Mary Versus the Trumpeting Legions of Apathy

Man, I hope I die when the bombs start falling. Don't get me wrong: I'm not suicidal or anything, but I have been reading The Road. And Cat's Cradle. And I saw that Terminator movie. In fact, a lot of post-apocalyptic things have been coming across my desk lately and I'm not so sure I could handle that (living in the post-apocalyptic world, that is, not reading about it). It just seems really hard to be witness to the last sputterings of civilization, and right now I am so not in the mood. I'm good with hardship, actually. In fact, one of my companions noticed that the worse things get, the more cheerful I am. Over compensating, I guess. I like to think (wouldn't we all?) that I'd be good even in a "critical time:" Leningrad during the War, Nagasaki after the War, etc. I even thrive on short-term hardship (as far as I've been permitted to know it), because it's so hard-core, so, in Jamie's terms, "club." If I've got any re...

For those of you who don't know him, my dog Frodo is pretty incredible. (Those of you who do know him don't need to be told.) He's perfect for my family: super kind, not aggressive, more interested in people than other dogs, protective, friendly, warm-coated in winter, playful, and increasingly calm. This is incredible, especially when I think about friends of mine who have had dogs that were lacking in this qualities. This is even more incredible when you consider that he just followed me home. I'd wanted a dog for a long time, but ever since Kenny the Cat, the Hedengrens have been largely pet-free. Oh, my sister had a rabbit that I remember and there was a disastrous lizard ownership, but my parents were pretty much insistent that fish is as cuddly as we got around here. Once a straying dog had showed up at my parents' door while I was at school and it made them think, " hmm , dogs aren't that bad," but she got claimed by her owners soon afterwar...

When it started to be summer-y, I went out to the Rite-Aid and bought two types of sunscreen: the facial kind for everyday and the ultra-sweatproof, waterproof spray-on kind for fun in the sun. Even though there were plenty of only-half sunny days, I made sure to be careful with the sunscreen, avoid painful burn and melanoma besides. For example, today. I knew I was going to be out in the sun planting flowers for the fair city of Provo, so I put on my usual sunscreen, then also sprayed down my arms, legs and neck. I even sprayed down my part so my scalp wouldn't burn, even though I was planning on wearing my straw cowboy hat. I made sure to apply 15 minutes before going into the sun so that I'd be well protected. We planted for three hours, even though it only felt like an hour and a half. We planted literally hundreds of zinnias, dreamland red colored (which would be a good font color...), in a planter along Center Street. We worked past blisters and blisters popping and ...

So....what do you think? I'm not sure I'm wild about the red, but I couldn't really match the blues or greens and the white looked odd so here you have it. I won't pretend that this didn't happen at 1:24 am when I was buffering the latest episode of House. I also won't pretend that this isn't the second successful use of Illustrator I have enjoyed. If anyone has layout/element/design suggestions, do share. I considered making a poll about whether I should include a poll, but...well, it just got a little too cyclical.

For those of you who don't know me in person (and I suspect there are very few of you), let me describe myself as short, blond, curly-haired, and plump. In short, I look exactly like a character named Mary would in a 1950s-era picture book. I'm afraid that I even look good in pale pink. That being said, it's a bit of a disappointment that I'm not tall, pale, and raven-haired, because, man, do I have a morbid streak. Last night I had a dream that I was shot in the back of the head, while I was kneeling--execution style. Actually it was a good thing, because I believe the dream-reality other option was hanging from the neck until dead and dream-me figured the head-shot would be painless. It wasn't. But I stood up and haunted my executioner for the remainder of the dream. A pretty disturbing narrative to wake up from for the ward intramural soccer game. And a pretty awesome one. My junior high cartoon alter-ego was Suzy Slaughterhouse. I've read every single Edgar ...