Um.

I don't like it when couples or men come into my store looking for massage oil.

It turns out...

pregnant women are jerks.

...and Family

This one time, my sister sang in sacrament meeting in my parents' ward and my niece gave a talk in primary and no one told me about it.

This other time, I told my family, hey, if you ever go to ______ again, tell me, cause I want to go. Then that weekend I went to my house and no one was there and I called my mom to see where they were and they were at that place and they said they forgot about me.

Another time they went to dinner and didn't tell me about it. Twice.

Another time my mom said, "oh we forgot to call you about________, but I'll call you tonight and tell you what we're doing." She then proceeded to forget.

Around this same time my mom said, and I quote exactly, "You need to check in with me every once in a while so that I remember that I have a sixth child." I had talked to her earlier that day.

So very very loved.

Friends

I decided that I'm going to only be friends with my niece cause she likes me a lot more than everyone else does.

Just kidding I like you

I've said it before and I'll say it again:

Everything Jeff Buckley touches turns to gold.

(http://hypem.com/search/jeff%20buckley/1/
Listen to his cover of Elton John's "Curtains". and if you have time, his cover of The Smiths' "I Know It's Over.")

Classy Stuff and Music and Drugs

Sometimes I call Ralph the dog "Rafe" like Ralph Vaughn Williams. It just makes him seem classier. And it makes me happy. His toes are clicking on the tile. Also makes me happy.

Guys, I read this story yesterday that my creative writing teacher recommended to me cause it was about music and I wrote a thing about music once and he said I'd like this story. I did, cause the writing was really good but it was depressing. He said my story and this story were similar in content and evoking blah blah blah...but I read it and the big difference is, in my story the effects of music were positive. In this one, it seemed, music was an escape for this guy from life's pains. Music and also heroin.

But it was a cool story though cause it made the point about how everyone is trying to escape something painful in life and everyone has different methods of doing that. It contrasted these two brothers, a straight-laced school teacher and a jazz musician who keeps getting busted for drugs, and eventually the first brother comes to understand how the second brother is able to deal with pain through his music.

Pretty cool.

Malcolm just put his head on my wrist and now it's hard to type.

Addiction

It's gotten bad.

Oddity

Sometimes I go to my blog and am disappointed to see that there's been nothing new posted.

Gay Pride

Get it?

Dear Africa:

Wow.

Love,
Caitie

At last

We somehow got to Dubai. We had to wait in JFK for 12 hours to be put on standby for an 11.00 pm flight since we missed our 11.30 am flight on account of our flight from Salt Lake being 6 1/2 hours late. Wheee! It's a long story, you don't want to know.

Well ok, here it is: Our flight from SLC kept getting pushed back for some reason, and left after 6.00 am when it was supposed to leave at midnight. So we got to JKF at 12.30 and our flight to Dubai left at 11.30. The Emirates airline lady was kind of a jerk and said the flights that night, as well as for the next 3 days or so, were completely full and good luck getting standby for any of them. We were wondering what to do, or if we'd have to by all new tickets on a different airline or what. We decided to try our luck on the 11.00 or 11.15 one that night.

The lady said this booth would open up at 4 so we could be put on standby. So we went at 3 to be first there in line. When it did open, the computer wasn't working, so we waited 45 minutes for the tech guy to come fix it. Anyway, we eventually learned that we couldn't be put on standby YET because that guy wasn't authorized to do it w/o his supervisor, who was MIA, so we had to come back to this other place that opened up at 7. The guy said to look for him, and he'd take us first and make sure we were put at the top of the list. He was really nice.

So we did more waiting, which was fun, and got there at about 6.15. We were near the front of the check-in line and this other guy that was helping us (our friend wasn't there yet) didn't know how to do it so he said to ask this other lady. Our friend guy came running up and said something to the lady about how we should be put at the top of the list. So we finally got put on the standby list, and I figured we wouldn't get on either flight since they were both so full. But we were told to come back there at 10.15 to see if we were on the flight or not.

After 3 more delightful hours of sitting and waiting, dead tired, in uncomfortable chairs, listening to a noisy Indian family reunion or rally or something, we went back. People kept asking us what we were waiting for, and we'd explain we were on standby, and they'd say "Oh OK" and go off to fix us, and then someone else would ask what we were doing. So then this group of like 7 million Orange Shirt Missionary people came up at like quarter to eleven, so they got swamped checking them in. At this point the lady told us there was no way to get on flight 202 (the 11.00 flight) and we could wait to see if we could get on the 11.15 one that makes a stop in Hamburg. Ok so I'll skip some story and go to the part where all the airline people were looking for us apparently, and we were standing right in front of them, and they didn't realized that WE were the elusive family of three (which, as I mentioned, were standing right in front of them where they told us to wait).

So eventually this guy's like, "oh, you're that family of three? Oh yeah, you've had seats for a while." So he gave us our boarding passes. At this time it's like 10 to 11 and he said, "oh I can guarantee that flight won't leave at 11. You're fine." We couldn't believe it and practically skipped toward the security place. There, this guy was freaking out at someone and saying some -very- colorful things. Right when we were about to go through the door to the security line, an airport person said "Close the doors!" So the door to our freedom was slammed in our faces. (Noooooo!) Anyway, I guess this guy was a security threat but we FINALLY got let in, almost fainting from relief.

So we got on the plane and sat right behind Peter's parents. I watched a movie (there were over 200 to choose from!) and the ceiling, when the lights were off, had little lights in it that looked like stars! So cute! Anyway, my mom gave me this sleeping pill and last time i checked, it said there were 10 hours left of flight. When I woke up, there were 2 hours left. Yesss. So nice.

Then, it turns out, my mom's suitcase made it but they think the other three bags were put on the 11.15 flight that would get in at 8 the next morning (this morning) and they'll deliver our bags to us this afternoon. So. Hopefully that will happen, cause I'm tired of wearing these clothes. Luckily Amy has toothpaste and shampoo and other stuff for me to use.

Ok bye.

K, bye

Um...bye guys. I'm leaving tonight. So enjoy America for me, and celebrate its formation on the fourth.

Is it bad that one of the things I'm most excited for is going to Zanzibar because that's where Freddie Mercury's from? Cause I am. But can you blame me? I guess the other stuff will be cool too.

So if you want a giraffe, put in your order in the next few hours so I can know how many to bring home with me.

TRY to have fun without me, if you can. It'll be tough.

Eh? Eh?

Treasure Hunt

See it?

Ikea

Swedish people are rad. What with their putting dots over all those vowels. Heh. What were they thinking?

No but seriously you should go to your nearest Ikea if one near you exists. If you don't live near one, go cry. Hard.

And also:

Tee hee

A Cold and Broken Hallelujah

Just as an unexpected surprise, I'm writing about Jeff Buckley today, this being the tenth anniversary of his death.

If I were a genius or at least more talented than I am, I would pay him the poetic tribute that he deserves. But I'm not, so I'm just going to tell you that I like--nope--love his music. His lyrics are poetry and his music is perfection.

If you don't know who I'm talking about, shame. Shame on you. Go get whatever albums you can get your hands on and listen to it all day long.

May this demi-god rest in peace.

Yes, the irony has struck me that this was written by a young, idealist moron

I was looking in my black book of wonders for things to post on my blog. I dug up this little number. Enjoy:

You know what's not fair? Ageing. Aging? I looked it up; both are correct. Ageing looks right in handwriting, while Aging looks right in type. Weird.

Your young, vital, relatively attractive years are wasted on half-formed minds and poverty. Then, when you're experienced and sage and above all, rich, you're still the same person except you're not--you're and old person now. So you no longer count. You're discounted, swept off the stage to clear the way for "the future," the young, idealist morons who think they know. They think they know everything you've had to suffer and hurt and struggle to know. And they're wrong. They don't know. They don't know at all. And these are the people were modeling our society after? They set our trends, dominate our media, run our every institution? Whose idea was this?

People should be born with an old body, and get younger as a reward for their lives. Everyone should die at twenty.

cool

i like how some of you guys actually did that