My friend Erica recently told me to post on my blog "even if it's just photos of your new married life, but especially if it's funny stories about skinny dipping or something like that."
The truth is, I've been trying to write some new posts for a while. The last year and a half of my life has been full of excellent blogging material. First of all... I got married. I found a boy who liked me enough to hang out with me forever. So that was cool. Also, for most of 2012 I worked as a singer in a bar. This was so very out-of-character for me I don't even know how to start explaining it.
So maybe I should just start at the beginning. Or rather... at the end of my time in Utah. That was really where my life took some unexpected detours.
It was September 2011. I was living in Provo. The important things about my life at this time are as follows:
- I was working television which, considering that I majored in media production, was essentially my dream employment situation.
- I was in love with someone who was not in love with me (and I had a daily emotional roller coaster about it).
- I weighed 168 pounds, which isn't huge, but in the land of Provo Barbie dolls, I felt enormous.
It was a very strange time in my life and I couldn't help but feel like I wasn't really progressing. I felt like I was on a launching pad, waiting for lift off. Waiting...
...and waiting....
Then one day... I got laid off. I suddenly didn't have a job anymore. My contract with the TV company I was working for was not renewed. I called my mom from a gas station, probably cyring. She told me I could move home, if I wanted to.
I thought about it. I could probably get another TV job in Utah if I stayed. The industry out there is surprisingly happenin' and I was fairly well connected. And what would happen if I moved back in with my mom? That was probably pretty lame... But I kept thinking about that "launching pad" feeling...
Then I went home to my apartment and sat on the stairs, thinking about life. Something about losing my job felt right. Something about moving away felt freeing. Utah had been good to me, but had I drained the well? As I was sitting on my stairs, the boy I was pining after came by to borrow zip ties. He was building a go cart. Noticing my pensive, slightly depressed demeanor, he invited me to come test drive it with him. I, of course, accepted.
It was probably the most bittersweet go cart ride in history. As I sat, snuggled next to the boy I would never have, thinking about where I would end up, who I would be in a year, feeling the wind against my face, I said a quiet goodbye to Utah. Goodbye to my unhealthy relationship (or lack thereof...) with "go cart boy". Goodbye to job security and cold winters.
Then I went to Africa.
[Sidebar: I've been to many cool countries, mostly by inviting myself on other people's trips. A few months prior to my lack of employment, my grandpa told me he was going to Africa to visit some of my cousins. I promptly invited myself to go with him. He was a little suprised, but accepted my offer. We bought our tickets and made the arrangements. Then, a week before the trip, my grandpa called to tell me that grandma was too frail for the trip so they weren't going anymore. I now had a ticket to Africa and was going alone.]
Friday, July 19, 2013
Monday, March 26, 2012
Dating, part II: Twin Cousins and The Widower
On Sundays, my mother and I go visit my aunt Patricia and her family. They are: Patricia, Uncle Dave, and cousins Henry, Ava and Audrey. Henry is 15. Ava and Audrey are identical twins and they are twelve.
A few Sundays ago Ava and Audrey said this, "Asia, we need to get you an eHarmony account."
This was perplexing. No, I've never really been a dating wizard (is that a thing?), but I've been doing ok lately when it comes to men... right? I guess it depends on what standard is used to measure. By my standards, if someone under the age of 40 smiles at me and has at least 80% of their teeth, I'm doing pretty good. By Ava and Audrey's standards, I need a boyfriend. Bad.
At this point, Aunt Patricia chimed in with a, "They probably have dating sites just for Mormons, right?" Then it was Mom's turn to give her 2 cents, "Yes. It's called LDSsingles.com."
Within about one second, Ava and Audrey were over on the computer typing in the URL. They made me a username and password (I'm not even sure I know what the password is), then got to work building my online dating profile. It was all quite enterprising how fast they were able to do this.
In the process, they found a crazy long survey. It was 16 pages long and asked a lot of questions about my sense of humor, my cleanliness, and my feelings on sex. For each question, my cousins would shout out the query and either fill in whatever answer they felt was most fitting or they would probe me to answer it myself. When the questions about sex came up though, they would whisper the 'S' word quickly and try to move on from the question in a brisk, but professional manner.
They enjoyed answering the questions on my cleanliness, because they think it's wildly hilarious that my room is often in various stages of disarray. And they were very generous when it came to my sense of humor. According to LDSsingles.com, I'm the funniest person on the planet and I know it. Top marks on all questions about that. I'm also kind of outdoorsy and physically adept. The online dating profile version of me (as seen through 2 rather cheeky 12 year old girls) is pretty awesome.
One thing the girls could not fathom, however, was my willingness to date a divorcee. I've got to say, I hadn't ever really given it much thought until there were 30 questions about whether or not I'd be willing to date a single dad, be a stepmom or marry someone who had been married before. I told Ava and Audrey to put that I was open minded and willing to be exposed to these opportunities. They were aghast. "I would put no!" "You would date a divorced guy??" I shrugged. They simply couldn't believe it, but they put in my answers anyway.
Throughout the long process of answering these questions, my other cousin, Henry kept coming into the room and asking me if I wanted to play Super Smash Brothers Brawl with him on his Wii. The girls would send him away, telling him that we had work to do. After the 400th question about what I feel my best physical feature is, I decided that the girls could be trusted to finish the survey while I played Wii from a safe distance.
Henry and I went into the Civil War Room to set up the game. My uncle is HUGELY into the Civil War and thus has a room dedicated to it. It just also happens to be where Metaknight battles Link and Pikachu in 0 gravity.
Henry gave me a Wii controller and set up our two-player brawl. I picked a character that I thought looked cute and before I knew it, we were on a platform in space, trying to kill each other. I've never been very good at video games (except for the guitar on Rock Band) so naturally, I just pushed all of the buttons as fast as I could and watched to see what would happen. This is what I used to do when I would play Street Fighter with my brothers. It's an age-old technique. The theory is, pushing all the buttons gives me a higher probability of causing damage to Henry's character. Henry was playing as Jigglypuff, and I played as 2 alarmingly cute eskimos. Alarmingly cute and alarmingly terrible at Super Smash Brothers Brawl. At some point while playing, Henry asked, "You have no idea what you're doing, do you?" I pushed a bunch more buttons before responding. The eskimos did something cool with a lasso before walking off a cliff to their death. "Nope."
It was at this point that Ava came in, bearing brilliant news.
"Asia! We found you the perfect match! He lives in Daytona and he's 28. He's got two kids, but don't worry. It's not because he's divorced. His wife is dead."
She was so pleased that she had found me a non-divorced mate who lived within 100 miles, I had to indulge her by at least looking at his photo. He looked like a nice Floridian widower that probably had lots to offer whatever girl he was potentially going to connect with. The site gave us the option to message him or to "flirt". We were intrigued and confused by the idea of digitally flirting with him, so we clicked to see what would happen. Well, as it turns out, you have to pay $8.99 or something to flirt or message anyone on LDSsingles.com. Ava told me I should spring for the premium account for maximum exposure. But as I was unwilling to pay for the ability to flirt and she certainly wasn't springing the cash, we reached an impasse.
I saw them again last Sunday and they asked me if I had been online to review my matches. I told them that I hadn't, then distracted them by suggesting we play HORSE in the driveway. Henry beat everyone at that too. What a pain to be excellent at everything.
A few Sundays ago Ava and Audrey said this, "Asia, we need to get you an eHarmony account."
This was perplexing. No, I've never really been a dating wizard (is that a thing?), but I've been doing ok lately when it comes to men... right? I guess it depends on what standard is used to measure. By my standards, if someone under the age of 40 smiles at me and has at least 80% of their teeth, I'm doing pretty good. By Ava and Audrey's standards, I need a boyfriend. Bad.
At this point, Aunt Patricia chimed in with a, "They probably have dating sites just for Mormons, right?" Then it was Mom's turn to give her 2 cents, "Yes. It's called LDSsingles.com."
Within about one second, Ava and Audrey were over on the computer typing in the URL. They made me a username and password (I'm not even sure I know what the password is), then got to work building my online dating profile. It was all quite enterprising how fast they were able to do this.
In the process, they found a crazy long survey. It was 16 pages long and asked a lot of questions about my sense of humor, my cleanliness, and my feelings on sex. For each question, my cousins would shout out the query and either fill in whatever answer they felt was most fitting or they would probe me to answer it myself. When the questions about sex came up though, they would whisper the 'S' word quickly and try to move on from the question in a brisk, but professional manner.
They enjoyed answering the questions on my cleanliness, because they think it's wildly hilarious that my room is often in various stages of disarray. And they were very generous when it came to my sense of humor. According to LDSsingles.com, I'm the funniest person on the planet and I know it. Top marks on all questions about that. I'm also kind of outdoorsy and physically adept. The online dating profile version of me (as seen through 2 rather cheeky 12 year old girls) is pretty awesome.
One thing the girls could not fathom, however, was my willingness to date a divorcee. I've got to say, I hadn't ever really given it much thought until there were 30 questions about whether or not I'd be willing to date a single dad, be a stepmom or marry someone who had been married before. I told Ava and Audrey to put that I was open minded and willing to be exposed to these opportunities. They were aghast. "I would put no!" "You would date a divorced guy??" I shrugged. They simply couldn't believe it, but they put in my answers anyway.
Throughout the long process of answering these questions, my other cousin, Henry kept coming into the room and asking me if I wanted to play Super Smash Brothers Brawl with him on his Wii. The girls would send him away, telling him that we had work to do. After the 400th question about what I feel my best physical feature is, I decided that the girls could be trusted to finish the survey while I played Wii from a safe distance.
Henry and I went into the Civil War Room to set up the game. My uncle is HUGELY into the Civil War and thus has a room dedicated to it. It just also happens to be where Metaknight battles Link and Pikachu in 0 gravity.
Henry gave me a Wii controller and set up our two-player brawl. I picked a character that I thought looked cute and before I knew it, we were on a platform in space, trying to kill each other. I've never been very good at video games (except for the guitar on Rock Band) so naturally, I just pushed all of the buttons as fast as I could and watched to see what would happen. This is what I used to do when I would play Street Fighter with my brothers. It's an age-old technique. The theory is, pushing all the buttons gives me a higher probability of causing damage to Henry's character. Henry was playing as Jigglypuff, and I played as 2 alarmingly cute eskimos. Alarmingly cute and alarmingly terrible at Super Smash Brothers Brawl. At some point while playing, Henry asked, "You have no idea what you're doing, do you?" I pushed a bunch more buttons before responding. The eskimos did something cool with a lasso before walking off a cliff to their death. "Nope."
It was at this point that Ava came in, bearing brilliant news.
"Asia! We found you the perfect match! He lives in Daytona and he's 28. He's got two kids, but don't worry. It's not because he's divorced. His wife is dead."
She was so pleased that she had found me a non-divorced mate who lived within 100 miles, I had to indulge her by at least looking at his photo. He looked like a nice Floridian widower that probably had lots to offer whatever girl he was potentially going to connect with. The site gave us the option to message him or to "flirt". We were intrigued and confused by the idea of digitally flirting with him, so we clicked to see what would happen. Well, as it turns out, you have to pay $8.99 or something to flirt or message anyone on LDSsingles.com. Ava told me I should spring for the premium account for maximum exposure. But as I was unwilling to pay for the ability to flirt and she certainly wasn't springing the cash, we reached an impasse.
I saw them again last Sunday and they asked me if I had been online to review my matches. I told them that I hadn't, then distracted them by suggesting we play HORSE in the driveway. Henry beat everyone at that too. What a pain to be excellent at everything.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Skinny Dipping
What I'm about to tell you is a true story. It was, quite possibly, the funniest moment of my life. In fact, I was laughing so hard that I was having trouble removing my pants to jump into the murky waters of Utah Lake. But I'm getting ahead of myself. It all started at a Cinnamon Roll contest.
One rather temperate evening in the land of Provo, Utah, there was a Cinnamon Roll contest at my neighbor's apartment. I, along with a few of my friends, had been asked to be a judge in this contest. Being a fan of cinnamon rolls and random contests, I accepted. The contest was delicious and turned out to be more of a party than a formal competition. Kind of like a cocktail party, but subtract the alcohol and add a bit of butter. I sampled the various plates and made the careful decision that cinnamon roll #2 was the most delicious. #1 was a little dry and #3 tasted like straight-up butter. After casting my vote, I sat on a comfy couch and chatted with some friends that were also in attendance. Enter Bree.
Bree is that friend that everyone needs. The friend that stretches you and challenges you to do things you previously wouldn't have considered. Bree is the renegade. The guts. The glory.
Also at the party was Sarah. Sarah is very driven. Good student, hard worker, has a good serious face. But wait! There's more! She also knows how to party hard and is one of my favorite people to dance party with. Let's put it this way... I met Sarah when I was dating her brother. Once the relationship ended, the boy was long gone, but Sarah and I? We knew we were meant to be. Friends.
The girl who completed the foursome this fateful night was Hannah. Hannah was my roommate and altogether one of my favorite people. She was slightly more daring and slightly more brunette than me, but it was our similar "Sure. Whatev." attitudes that made us part of this crazy expedition.
So there we were. Judging cinnamon rolls. Talking about Ke$ha. When I said, "Hey let's do something crazy tonight." And Bree said, "Let's go skinny dipping." We all looked at each other with calculated glances. Then, with one communal shrug, got up and went back to my apartment to prepare.
It's important to note that, throughout the whole night, my expectations and what was actually happening were at odds. For example, this was my initial thought process:
Asia's Expectations: OK. Skinny dipping... So... I should bring a swim suit and a towel. But just for appearances. We probably won't even really find a spot to swim so what will happen is that we will drive around and have a good laugh.
What was actually happening: We were going skinny dipping.
My "swim suit" thought was abolished pretty quickly when I asked Bree, "Hey, should I bring a swim suit?" and received a, "No, Asia. We're going skinny dipping."
Before too long, we were loaded into my Jeep. Four girls, four towels, Miley Cyrus's "Can't Be Tamed" on full blast and a half-baked plan. After much debate and not very many good ideas, we decided that the only idea we had was to try Utah Lake, the notoriously filthy body of water just west of Provo.
We headed west on Center Street all the way until it ended at the gates of Utah Lake State Park. Wait. Gates? It was gated. And the gate only opened with a code. We pulled over to the side of the road in order to replan. We turned down Miley Cyrus only slightly in order to debate our next move. It just so happened that as we were pulled over, an RV pulled up to the gate. A dude got out, typed in the code, and lo, the gate opened. After one second of deliberation, we followed behind him as closely as possible to make it in before the gate closed. Mission accomplished.
We were in. And, man, was Utah Lake State Park happenin'. There were people everywhere. Night fishing, camping, family outing-ing, bonfire-ing, playing guitar. It was daunting. Especially if you're looking for a nice, secluded area to strip down and jump in the lake. After a bit of exploring and several nixed ideas, we came upon some private docks. These were docks with doors on them. I just tried googling this so you can see a picture, but I guess google has never heard of it... Basically, some people had mounted a door frame with a door in it on their dock. These doors were generally locked. I say generally because...
We wandered over to the private docks. They were kind-of secluded. There were people fishing to the left and partying to the right, but we judged that they were at a safe-enough distance and that it was dark-enough that, likely, we were ok. We tried the door on the first dock. Locked. We tried the door on the second. It opened.
Pause. Let's check on Asia's expectations.
Asia's Expectations: Oh my gosh. We actually found a spot. Ok, so... we'll probably just sit on the dock and talk. Or, if Bree is feeling especially dedicated to the cause, we'll go swimming in our underwear. What a laugh!
What was actually happening: We were going skinny dipping.
We walked out on the dock, closing the door behind us. We made a few remarks about how our secluded spot was only really semi-secluded and we could, potentially, get caught at any moment. It's important to note that my expectations, starting now, changed in rapid succession.
As if someone blew the "ready, go!" whistle, Bree started taking off her clothes. Sarah and Hannah took note of this and began to quickly follow. My mind was blown. Never, in my wildest dreams, did I think we would be taking our crazy plan this far. So I did what any super uncomfortable person would do. I began to laugh like crazy. As I cackled like a mad man, I began taking off my shirt, but was so unfocused about it that I really did look a little crazy, struggling to get out of my own clothes. Then I heard Bree say, "Asia! You're being so loud! People are going to hear you and come over here! And take off your pants already!" I snapped back to reality and finished disrobing. Then, we were all standing there in our undies.
We debated briefly (teehee) about whether or not to just swim in our underwear, but once the notorious filth of the water was factored in... As if another whistle had been blown, the underwear came off too.
Asia's Expectations: Ohmygosh ohmygosh ohmygosh. We're naked on someone's private dock. Like naked naked. And there are people all around. Oh my gosh. We're skinny dipping.
What's actually happening: Yep. Now you get it.
We found a spot on the dock that didn't have boats attached to it and looked over into the dark water below. SPLASH! Bree jumped in. The water looked plenty deep and she claimed that it was cold, but not freezing. We looked down at her with envy and surprise, then concern. The distance from the dock down into the water was further than anticipated. Bree quickly discovered that she wasn't going to be able to get out of the water without help from two of us standing on the dock.
And thus it was decided that we needed to skinny dip in shifts of two. First up would be Bree and Sarah. Then after we pulled them out, Hannah and I would jump in. This, of course, was poor planning because Bree and Sarah are very petite and Hannah and I each had about 4 inches on them. But thinking wasn't our strong suit as we were standing nude on a dock. Oh and also we were illegally in the park. Remember that?
Sarah jumped in and after about 30 seconds of being in the water, it was decided that their shift was over. It was just enough time for Sarah to agree with Bree about how cold and deep the water was. Hannah and I offered our hands and arms and we, quite un-attractively, helped the girls clamber out of the water.
Then it was our turn. Hannah and I jumped in. It felt nice to have my body concealed in the water. Pretty quickly, it was decided that our turn, too, was up and we needed to head back. One of the highlights of the evening was when Hannah said, "But aren't we supposed to swim around and enjoy ourselves or something?" And Bree responded with a caustic, "There's no time for that! Get out!" We laboriously climbed out of the water and got back on the dock.
We had done it. We had skinny dipped. And it was, quite possibly, the most awkward, ungraceful, artless, almost public skinny dipping in history, but it was unbelievably fun and unbelievably funny. It reminded me nothing of Nightswimming by REM.
As we put our clothes back on, someone decided that it would be funny to leave a pair of underwear on the dock. A calling card. Just to raise a few eyebrows. To leave our mark on this dock for whoever to find. After an inventory of who was most willing to give up their underwear, I took one for the team. And that's how my underwear ended up on some dude's dock.
A few weeks later, Sarah and I would be reminiscing about our eventful evening. "Hey, wanna do something this weekend?" I asked. Sarah smiled. "Yeah. And bring Bree. That girl is crazy."
One rather temperate evening in the land of Provo, Utah, there was a Cinnamon Roll contest at my neighbor's apartment. I, along with a few of my friends, had been asked to be a judge in this contest. Being a fan of cinnamon rolls and random contests, I accepted. The contest was delicious and turned out to be more of a party than a formal competition. Kind of like a cocktail party, but subtract the alcohol and add a bit of butter. I sampled the various plates and made the careful decision that cinnamon roll #2 was the most delicious. #1 was a little dry and #3 tasted like straight-up butter. After casting my vote, I sat on a comfy couch and chatted with some friends that were also in attendance. Enter Bree.
Bree is that friend that everyone needs. The friend that stretches you and challenges you to do things you previously wouldn't have considered. Bree is the renegade. The guts. The glory.
Also at the party was Sarah. Sarah is very driven. Good student, hard worker, has a good serious face. But wait! There's more! She also knows how to party hard and is one of my favorite people to dance party with. Let's put it this way... I met Sarah when I was dating her brother. Once the relationship ended, the boy was long gone, but Sarah and I? We knew we were meant to be. Friends.
The girl who completed the foursome this fateful night was Hannah. Hannah was my roommate and altogether one of my favorite people. She was slightly more daring and slightly more brunette than me, but it was our similar "Sure. Whatev." attitudes that made us part of this crazy expedition.
So there we were. Judging cinnamon rolls. Talking about Ke$ha. When I said, "Hey let's do something crazy tonight." And Bree said, "Let's go skinny dipping." We all looked at each other with calculated glances. Then, with one communal shrug, got up and went back to my apartment to prepare.
It's important to note that, throughout the whole night, my expectations and what was actually happening were at odds. For example, this was my initial thought process:
Asia's Expectations: OK. Skinny dipping... So... I should bring a swim suit and a towel. But just for appearances. We probably won't even really find a spot to swim so what will happen is that we will drive around and have a good laugh.
What was actually happening: We were going skinny dipping.
My "swim suit" thought was abolished pretty quickly when I asked Bree, "Hey, should I bring a swim suit?" and received a, "No, Asia. We're going skinny dipping."
Before too long, we were loaded into my Jeep. Four girls, four towels, Miley Cyrus's "Can't Be Tamed" on full blast and a half-baked plan. After much debate and not very many good ideas, we decided that the only idea we had was to try Utah Lake, the notoriously filthy body of water just west of Provo.
We headed west on Center Street all the way until it ended at the gates of Utah Lake State Park. Wait. Gates? It was gated. And the gate only opened with a code. We pulled over to the side of the road in order to replan. We turned down Miley Cyrus only slightly in order to debate our next move. It just so happened that as we were pulled over, an RV pulled up to the gate. A dude got out, typed in the code, and lo, the gate opened. After one second of deliberation, we followed behind him as closely as possible to make it in before the gate closed. Mission accomplished.
We were in. And, man, was Utah Lake State Park happenin'. There were people everywhere. Night fishing, camping, family outing-ing, bonfire-ing, playing guitar. It was daunting. Especially if you're looking for a nice, secluded area to strip down and jump in the lake. After a bit of exploring and several nixed ideas, we came upon some private docks. These were docks with doors on them. I just tried googling this so you can see a picture, but I guess google has never heard of it... Basically, some people had mounted a door frame with a door in it on their dock. These doors were generally locked. I say generally because...
We wandered over to the private docks. They were kind-of secluded. There were people fishing to the left and partying to the right, but we judged that they were at a safe-enough distance and that it was dark-enough that, likely, we were ok. We tried the door on the first dock. Locked. We tried the door on the second. It opened.
Pause. Let's check on Asia's expectations.
Asia's Expectations: Oh my gosh. We actually found a spot. Ok, so... we'll probably just sit on the dock and talk. Or, if Bree is feeling especially dedicated to the cause, we'll go swimming in our underwear. What a laugh!
What was actually happening: We were going skinny dipping.
We walked out on the dock, closing the door behind us. We made a few remarks about how our secluded spot was only really semi-secluded and we could, potentially, get caught at any moment. It's important to note that my expectations, starting now, changed in rapid succession.
As if someone blew the "ready, go!" whistle, Bree started taking off her clothes. Sarah and Hannah took note of this and began to quickly follow. My mind was blown. Never, in my wildest dreams, did I think we would be taking our crazy plan this far. So I did what any super uncomfortable person would do. I began to laugh like crazy. As I cackled like a mad man, I began taking off my shirt, but was so unfocused about it that I really did look a little crazy, struggling to get out of my own clothes. Then I heard Bree say, "Asia! You're being so loud! People are going to hear you and come over here! And take off your pants already!" I snapped back to reality and finished disrobing. Then, we were all standing there in our undies.
We debated briefly (teehee) about whether or not to just swim in our underwear, but once the notorious filth of the water was factored in... As if another whistle had been blown, the underwear came off too.
Asia's Expectations: Ohmygosh ohmygosh ohmygosh. We're naked on someone's private dock. Like naked naked. And there are people all around. Oh my gosh. We're skinny dipping.
What's actually happening: Yep. Now you get it.
We found a spot on the dock that didn't have boats attached to it and looked over into the dark water below. SPLASH! Bree jumped in. The water looked plenty deep and she claimed that it was cold, but not freezing. We looked down at her with envy and surprise, then concern. The distance from the dock down into the water was further than anticipated. Bree quickly discovered that she wasn't going to be able to get out of the water without help from two of us standing on the dock.
And thus it was decided that we needed to skinny dip in shifts of two. First up would be Bree and Sarah. Then after we pulled them out, Hannah and I would jump in. This, of course, was poor planning because Bree and Sarah are very petite and Hannah and I each had about 4 inches on them. But thinking wasn't our strong suit as we were standing nude on a dock. Oh and also we were illegally in the park. Remember that?
Sarah jumped in and after about 30 seconds of being in the water, it was decided that their shift was over. It was just enough time for Sarah to agree with Bree about how cold and deep the water was. Hannah and I offered our hands and arms and we, quite un-attractively, helped the girls clamber out of the water.
Then it was our turn. Hannah and I jumped in. It felt nice to have my body concealed in the water. Pretty quickly, it was decided that our turn, too, was up and we needed to head back. One of the highlights of the evening was when Hannah said, "But aren't we supposed to swim around and enjoy ourselves or something?" And Bree responded with a caustic, "There's no time for that! Get out!" We laboriously climbed out of the water and got back on the dock.
We had done it. We had skinny dipped. And it was, quite possibly, the most awkward, ungraceful, artless, almost public skinny dipping in history, but it was unbelievably fun and unbelievably funny. It reminded me nothing of Nightswimming by REM.
As we put our clothes back on, someone decided that it would be funny to leave a pair of underwear on the dock. A calling card. Just to raise a few eyebrows. To leave our mark on this dock for whoever to find. After an inventory of who was most willing to give up their underwear, I took one for the team. And that's how my underwear ended up on some dude's dock.
A few weeks later, Sarah and I would be reminiscing about our eventful evening. "Hey, wanna do something this weekend?" I asked. Sarah smiled. "Yeah. And bring Bree. That girl is crazy."
Monday, September 12, 2011
Life Plan
Life plan.
Life plan life plan life plan.
I have a college degree.
I have a job that is related to that degree. Ok. That is good news because not everyone can do that.
I pay for all my own stuff. Including a car payment and my phone bill and lots of other bills that I don't like to think about because it makes me feel too old and poor. This means I don't rely on mom for anything (wellllllllll OK sometimes I use her money to put gas in my car).
I want to get married at some point and have some babies that I can buy cute outfits.
Ultimately, I would like to teach high school film/media classes to juniors and seniors. Or English or something. No. Probably the film/media thing.
I don't think I want to be in Provo anymore because I feel like I'm stuck in a vortex of stasis. It's like my feet are stuck to a launching pad. Everything feels temporary. Plus male/female relationships are all kinds of jacked up.
I don't know where to go next or when to go there.
I don't have a lot of money saved up. Well I do, but I'm too scared to spend it on anything because I feel like it should be in a 401K or something.
I'm running away to Africa for 2 weeks.
Sometimes I play Roller Coaster Tycoon 3 to avoid grown up decisions.
I want to watch all of the movies Queen Latifah has been in.
Some days I feel like all options are good. Some days I feel like all options are bad. Well mostly just scary.
What I've decided is this: How my life changes doesn't matter as much as making the choices to cause change. I just need to move in any direction.
What if I move to Connecticut? That was my thought this evening.
Life plan life plan life plan.
I have a college degree.
I have a job that is related to that degree. Ok. That is good news because not everyone can do that.
I pay for all my own stuff. Including a car payment and my phone bill and lots of other bills that I don't like to think about because it makes me feel too old and poor. This means I don't rely on mom for anything (wellllllllll OK sometimes I use her money to put gas in my car).
I want to get married at some point and have some babies that I can buy cute outfits.
Ultimately, I would like to teach high school film/media classes to juniors and seniors. Or English or something. No. Probably the film/media thing.
I don't think I want to be in Provo anymore because I feel like I'm stuck in a vortex of stasis. It's like my feet are stuck to a launching pad. Everything feels temporary. Plus male/female relationships are all kinds of jacked up.
I don't know where to go next or when to go there.
I don't have a lot of money saved up. Well I do, but I'm too scared to spend it on anything because I feel like it should be in a 401K or something.
I'm running away to Africa for 2 weeks.
Sometimes I play Roller Coaster Tycoon 3 to avoid grown up decisions.
I want to watch all of the movies Queen Latifah has been in.
Some days I feel like all options are good. Some days I feel like all options are bad. Well mostly just scary.
What I've decided is this: How my life changes doesn't matter as much as making the choices to cause change. I just need to move in any direction.
What if I move to Connecticut? That was my thought this evening.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
My Life Is A Little Depressing
So Blogger has this cool thing where you can just read all of the comments that have ever been posted to your blog in one neat little list. I was looking at this list for funsies and someone posted "Let's have a Footloose Party!" I immediately got really excited about whoever wanted to have this party with me. I was also really nervous that I had missed the opportunity they offered. I looked down where it says who posted the comment and was met with my own name. I had commented this as a response to someone saying they liked Kevin Bacon.
Footloose Party with myself. Epitome of sadness.
Footloose Party with myself. Epitome of sadness.
Adventures Outside
Once upon a time, I lived in the land of Florida where camping is something crazy hermits do in swamps and hiking is well... Impossible. Also in the land of Florida, there is no river rafting. Well, not that I know of. And if there is, it's probably real boring. Florida is flat, hot and humid. And you can get eaten by an alligator. Or herd of alligators. A gaggle, perhaps.
Florida is also magical and wonderful, but for you Nature Valley poster children out there, you may be disappointed to discover the closest thing to an incline you're likely to find is a highway overpass. Climbing these, btw, is not recommended.
Anyway.
Then I moved to Utah. I was 17 and excited about college. I was also freaking amazed every time I walked out of my dorm and encountered the incredible sight that was "mountains". I was entertained enough just looking at them and basking in their glory. It had never occurred to me to climb one. And, being a Florida girl in Utah, I felt a bit out of place when I was ambushed by my fellow college students wearing what they called Chacos as they asked me if I wanted to climb a mountain or sleep outside. Or climb a mountain then sleep outside. I mostly just said no. A couple of times I said yes. I hiked the blasted Y. Camping just sounded like a social experiment to see how many different ways you can die just from being outside.
So traversing the outdoors was a challenge for me both physically and conceptually.
Fast forward to this last summer. I was now seasoned in all things outdoors-y. I had been hiking at least twice and camped once over the span of 5 years. This meant I was a regular granola. I'm even waiting to hear back from Nature Valley about whether or not I can be on their next poster.
Nature Valley: You've been hiking HOW many times??
Asia: TWICE.
Nature Valley: Amazing!
Asia: And I own a Nalgene water bottle, sucka.
Nature Valley: It's too much!
Anyway, they're checkin' to see if I'm overqualified.
One fateful day last April, I got an email from my friend Sean about doing a camping/river rafting trip in central-ish Utah sometime this summer. I though it sounded fun and certainly within my abilities. We bought our tickets and planned our trip. Then we got super busy and summer filled up with random jobs/trips/other things that made it seem like our camping trip would never happen. But a couple of weeks ago, the stars aligned and the trip was planned. The group was Sean, me and his two older sisters. They were all born and raised in Utah and had camped at least 35,000 more times than me. Though my one short bout with sleeping outdoors was enough to count as at least 6 camping trips, they still had me by 34,994 camping experiences. My Nature Valley confidence was waning quickly.
Before we met up, Sean had asked me a few questions that further challenged this confidence.
Sean: Are you ok just sleeping outside on a tarp or do you need a tent?
Hm? Did people do that? It seemed like a tent was sufficiently primordial. Sleeping on a tarp increased the likelihood of death and animal molestation by at least 73%. It was a tough call. But I was determined not to be the little nancy that needed a tent, so I said something like:
Asia: Whatev! I'm down!
Luckily it was all over texts and he couldn't see the trepidation in my eyes.
Sean: We're bringing some bikes in case we want to go for a ride. Are you interested?
This one was a bit trickier because I knew that mountain biking was something I most likely couldn't do. The last bike I had been on was barbie-themed. And even that was on a flat neighborhood road. And even THAT ended badly.
Asia: I don't know anything about mountain biking.
Sean: You just put your feet on the pedals...
He was making fun of me. It was a challenge. One I wanted to meet and metaphorically punch his face with. But I also didn't want to end up a bloody heap at the base of a mountain, so I replied with a sheepish:
Asia: Well, if you don't think it'll be too hard, I'll try it, but it's really no big deal for you to go without me.
He said if I felt like it, we could take turns on his bike. I let it drop. He didn't bring it up again. Touché.
We met up and began the 3 hour drive down to Moab. We left after dark due to work schedule maneuvering and almost immediately ran into a huge lightning storm. It was a lot of lightning. Like... sleeping outside seems like an issue if there's an 80% chance of death by electrocution.
But on we went!
When we arrived in Moab about 3 hours later, we found a dirt road, pulled over and prepared for the evening. Luckily Sean had thrown a $30 K-Mart tent into the car -- "just in case". We set it up, changed into jammies and jumped in just before an enormous rain/lightning/thunder storm. As I lay there in the dark, both feeling and hearing the tent get completely thrashed in the storm, both spooning and being spooned by girls I didn't know I was close enough to for such close proximity, I was caught by the incredulity of the situation. It made me smile. It also made me feel like I was really roughin' it.
RAFTING
The next morning, we headed out for our rafting adventure. It wasn't long before we found ourselves standing on the side of a beautiful river in Moab, Utah. We strapped on life jackets and were asked by a man with a very nice bod if we wanted to go down the river in a raft or an inflatable kayak.
Another toughie. Kayaks? I hardly had time to think; my party of native Utahns were dividing us into pairs and claiming our kayaks. I mostly cowared behind Aubry, the sister I was paired with as a kayaking companion. I started to feel very sorry for Aubry. Accepting me as a kayaking partner surely meant death or getting stranded somewhere dry and lonely. But then I decided to man-up. I could kayak! People kayaked all the time. Asia is a kayak-er!
Plus there would probably be a little tutorial, right? Or a little safety rope? Surely they weren't going to trust that I could control this thing, right?
Right?
As we were preparing to get in the river, hot bod Joe came around and asked us if we felt confident in our ability to paddle our kayaks to the side of the river after we had been on the river for a few minutes. I couldn't bring myself to say yes. However, Aubry answered for both of us.
And we were off.
It was beautiful and serene. The river was lined on both sides by tall, red mountains with scattered groups of sparse trees. The weather was perfect, too. Clear sky, but not too hot. A rarity for Utah in July. The beauty of the scenery could, perhaps be blamed for the blunder that occurred after being on the river a mere matter of minutes.
I realized all too late that hot bod Joe's challenge was just that... a challenge. I was in the back, which meant I was in charge of steering. This meant we spinning in a lof of circles and trying (but nearly failing) not to tip over. It also meant that, when the time came to steer toward our group on the banks of the river, we were in no position to join them. Facing backwards, we floated right past them, staring blankly. A pitiful, more helpless version of deer in headlights. As we floated by, our party waved their arms and yelled things. I lamely splashed my paddle in the water a few times. Sean and his sister just smiled. I could tell that hot bod Joe lost all his confidence in us.
We were able to eventually get to a tree and grab a poky branch. We waited there until we saw our group pass us. With our eyes unable to meet those of our counterparts, we clumsily paddled out to join them. My kayak tutorial came then. A shout from hot bod Joe -- "The person in the back is for steering."
Screw you, hot bod Joe. I'm from Florida.
From there it became a comedy of errors. We got caught in what seemed like an underwater forest, scooting our bums in order to escape our twiggy captors. Then we got caught on a random sand bar. For this one, we actually had to get out, push the kayak forward and get back in.
I thought a lack of tutorial would surely produce many inept kayak-ers. Someone to commiserate with. But no. It seemed as though the only people not well versed in the ways of the river-tamers were myself and my stalwart companion. Aubry was extremely patient with me throughout, thank goodness.
After a little while, we selflessly surrendered our kayaks to a couple that wanted to get out of the large raft. We said things like: "Just when we were starting to get it!" and sort-of believed them. Swapping spots with the now kayakers, we ended up at the very front of a raft filled with some random strangers and lots of children.
The highlight of this episode was feeling my body fling out of the raft into the rapids and thrash between the raft itself and the large waves that ravaged it. Aubry, in a noble attempt to keep me in the raft, fell out herself. Upon being pulled back in, a small child looked at me and said, "You fell out. I didn't."
True, sassy child. Very true. And that may be the perfect coda to my life as Davy Crockett's wannabe progeny. But, I must say, despite the somewhat sordid and hopelessly inept nature of my camping/rafting experience... I had a BLAST.
So suck it, Nature Valley.
Florida is also magical and wonderful, but for you Nature Valley poster children out there, you may be disappointed to discover the closest thing to an incline you're likely to find is a highway overpass. Climbing these, btw, is not recommended.
Anyway.
Then I moved to Utah. I was 17 and excited about college. I was also freaking amazed every time I walked out of my dorm and encountered the incredible sight that was "mountains". I was entertained enough just looking at them and basking in their glory. It had never occurred to me to climb one. And, being a Florida girl in Utah, I felt a bit out of place when I was ambushed by my fellow college students wearing what they called Chacos as they asked me if I wanted to climb a mountain or sleep outside. Or climb a mountain then sleep outside. I mostly just said no. A couple of times I said yes. I hiked the blasted Y. Camping just sounded like a social experiment to see how many different ways you can die just from being outside.
So traversing the outdoors was a challenge for me both physically and conceptually.
Fast forward to this last summer. I was now seasoned in all things outdoors-y. I had been hiking at least twice and camped once over the span of 5 years. This meant I was a regular granola. I'm even waiting to hear back from Nature Valley about whether or not I can be on their next poster.
Nature Valley: You've been hiking HOW many times??
Asia: TWICE.
Nature Valley: Amazing!
Asia: And I own a Nalgene water bottle, sucka.
Nature Valley: It's too much!
Anyway, they're checkin' to see if I'm overqualified.
One fateful day last April, I got an email from my friend Sean about doing a camping/river rafting trip in central-ish Utah sometime this summer. I though it sounded fun and certainly within my abilities. We bought our tickets and planned our trip. Then we got super busy and summer filled up with random jobs/trips/other things that made it seem like our camping trip would never happen. But a couple of weeks ago, the stars aligned and the trip was planned. The group was Sean, me and his two older sisters. They were all born and raised in Utah and had camped at least 35,000 more times than me. Though my one short bout with sleeping outdoors was enough to count as at least 6 camping trips, they still had me by 34,994 camping experiences. My Nature Valley confidence was waning quickly.
Before we met up, Sean had asked me a few questions that further challenged this confidence.
Sean: Are you ok just sleeping outside on a tarp or do you need a tent?
Hm? Did people do that? It seemed like a tent was sufficiently primordial. Sleeping on a tarp increased the likelihood of death and animal molestation by at least 73%. It was a tough call. But I was determined not to be the little nancy that needed a tent, so I said something like:
Asia: Whatev! I'm down!
Luckily it was all over texts and he couldn't see the trepidation in my eyes.
Sean: We're bringing some bikes in case we want to go for a ride. Are you interested?
This one was a bit trickier because I knew that mountain biking was something I most likely couldn't do. The last bike I had been on was barbie-themed. And even that was on a flat neighborhood road. And even THAT ended badly.
Asia: I don't know anything about mountain biking.
Sean: You just put your feet on the pedals...
He was making fun of me. It was a challenge. One I wanted to meet and metaphorically punch his face with. But I also didn't want to end up a bloody heap at the base of a mountain, so I replied with a sheepish:
Asia: Well, if you don't think it'll be too hard, I'll try it, but it's really no big deal for you to go without me.
He said if I felt like it, we could take turns on his bike. I let it drop. He didn't bring it up again. Touché.
We met up and began the 3 hour drive down to Moab. We left after dark due to work schedule maneuvering and almost immediately ran into a huge lightning storm. It was a lot of lightning. Like... sleeping outside seems like an issue if there's an 80% chance of death by electrocution.
But on we went!
When we arrived in Moab about 3 hours later, we found a dirt road, pulled over and prepared for the evening. Luckily Sean had thrown a $30 K-Mart tent into the car -- "just in case". We set it up, changed into jammies and jumped in just before an enormous rain/lightning/thunder storm. As I lay there in the dark, both feeling and hearing the tent get completely thrashed in the storm, both spooning and being spooned by girls I didn't know I was close enough to for such close proximity, I was caught by the incredulity of the situation. It made me smile. It also made me feel like I was really roughin' it.
RAFTING
The next morning, we headed out for our rafting adventure. It wasn't long before we found ourselves standing on the side of a beautiful river in Moab, Utah. We strapped on life jackets and were asked by a man with a very nice bod if we wanted to go down the river in a raft or an inflatable kayak.
Another toughie. Kayaks? I hardly had time to think; my party of native Utahns were dividing us into pairs and claiming our kayaks. I mostly cowared behind Aubry, the sister I was paired with as a kayaking companion. I started to feel very sorry for Aubry. Accepting me as a kayaking partner surely meant death or getting stranded somewhere dry and lonely. But then I decided to man-up. I could kayak! People kayaked all the time. Asia is a kayak-er!
Plus there would probably be a little tutorial, right? Or a little safety rope? Surely they weren't going to trust that I could control this thing, right?
Right?
As we were preparing to get in the river, hot bod Joe came around and asked us if we felt confident in our ability to paddle our kayaks to the side of the river after we had been on the river for a few minutes. I couldn't bring myself to say yes. However, Aubry answered for both of us.
And we were off.
It was beautiful and serene. The river was lined on both sides by tall, red mountains with scattered groups of sparse trees. The weather was perfect, too. Clear sky, but not too hot. A rarity for Utah in July. The beauty of the scenery could, perhaps be blamed for the blunder that occurred after being on the river a mere matter of minutes.
I realized all too late that hot bod Joe's challenge was just that... a challenge. I was in the back, which meant I was in charge of steering. This meant we spinning in a lof of circles and trying (but nearly failing) not to tip over. It also meant that, when the time came to steer toward our group on the banks of the river, we were in no position to join them. Facing backwards, we floated right past them, staring blankly. A pitiful, more helpless version of deer in headlights. As we floated by, our party waved their arms and yelled things. I lamely splashed my paddle in the water a few times. Sean and his sister just smiled. I could tell that hot bod Joe lost all his confidence in us.
We were able to eventually get to a tree and grab a poky branch. We waited there until we saw our group pass us. With our eyes unable to meet those of our counterparts, we clumsily paddled out to join them. My kayak tutorial came then. A shout from hot bod Joe -- "The person in the back is for steering."
Screw you, hot bod Joe. I'm from Florida.
From there it became a comedy of errors. We got caught in what seemed like an underwater forest, scooting our bums in order to escape our twiggy captors. Then we got caught on a random sand bar. For this one, we actually had to get out, push the kayak forward and get back in.
I thought a lack of tutorial would surely produce many inept kayak-ers. Someone to commiserate with. But no. It seemed as though the only people not well versed in the ways of the river-tamers were myself and my stalwart companion. Aubry was extremely patient with me throughout, thank goodness.
After a little while, we selflessly surrendered our kayaks to a couple that wanted to get out of the large raft. We said things like: "Just when we were starting to get it!" and sort-of believed them. Swapping spots with the now kayakers, we ended up at the very front of a raft filled with some random strangers and lots of children.
The highlight of this episode was feeling my body fling out of the raft into the rapids and thrash between the raft itself and the large waves that ravaged it. Aubry, in a noble attempt to keep me in the raft, fell out herself. Upon being pulled back in, a small child looked at me and said, "You fell out. I didn't."
True, sassy child. Very true. And that may be the perfect coda to my life as Davy Crockett's wannabe progeny. But, I must say, despite the somewhat sordid and hopelessly inept nature of my camping/rafting experience... I had a BLAST.
So suck it, Nature Valley.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
This can't be the right thing to say...
On a hot day in valley forge, my brain decided to take a little detour.
Let's rewind a bit... I'm in Pennsylvania for my work as production coordinator on a pretty nifty little reality tv show. I think you would like it. Anyway, part of this episode required a little jaunt to valley forge, where (hopefully) enlightenment would happen.
We arrived at 9am-ish and I immediately realized how little I know about valley forge. I want to say that I know my US history -- I definitely loved studying it and if I think about it too much I get all misty and patriotic --but I didn't realize that, aside from a visitors center and a few reconstructed huts, valley forge is just a huge, beautiful park. There is no admission and no walls around it. People were taking jogs and stuff.
We met up with a genteel, kind of older park ranger named George. George was super nice and really really looked like a park ranger. He even wore one of those park ranger hats. George showed us around the visitors center then came with us outside to shoot some cool scenes. It was super hot and humid and we were outside shooting for hours. We had water bottles in the car to help combat the environment and I was in charge of keeping people hydrated (among other things... I swear I have a real job). Enter brain issues:
Asia: George, would you like a...
Asia's brain: ...walker? That's not the right word... Walker? Water? Whopper? Walker? That's the one.
Asia: ...walker?
Asia's brain: well done.
Loooong pause
Asia's brain: wait a minute...
After another long, strange pause, my brain came to a realization:
Asia's brain: what happened? We thought this through! Wrong choice! How did this happen??
But George either misheard me or just opted to forgive the strange comment from the mentally challenged girl who's only visible duty was giving people walkers -- I mean water.
What a sweet guy, that George.
Let's rewind a bit... I'm in Pennsylvania for my work as production coordinator on a pretty nifty little reality tv show. I think you would like it. Anyway, part of this episode required a little jaunt to valley forge, where (hopefully) enlightenment would happen.
We arrived at 9am-ish and I immediately realized how little I know about valley forge. I want to say that I know my US history -- I definitely loved studying it and if I think about it too much I get all misty and patriotic --but I didn't realize that, aside from a visitors center and a few reconstructed huts, valley forge is just a huge, beautiful park. There is no admission and no walls around it. People were taking jogs and stuff.
We met up with a genteel, kind of older park ranger named George. George was super nice and really really looked like a park ranger. He even wore one of those park ranger hats. George showed us around the visitors center then came with us outside to shoot some cool scenes. It was super hot and humid and we were outside shooting for hours. We had water bottles in the car to help combat the environment and I was in charge of keeping people hydrated (among other things... I swear I have a real job). Enter brain issues:
Asia: George, would you like a...
Asia's brain: ...walker? That's not the right word... Walker? Water? Whopper? Walker? That's the one.
Asia: ...walker?
Asia's brain: well done.
Loooong pause
Asia's brain: wait a minute...
After another long, strange pause, my brain came to a realization:
Asia's brain: what happened? We thought this through! Wrong choice! How did this happen??
But George either misheard me or just opted to forgive the strange comment from the mentally challenged girl who's only visible duty was giving people walkers -- I mean water.
What a sweet guy, that George.
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