Hazel Eyes

My mom asked me to go for a drive with her today. This was out of character from this past week's behavior. Let's just say when I corrected her pronunciation of Milan, after she pronounced it meee-l'anne, she wouldn't speak to me the rest of the drive home from Nicoitalita's (a very fine pizza place). I asked her why she wanted to go on a drive. In past experience I've gone on a "drive" with her and ended up going to my Great Aunt Artis', who didn't hear 20 minutes of a conversation my mom had with her and had never met us before (or remembered doing so). My mom ran off the list of things she needed to do on this drive, mostly delivering bills, and I agreed to go with her. What the heck! 7.40 on a friday night. Life is pretty lame with school being out and working full time. I went.

Joseph made me a lovely cd of songs he's listening to, so I popped it in and started listening for about the 10th time today (they're really groovy). We got to "Hazel Eyes" by the Darkness. Let me just give 100 cool points to the Darkness for this Chinese/Scottish/80s rock/Queen sounding song. It's pretty much amazing. The lyrics, which are mostly inaudible, have this classic rock chorus "girl with the hazel eyes... ah ah ahahahahaha." (I'm not sure I can represent it in lyrical form, you'll have to give it a listen). I start track number 10, listen very carefully because my mom hates the music turned up. I have to fight with her anytime I want to hear a song. I've become used to my music having 1/200 lines on the volume indicator, and my mom's terrible version of "My Favorite Things" on at least 172.5. But, low and behold... my mom turned up the volume! On my music! This is extremely out of the ordinary. Not only that, she started rocking out and singing, "girl with the hazel eyes, ah ahahahahahah". I was scared to laugh for fear she might resort back to her, you make fun of me everyday comment. But, nothing. "It grows on you," she replied when I asked her if she liked it. I just chuckled to myself and sang along at the top of my lungs.

After the song finished I could see her fidgeting in her seat and looking at the cd player. "Do you want to hear it again?" I asked her. She nodded. So, we listened to it again. Anyone who hears this song once must hear it at least 2 more times in the same outing. We listened to it at least 4 more times on this trip. My world and day have completely changed.

My mom likes a song I like.

Thank you, the Darkness.

Nice Green Papers You Get While Speeding on the Interstate

The Day is December 26, 2005. Some know it as "Boxing Day," but I guess that's not super important. I had a family party, a little after Christmas get-together. Family parties have become one of those obligations that are awkward and usually spent trying to make decent conversation, perhaps a round of Apples to Apples somewhere in there. There's usually a lot of bad food and fake smiles. This party I made a breakthrough. I convinced my parents to let me leave on my own time, not make an entire day out of a lunch party. So my two younger siblings came along in my mom's car (her "baby"). There was a lot of, "Be careful. Obey the speed limit. Don't listen to your music too loudly" before I left.

The three of us hopped in the one car while my parents left at some other time in the other. We got to the party in good time, minus the fifteen minutes trying to figure out the address to my Aunt Anna-Clair's house, and eventually discovering the party was at my Uncle Daniel's. We still beat my parents. Well, games and food were fine, and we actually made a nice exit. So we were headed down the interstate making really good time. I always speed a little, because you have to to keep up with traffic and as sad as it is... who really goes the speed limit? But sometimes you have this notion something bad is going to happen. You're checking your rear mirror every few seconds, making sure there's nothing in front of you, to the side. Well, somehow I got caught up in a song that was playing. Next thing I know, I look up there's a sign for 55mph because of all the blasted interstate construction. Next, right by the sign there's a cop. Sitting there, waiting for unsuspecting, or maybe unexpecting, drivers to speed right by. I glance at the speedometer. Crap, I'm doing 85ish in 65, nearly 55. I slam on my breaks trying to reach a reasonable speed. His lights turn on. "That's not for me is it?" I ask Hillery. "I don't think so." I'm watching my rearview mirror. I'm not sure what he's doing. He follows me. "Crap." I pull to the side, changing lanes as quickly as possible. Sure enough, he follows. Somehow, waiting those seconds for him to get out of his car, hustle to the passenger window, and ask for my licence and registration are nerve wracking enough. He says, "Do you know why I pulled you over? You were going 83 in 65. I saw you slow down when you saw me. So you knew you were speeding." "But I honestly just saw the 55mph sign right before I saw you and slammed on my breaks because I didn't realize I was going that fast." "Ok. Well, I'm gonna go fill out this paper work." He takes his time, maybe 7 minutes of just sitting there complaining to my siblings. Hearing, "This sucks." repeatedly.

He comes back, "I wrote you down for 9 over. That's half of what you were doing. You'll have to go to traffic school, get in contact with the court. But your fee is the lowest you can have for speeding. Drive safe." Grrrrrrrrrrrrr. What do you say to that? Thank you? You have a nice day?" Just hit your steering wheel once he's out of earshot. Turn up the one song on your cd with profanity, still trying to edit the F-bomb, but instead turn it up (really on accident). Drive 55mph, which no one in the entire state of Utah has ever driven while in a construction zone. And think about how terrible your death will be when your parents find out. And how low your bank account will be once they take out the hundreds of dollars they'll pay the cop with who pulled you over.

I'm staring at the green half sheet of paper that says Lehi City Police Department, and announces my first misdemeanor, or the first one I've ever been caught doing. Sometimes life sucks. This is just another example of why.

Finals Week

Finals Week


He stumbled onto the 8th floor. Checked the sign as he walked through the door. Blue and green plaid, short sleeved shirt. And jeans that looked like his mother had purchased them. Slightly attractive, slightly confused. His little boy, big blue eyes barely open.

"I need to turn in this paper for professor Hartley."

"You can drop it in his box," I pointed. "Two doors down on the right. There are two boxes, his is the bottom."

He stumbled in the direction I pointed, "one, two..."

He stopped and turned around. I rolled my grey-green office chair back to see what happened.

"I'm really tired," he said as he turned to the left.

"It's on your right. There are boxes on the wall. His is the bottom one." After a few seconds pause, he turned around and scanned the wall. He turned left, looking down the hall further.

"Right there."

He somehow managed to put his paper in the box and staggered back toward the door.

"Have a nice afternoon!" he said, half way there.

"Thanks. You too." I smiled at 10.54 am.

"Think happy thoughts."

"Thanks. You too," I smiled.

He pushed the button the the elevator, mumbling to himself. When the red arrow pointed downwards, he touched the doors, and pulled the crack between them. They opened. He stepped on.

"Think happy thoughts."