Dead Serious

Just because someone has passed away doesn't mean that we have to be morose all the time. I'd like to share a few of the funeral week humor highlights.


Word Choice

• When DP found out that I was in Canada, he wrote me an email asking, "What brings you up to Canada in the dead of winter?" Perhaps he could have chosen better wording...

• When I was doing the funeral program, I asked my aunt what the deadline was. Again, there may have been a better way to phrase that...

• I did the program quickly and didn't have much of a chance to proof it. It was perfect except that my uncle was giving the euology, not the eulogy. This led to much discussion on exactly what a euology is, and what a euologist might do. We finally concluded that because most of the eulogy was in the first person (my uncle read exerpts from my grandma's personal history), a euology must be a first-person eulogy.

Phone Faux-Pas

• Although I didn't listen to my voice mail while I was in Canada, once I got home I listened to the messages that had accumulated while I was away. I received a message from Rice saying, "Cicada. I'm calling to tell you that you have been very lazy about your blog. I went online today expecting to be entertained, but only saw your old post about Dwight that I had already read. You need to be better about updating your blog. What could possibly be keeping you from maintaining it? Get back on the ball." Apparently immediately after calling me and leaving that message, she called El Senor and found out that I was in Canada for our grandma's funeral. Rice began to worry that maybe I'd be offended... Well, I was, Rice. Deeply hurt and offended. We're not talking anymore.

• As we were making funeral preparations, my mom called a ward member to ask if she could play the organ. Her five-year-old daughter answered the phone and before passing the phone to her mother, dutifully asked who was speaking. Without thinking, my mother said, "This is Sister [Last Name]." The little girl started gasping, "Oh! Oh! Oh!" She covered the mouthpiece and called to her mother, "Mom! It's Sister [Last Name]! She's ALIVE!" Then she said into the mouthpiece, "Sister [Last Name], I thought you were dead." My mother then had to explain to her that she was just the daughter-in-law and that Sister [Last Name] was, in fact, dead.

Canada Doesn't Have the Internet

At least that would be the easiest excuse for why I haven't been blogging for the last little while. So please accept my apologies and I'll move on to more interesting things.

You know, I always think that I don't have money for a trip to Canada. Last year when I was a student, I planned a trip to Toronto to spend time with Spartacus and her brother Dave (it's such a generic name that I don't worry about using it). But I canceled last minute because I was worried about spending that much money. It turns out that at that time, it was the right decision to make. But since then, I've gotten a job that offers vacation time and pays well.

Tuesday night, I found out that my grandma died and suddenly I had enough money and motivation to make the trip. The Boy and I were on a plane Wednesday morning. Between Tuesday night and Wednesday morning, there's not much time to make travel arrangements, and it was as I was walking out the door that Dave called me back and let me know that he and Spartacus could pick me up from the airport (otherwise we were just going to fly to Toronto and figure it out from there).

And so The Boy and I got a sort of mini vacation mixed in with a funeral. I'll tell you something, being back in Canada in some ways makes me regret that I ever left. Dave and Spart picked us up at the airport and took us out to eat and do a little shopping. At the mall (which, I must say, was a nicer mall than any I've seen in the States) I saw stores that I haven't seen for years. It's opportunities like this that I must seize in order to get clothing that no one else back home has. The cultural diversity was nice to see too (in Toronto---once we got up to Timmins, the only cultural diversity you get is English, French, and Native American).

The evening with Spart and Dave was great, and I can't help but think it must have made my grandma more than a little bit happy. It's never been a big secret that our families have always thought that Dave and I make a good match and that my grandparents especially have always thought that Spart and The Boy make a good match. I'm certain that my grandma was thrilled that her death brought about this double date. Special thanks go out to the two of them, by the way, because Spart took that evening and the next morning off of work so that she could look after us (The Boy stayed the night at her parents' house and I stayed at her apartment) and Dave took the evening off of law schooling during a very busy time of year to spend time with us.

There's so much about this trip that I can say, and I think that's been one factor in my not blogging for so long---trying to figure out what to say without going on forever. In the next few days, I'll have a little more to say perhaps about the funeral and my grandma, but for now, I'll just focus on the fact that it's surprising how quickly you can throw together a trip to Canada.

On our way back through Toronto (right now I'm at a hotel waiting for my flight home to SLC) we met up with Dave again---Spartacus was busy with work---and I let him know that I took my vacation to Canada and now it is his turn to come and visit me in Utah. We'll see if he lets me get away with using two evenings as "my turn" or if he makes me take a real Toronto vacation before he makes his way to Utah.

And I might also mention that though I am impressed with Canada and though I've recognized all those things that I've been missing for so many years, I don't think that Canada is better than the USA or that the USA is better than Canada. If I moved to Canada, there would be so many things about the USA that I would miss as well. And perhaps sometime soon I'll make a list for you of exactly what I miss about Canada and exactly what I would miss about Utah.

Not Quite Dwight

Yesterday I promised El Senor's coworker that I would post a picture of him with Dwight Schrutte glasses. You see, apparently El Senor has told his coworkers about my blog and tells me that I have a silent following over there. So, to reward my silent voyeurs, I present to you the childhood of Cicada and El Senor.

You see, it's funny that the two of us have ended up living together after all these years and all that's happened between us. We never liked each other growing up. He was by far my most trying brother. When he was seventeen, I once ran outside to cry about what a horrible person he was, and my mother came to comfort me, letting me know that he probably would never treat me nicely until after his mission.

We had a bad history. When I was nine, he'd put Weight Watchers and Shape magazines on my bed and tell me to use them. When I was eight, he'd comment on my disgusting unshaven legs, or he would tell me to "suck it in" when we went to the beach and my little tummy was showing. I once walked into a room and he looked at me and said, "Holy crap, you're ugly."

I was nasty to him in return. I would deliberately provoke him. My mother saw me provoking him one day and watched the ordeal. I annoyed him to the point that he finally hit me. He got in trouble and was sent to his room. My mother came to talk to me and said, "You knew that he would hit you if you kept doing what you were doing. Why did you do it?" I replied, "I like seeing [El Senor] get in trouble."

Fortunately for us, we both grew out of it. One day things simply changed---and it was even before he left on his mission. I'm not exactly sure what did it, but things have never been as bad as they were. Sure we have our moments, like when El Senor comes into the living room at 3:00 a.m., claiming that my silent typing is keeping him awake. Or like when I get in trouble for leaving a bowl in the sink overnight, but he never gets in trouble for leaving a cereal bowl beside the couch all night. Or like when he gets mad that I drink from a new glass every time I get a drink. Or like when I call to tell him that I went out of my way to buy him a Costa Vida burrito and he complains that it will be cold by the time he gets home and it'll be no good reheated. But seriously, things are better. Like now, instead of ordering me to read Shape and Weight Watchers magazines, he politely encourages me to read Shape ("You know, you can get a subscription to Shape for only $6 at discountmagazines.com...") and encourages me to participate honestly in Weight Watchers ("Don't worry, Cicada. I'll eat all that pumpkin pie you made. You don't have to even have a bite!").

And fortunately for us, we also grew out of what we used to look like back then. But mostly, I blame our parents for that. I present to you some pictures of El Senor with Dwight Schrutte glasses.


(Consider this last one my special bonus to you. Notice that Captain Fabuloso has a nice manly pair of hockey skates, but El Senor is wearing a cream colored coat, a dainty scarf, and figure skates.)

My Boyfriends

It has come to my attention recently that I have a number of dysfunctional boyfriends. They are, of course, my TV boyfriends, but still their dysfunction disturbs me. Why can't I love a normal man? Let's examine together my TV boyfriends.


4. Gregory House

I wrote about this last year. While it's still true that Gregory House is one of my TV boyfriends, he has been demoted to the least of my TV boyfriends (which isn't bad seeing as how none of the men from Lost have even qualified as a TV boyfriend). Let's review his qualities.

Why I Shouldn't Love Him:
He is mean, misogynistic, self-centered, emotionally unbalanced, and addicted to pain killers.

Why I Love Him Anyway:
He is good looking. (But you didn't see me falling all over myself for Wooster, now did you?) He is brilliant and hilarious and gifted and dreamy.


3. Gob Bluth

Here is my secret confession, which I have only ever confessed to Redras and which I am now announcing to the Internet. I heart Gob Bluth. For those of you who don't know who he is, you have no idea how sorry I am for you. For those of you who do know who he is, I can explain! I can explain! My attraction to Gob Bluth is purely hormonal, but when those hormones rage, so does my attraction to Gob. Redras understands.

Why I Shouldn't Love Him:
For goodness sakes, he's Gob Bluth. He's moronical, unethical, and selfish. He's a magician and he sucks. He treats women and his family poorly.

Why I Love Him Anyway:
Hormones. Only hormones.


2. Jack Bauer

How can a girl not love Jack Bauer? Even straight men cannot deny their crushes on him. He is absolutely irresistible and indestructible. It's a killer combination.

Why I Shouldn't Love Him:
The man manages to kill anywhere between seventeen and one hundred and two individuals per day.* He stops at absolutely nothing to get the truth. He cannot manage any relationship (by the way, Audrey isn't in the previews for season 6 and the actress who plays her is now starring in another television show, so either Audrey gets killed or decides to no longer be with Jack). People whom Jack loves die (highlight the following space for a list of names, not in any order: Teri Bauer, Nina Myers, David Palmer, Tony Almeida, Richard Walsh, George Mason, Michelle Dessler, Ryan Chappelle, Gael Ortega, Edgar Stiles). He behaves rashly and breaks rules all the time. He doesn't follow correct government protocol. I hate to think that Jack Bauers exist in the real world.

Why I Love Him Anyway:
He's so hot when he's got his gun pointed at someone else's head and yells "WHERE'S THE BOMB" and blasts off knee caps. He's vulnerable when no one but the camera is watching.


1. Danny Taylor

Danny Taylor is my full-time TV boyfriend, and I'm embarrassed to admit that my DVR allows me to watch all ten hours of Without a Trace that air every week. He is not as troubled as the men previously listed, and he's also not a boyfriend that I have in common with many women, which is nice not to have to share. But I realize that although I love him dearly and almost desperately, I still wouldn't love him in the real world. Why?

Why I Shouldn't Love Him:
He is an FBI agent and he kills people fairly regularly. It's got to be tough leaving that baggage at the office. I shouldn't hold this against him, but he's an alcoholic who's been sober for years. Like I said, I shouldn't hold it against him but I can't help but judge. He's too smooth with the ladies. I catch him making eyes at women all the time. He's a cocky sonofagun with a really bad temper. We can blame the temper on his Latin American blood (he's Cuban). No, really, sometimes he's just too cocky. He blames himself for his parents' deaths (again, baggage).

Why I Love Him Anyway:
He is so dreamy. And he's strong and he would protect me. And he's smart and he comes from a rough background but he pulled himself out of it. And he is pretty much the best dresser I have ever seen. How many suits can a guy afford on an FBI agent's budget? Because the man has many, many different suits. And different coats. But I caught him wearing boots with---I hesitate to say---heels on them. He doesn't need to be any taller, but does any man who is straight and not a cable installer have heels on his boots?

So there are my TV boyfriends. Recently, I told Rachel about my number one boyfriend, even Danny Taylor. Before I told her who my boyfriend was, she said, "It better not be Jim Halpert because he's mine." When I told Redras about my TV boyfriend, she remembered my feelings for Gob but knew from the context that it couldn't possibly be Gob. She asked who it was, telling me that her TV boyfriend was Jim Halpert. Not that I want to steal anybody's boyfriend, but...

I simply must add... Jim Halpert

Jim Halpert is the only stable, non-violent man on television right now, from what I gather. Of course he's every girl's TV boyfriend! Of course he's what every girl is looking for!

Why I Love Him:
He is down-to-earth. He's hilarious. He's normal. He's sweet. He's perfect.

So as much as I love my Gregs, Gobs, Jacks, and Dannys, I need to find a Jim. I need to find a man who is stable and funny and doesn't kill people. In the meantime, I'll continue my turbulent love affair with Special Agent Danny Taylor and just borrow Jim every Thursday night.




*These are not precise statistics.

This Laptop Will Self-Destruct...

...in four years, two months, and two days.

Captain Fabuloso and Captain Mom met during their law school orientation. Captain Fabuloso was on crutches, Captain Mom offered to help him carry around his books. I wasn't there for it, but I am sure that they were excited as they got to know each other and discovered how much they had in common. Most important of all these common characteristics, I'm sure, were their twin laptops from Dell. Back then, $3000 could buy you a black laptop, weighing a mere twenty pounds, with a mighty four-gig hard drive.*

Captain Fabuloso and Captain Mom eventually married. They've kept their computers and used them until this weekend. On Sunday, October 29th, Captain Fabuloso's laptop died. On Tuesday, October 31st, Captain Mom's laptop died.

I'm sure a lot of other creepy things happen on Halloween, but the death of two identical laptops within two days of each other? I smell a Dell conspiracy.

Unfortunately, my Dell conspiracy theory doesn't survive the hard evidence that Captain Fabuloso's computer actually died because he dropped it. Still... it's just too perfect....




*This is an exaggeration. Though I don't know the specs of their computers, I'd say they weighed about ten pounds or more each and had twenty-gig hard drives.