun, right? While I am trying not to feel bad that at 25 I'm still working on my undergrad, not yet written a best selling book or even a decent poem and (no matter how optimistic I have been) the world hunger thing is still an issue, I am going to welcome 25 with open arms.

There has been some great Betsy Bday parties through the years: the hay maze at the pig farm when I turned 6,

Skate King extravaganza at 8,

sweet 16 lady luncheon... And now, the Unicef 25!

I've been thinking a lot lately about what I can be doing now, before I have much cash or time or influence, to make some small dent in the issues that the world is facing. In my small amount of traveling I've seen poverty and hopelessness as well as resilience and goodwill. Call me self centered but I do believe that one person can make a difference. I do think that poor college students can do something. The Unicef club at BYU has been busy fundraising and trying to get the word out about some of the stuff that Unicef is doing and I think it is great.

So, I'm having a dual purpose event at my place on Oct 11 - Help me feel happy about turning 25 and raise a little money and hopefully a bit more awareness about some of the things that Unicef is doing. Please come. Even if you don't have any money to contribute still come, read some of the info that will be there, think about it, and then battle Nancy at Dance Dance Revolution (she's unbeatable), eat a burger, and hang out.

Saturday Oct 11 - 7:30pm
Foxwood II apts
840 N. 100 W. #12 in Provo

I can't wait to see you!

Jiffy Lube

2008-09-09T09:10:00.001-06:00

So, as fate would have it, me and the Jiffy Lube guy have spent some quality time together this week. He’s probably about 27 yrs old and a real loud mouth. You know the kind, loves to explain anything and everything to anyone that will listen. Well anyway, the registration was up and it took me three different trips there plus a run to visit Eduardo up at Auto 1 and a visit to Ogden, a couple hundred dollars and two registration expired tickets to get my car (hopefully) up to par to pass safety and emissions. Yesterday felt a bit like judgment day as I sat in the Jiffy Lube waiting room waiting to see if they would pass my car.

I showed up after a long day of work and school about an hour before closing, plenty of time right? All they had to do was say, yes you did in fact replace your windshield and, yes you sure did get some new dust boots on those upper ball joints. However, an hour later I was still sitting there.

The first time I went into Jiffy Lube about a week ago I tried to muster up all the feminine powers that apparently I don’t hold to get my new friend to pass my car. I smiled real big and acted oblivious and even offered to get the guy some dinner while he worked on my car. I know, why don’t I just sell out and become that girl at the drop of a dime? Well, desperate times call for desperate measures, I am totally broke. While he joked back he was not budging. Whatever, I can deal with that.

So now here we are a week later, me and him. The difference now, though, is that I am tired, hungry, and had learned more about upper ball joints in the past week than I would ever like to know and am positive that my car should pass. After about an hour sitting there I got up and flagged my friend down to see what was taking so long. Oops! They had pulled my car to the side and helped the six people who had come after me. They’ll get to it right away. But anyway, so you a student? Oh yea, what you studying? English eh? We’ve got a Lois Lane on our hands, I bet you are a real good writer.

Umm, what? Here I am in this greasy garage with Jiffy Lube guy leaning up against the tool shelf smiling down at me trying to make small talk and calling me Lois Lane after he wouldn’t pick up the bait last week. Perhaps I had missed something, but really? I politely smiled and tried to muster up a semi-girly laugh so he would remember that the green Honda Accord was on track to pass and turned around and went back into the waiting room.

A few minutes later he came back in with the news that I had, in fact, passed the safety and emissions test. Hallelujah! At this point I was ready to pay whatever it is I needed to to get that dumb ’09 sticker and be on my way. Jiffy Lube man takes his sweet time explaining to me about the taxes I can pay there instead of going to the DMV bla bla bla and I’m like, yea yea okay whatever here’s my credit card. The deal is done and he follows me out to my car and starts again with the small talk.

So I’m standing there car done and paid for standing with one foot in the drivers side and this guy starts telling me how good he is at English. “Yea, I mean, I am great at English. I could probably do English, you know? My wife, man, she’s from Mexico, and she’s always screwin it up. I’m always like, hell that’s not how you say it, and then I correct her. Again and again with the same mistakes I don’t know why she won’t catch on. I know grammar so well I always tell her about it but she just won’t listen.”

Not knowing exactly how to respond to that I quickly agree that that’s rough, good luck with the Mexican wife and everything and get in my car and get out of there.

i reckon my feet know where they want me to go...

2008-08-06T14:31:00.000-06:00

Driving up to Salt Lake yesterday I was so into singing along with the CD playing that I spaced on my exit. When I realized I was about to pass it I tried to cut in front of a big brown RV that was not havin it so I slowed way down, cut across a few lanes, received some honks and middle fingers and made it safely off the freeway. What was I listening to? James Taylor. Why was I so into his sweet tunes? Because I was on my way to meet up with the rest of the Ryan clan who can hear or are not on a mission to go to the James Taylor concert.

I would like to take a moment to tell you why he is so awesome. Concert is supposed to start at 8 so we figure someone would open for him and we'd hang out and he might show up around 9 or so. However, having the time nazi for a father we were in our seats at about 7:45. We were just talking and I was taking awkward pictures of Scotty who had just taken 2 Vicodin for a migraine when a couple people in the front row gave a little squeal. I look up and amidst all the sound/stage guys and back up singers who were wandering around the stage is the man himself, James Taylor. In a blue striped T-shirt and a pair of jeans he walked around and greeted all his equipment guys while the audience kept on talking to one another. Eventually he sauntered over to his guitar and pulled up a stool and just started playing. People started to clue in and cheer and the band eventually got all set-up and joined him but he didn't seem to care either way; slight contrast from The Cure concert I went to a couple months ago.

He started his set playing some cover songs. Glenn Campbell, George Jones, Buddy Holly, and even some Dixie Chicks all the while his 55ish year old overweight buddy with shoulder length blond/grey hair sang back up and bounced around on one of the back platforms singing along with him and playing the occasional air-guitar as his polka dotted green tie flipped up and down. My dad said the guy had been singing with him for about thirty years. The drummer took a swig of his beer between each song and James Taylor (I just can't bring myself to separate his first and last name)cracked jokes about him throughout the show. A potentially amateur atmosphere quickly turned into an unpretentious exhibit of some of the greatest talent I have ever had the chance to hear.

The greatest part of the night for me had to be the comments that my mom giggled out throughout the show however. In the middle of Carolina she turns to me and says in true Tursh fashion, "Ohhhh this takes me right back to Heritage Halls!" And after Steam Roller, "Oh wow he didn't sing the mother f'er word!" With her pastel plaid button up shirt, capris, and red crocodile shoes with socks she bobbed her head and clapped along with the best of us.

I don't usually blog about the stuff I do but I was blown away last night. I love James Taylor because my dad used to sit at the end of my bed and play his stuff on the guitar for hours and hours. When I was about 16 yrs old he got really irritated with me for messing around with his guitar one day and said that it was his best friend and he didn't know what he would do without it. I thought he was being over dramatic but there is something about a soft, pure melody on an acoustic guitar and James Taylor has that figured out. He didn't play Blossom for me last night but I can forgive him because he played "Oh What A Beautiful Morning" from Oklahoma and because the show was amazing.

new club

2008-07-01T12:46:00.002-06:00

Nate: lets start a new facebook group. I vote we call it attractive smart and funny folks who will be more ready for marriage than expected. A pox on all your houses and a shrug and a sigh for all you teenage brides and you boys and your nascent nametaglessness. Maybe your lives are real but they seem mystical to us. Are you happy? Maybe. Would we be in your shoes? Maybe. Do we know what we're missing? Maybe. Do you know what your missing? No. Who are these people anyway... Then she looked at me and I looked at her and we both know... we were 17...
Betsy, we must have had three daughters and given them everything.

Betsy: Or, maybe we should just get married and make a facebook group about the bliss and the endless hours of people listening and secretly aching for their somebody as we talk about fate and the forces that brought us together and how we are eternally grateful for that silly vent and how I can't help but laugh when i think about how much it creeped me out when you started yelling at me and i couldn't find where your voice was coming from and you chuckle and stroke my hair and gaze into my eyes as you tell people how cute you thought I was and how you just couldn't stay away from your friends place because you couldn't stand to sleep anywhere else except for the couch right below where you knew I was. Then they'll know that we've joined the ranks of the blessed and that now we could live out the rest of our lives giving each other rub downs in sacrament meeting and searching for more venues to tell our obnoxiously gaggy story and slightly fake disregard for any heartache or annoyance or moment of compromise or unsurety that surely didn't happen to us because our course was set long before we even came to earth and all we had to do was find each other... which we did with stealthness.

ohhhhhhhh, cute, is how they will respond and my heart will fill with warmth and I will know that I have made it.

Diner at Midnight

2008-06-01T21:57:00.000-06:00

Apathy slowly encompassed her as she nonchalantly stirred the ice in the empty glass in front of her with the tip of her straw. Every few minutes she pressed the rim of the glass to her lips to catch an ice cube to chew on, thinking about how so few customers must make it hard to see the need of a refill.

The world kept turning and bad days turn into good ones, she knew.

At least she wasn’t on her feet, eight months pregnant, trying to pay for future pacifiers and car seats, she thought as she watched Grace try to please a table full of obnoxious teenage boys.

The refill comes with a crooked smile and a brown tint. She begins to sip and finds that she preferred the ice.

At least she wasn’t eighty still working the graveyard shift on Fridays nights. The guilt for her misery pressed down as she watched the hostess.

At least she wasn’t alone.

Was the tint in the water a reflection of the table or a reflection of the diner, she wondered as she drew in long sips trying to get to the ice quicker. As impatient neighbors hollered for their food she was glad that she didn’t care. Willy, the cook as she overheard, could take all the time in the world. If nothing else, that was what she had sitting in her hands along with the circling straw.

She watched as the ice melted, taking with it the key to her satisfaction.

Perhaps Willy would like to take a break and join her to sip on some murky water.

She closed her eyes, tilted her head back and took in a long slow breath. With the ice completely gone she was oddly at ease now that she didn’t really have to decide which she preferred.

Unleash The Thighs

2008-05-21T12:41:00.000-06:00

Well, its taken 24 years... no, actually there is a great picture of me when I'm about 3 strutting around in a one-piece with ruffles and a butt covered in sand. I didn't care then that my skin was 4 shades paler than everyone else's or notice that my thighs selfishly grab more than their fair share of the fat on my body. But shortly thereafter I began the maneuvering of bathing suits: endlessly searching for suits with shorts for the bottoms and buying them even though the tops were totally ugly, or finding board shorts to wear over the suit and being the uncomfortable fat girl who wears clothes to swim in. Well, I've had enough.

I am tired of having a sun burn that goes half way up my leg. I am sick of laying around in uncomfortable soggy cloth as I lay by the pool. I mark today as independence day for my white legs and not-so-small butt cheeks. I have officially bought a bathing suit with regular bottoms. Its time to stop caring that my inner thighs touch and rub together when I walk.

I have spent years fantasizing about the sexy bathing suits I would wear when I had tight abs and carved legs, or when my skin miraculously started getting tan. I could just see the sun bouncing off the oiled muscles in my calves as I walked around the pool. I would put on some of those big "I'm so hot there's no way I would ever even give you a chance" sunglasses and just lounge around in my hottness. But you know, I'm almost 25 and I still haven't gotten close to that body. I could have potentially passed my hot-peak and my butt still jiggles when I walk and I've never had that perfect tight crease in the cheeks right below the cut of a suit.
Damn that crease.

So, instead of crying about it, which the 15, 16, and 17 year old version of myself has actually wasted time doing, I've decided to shed the shorts and cellulite hiding wrap and smile at the girls with the strings holding their suits together as my thighs rub on my way around the pool. I can admire the brown tint of their skin and continue to hope that someday my freckles will completely connect so I too might look so good. For now, I'm gonna try to jump in and out of the pool with freedom and lay with both legs flat on my chaise lounge, I'll let you know how it goes.

Pantoum

2008-05-21T12:27:00.000-06:00

I don’t like you,
You should leave.
Why don’t we just go out?
You sure are cute.

You should leave.
Well, she told me that
You sure are cute.
I wish he’d call.

Well she told me that
He doesn’t care.
I wish he’d call.
That seems obvious.

He doesn’t care,
Why don’t we just go out?
That seems obvious
I don’t like you.

"It's Like, You Know, Pissing In the Wind."

2008-05-08T15:21:00.000-06:00

No, I don't know what its like
to piss into the wind.
I am a girl.
I sit down to pee, or squat
if there is no other option.

Grandma Dorothy

2008-05-07T17:58:00.000-06:00

“If there are two things I know for sure,”
you told me once with smiling eyes,
“They are that Jesus is the Christ and it will rain in Seattle!”
You always hated the grey skies.

Wall sized windows line the room
and look out at the jagged line of buildings
lining the bay during a soft sunset.

Safeco Field sits still with its roof pulled back
enjoying the rare moment of sunshine.

You would love this evening,
no hint of rain.

I look down on your face and close my hand
around yours.
And, though machines speak in their beeping language
that you are still here, I know you are not.

Your chest rises and falls, I touch it to feel your heart beat.
Sure enough, it is there
but you are not

because if you were, your fake pink nails would tap
on the plastic lining your bed.
Your feet would shuffle around the room
and we would yell at you to sit down.
You would smile at your nurse and crack a joke
with the man on the other side of the curtain
whom no one had come to visit.

When I ran from the airport into this stale smelling room
you would have met me at the door and pulled my face
down next to yours,
said my name five times in a high pitched voice
and squealed that no one had ever missed anyone
like you had missed me.
If you were here, your eyes would open
and you would squeeze my hand back.

“It’s time to turn off the machines
and let her go,” they say to me.

I kiss your cheek and whisper that I love you
even though I know those ears cannot carry
any messages to you
and that you already know anyway.

The beeping slows down,
my chest tightens
as yours stops moving.
It feels like the machines
force you to go.

I will blame it on those machines
even though your gnarled hands
would stubbornly grab on to the metal railing keeping you in this bed
and you would never choose to leave
if this lifeless form laying so still
were really you.

To My God, Shiva

2008-05-07T17:56:00.000-06:00

I walk briskly through mobs of people,
streets of cows, and try not to get hit
by a rickshaw so that I may worship my Goddess.

My Kurta pressed with close attention.
She will bestow on me money, happiness, children,
she will make me well.
I must hurry.

One hundred rupees for my flowers,
for Shiva’s flowers. As my Shiva
comes into full view I will stop.
I will breathe.

Stepping up her stairs I will brush the ground,
step, brush, step brush,
go down to my knees.

Her goodness fills me.
Her golden feet
guide me.
I hear sweet songs on the loud speaker,
red bricks permeate my feet
with warmth gathered from the sun.

I drop my rice at Shiva’s feet.
I will go so that I may see
Shiva’s hand make me well.

On Being the Fifth of Seven Children

2008-05-07T17:54:00.000-06:00

Like a squawking duck fighting
for a piece of bread tossed
by one lone pig-tailed girl,
I fought for attention from my mother.

The girl has only one slice,
twelve pieces.
The big Mallard in front will eat six ,
the slow one will get none.
I fight off two others
for a half-soggy piece I salvage and gulp down.

Does the girl notice that some are still hungry?

Here I Go!

2008-05-07T12:57:00.000-06:00

The blogging community seems to be where its at these days and I call myself a writer so why haven't I jumped in? I'm not quite sure what has kept me from putting myself out there but its about time I gave it a try. I want a place to put my poetry and stories up. I'm gonna start by putting up some recent stuff I have been working on.

2007-08-13T17:09:00.000-06:00

A Passing Glimpse
Robert Frost

I often see flowers from a passing car
That are gone before I can tell what they are.

I want to get out of the train and go back
To see what they were beside the track.

I name all the flowers I am sure they weren't;
Not fireweed loving where woods have burnt--

Not bluebells gracing a tunnel mouth--
Not lupine living on sand and drouth.

Was something brushed across my mind
That no one on earth will ever find?

Heaven gives its glimpses only to those
Not in position to look too close.