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I’m stalked by a wedding singer. This is no joking matter. It should be, but it’s not. I started getting emails from this very persistent man last week. My name is quite common and I don’t have a fiancee named Ryan, so until today I’ve ignored them. However, this particular email leaves me wondering if perhaps I should find this other Sarah and warn her of impending wedding day doom. If this is the way he writes, what can he possibly offer her musically?
Poor, poor Sarah…

Sarah,
I Wanted to make sure that you got all of my e-mails of the other day, with attached information about my service. I also wanted to mentiones that I listed an error on your sign-up forrm. FOr your price quote (in yellow highlight collor) i described the rate that included trave ling timeto and from Newburgh. That was from a previous contract that I wrote up earlier that day, and did not delete itfrom my deleted. I attach the right one for you now. Talk to you soon…
Sincerely,
Lee W.

Dear Chady-Bear,

Thanks for the photocopied letter (insert loads and loads of sarcasm). What is going on over there? You don’t have enough time to write your family individual letters? How do I even know this letter is from you and not some automated computer system? Huh?? For all I know you could’ve been sold into slavery. Hey, it happens! I saw it on Absolutely Fabulous years ago. Except there were no missionaries, but still…

And what’s this nonsense about porn? I nearly peed when I read that part of your letter. I’ve never heard you mention porn and then you leave on a mission and suddenly bowchicabowow, you’re porn talking? Awesome, bear, awesome! And the same guy wanted to show you his member, before becoming a member? Please refrain from EVER eating at that restaurant again. Do you understand me? It’s not that I wouldn’t love to have a gay brother, but I always figured it would be Ben, not you.

I digress.

Thanks for the pictures! I loved seeing your bright, shiny face. No wonder Jesus wants you for a Sunbeam! Send more, okay? And the cute puffy sticky letters, umm, brilliant. Of course now I’m going to think you should always include a little surprise. Do it!

Things here are good. School started, and with 23 credit hours I’m more than busy. I feel like I’m going to drown in books, but there could be worse things in life. And no, this isn’t a race. How sad…the oldest child and youngest child racing through college. It wouldn’t be so odd if there weren’t 14 years between us. If you hadn’t gone on vacation for two years you’d have won. Thanks for the head start. I love you for that.

Labor Day wasn’t the same without you. I drove down with Uncle Cabbage Patch and his new family. The kiddo and aunt are great, I’m glad they live close enough that I’ll get a chance to know them better. I didn’t stay for the rodeo, which is good. Would have been boring without you to tease. The twins are getting so big. I can’t believe you’re missing out on two years. They still call Ben Uncle Mean, which is fantastic! They make family time tolerable. If I’d known this I would have got knocked up years ago.

I love you more than chocolate. How many minutes until you’re home? Too many. Christmas is going to suck without you. Speaking of which, how’s that search for Hello Kitty wine going? My Hello Kitty wine glasses are washed and waiting.

Miss you bear!

Love,
Sissy

I’ve been living the life of a pioneer for two days. I’d kill for a pink bonnet! Luckily, my power was restored just in time to catch up on Google Talk with my friend Dave while in Peru. The jerk travels more than Ben clips his toenails. I kid you not!

David: So I thought you might be amused to know that I have managed to develop some kind of infection right in the middle of my trip.

me: No way. Chlamydia again?

David: It started in my throat and is spreading to my lungs right now. Syphilis this time.

me: So full blown aids? I’m sorry

David: I’ve got Beastman Jungle AIDS!

me: Will you live long enough to spread it to others? Do your part, man!

David: I’m gonna try to reduce the population as much as I can while I still have time!

me: Al Gore would be so proud… there’s really no better way to conserve natural resources than to kill off the population one STD at a time. You’re such a martyr.

David: Perhaps there will be 78 virgins or whatever waiting for me in heaven when I die.

me: I think God and Al Gore owe you at least that…

To read my column for In Utah This Week click here!

Marky and I have a bit. Which shouldn’t be surprising, since I seem to have some sort of bit with nearly everyone I know. Everyone fun, anyway. This particular bit I can’t take credit for. His best friend is responsible for this one. But it’s funny so I adopted it. Whenever we mention what we’re doing, the other always adds the word naked. For example:

Marky: “I can’t go. I’m going to help my friend set up his new TV.”
Sarah: “Naked?”

Simple, but oh so funny, or at least we think so. The “naked” habit is hard to break, and sometimes I say it without thinking twice. Yesterday I had lunch at the park with some of my family.

Sarah: ” Grandma, where did everyone go?”
Grandma: “They went to get something to drink.”
Sarah: “Naked?”
Grandma: “No, not that I noticed. Were you thirsty? Your mom left her drink over there.”

I can’t figure out if my family is so used to my odd behavior they don’t question these sorts of things, or if my family is a naked family and I just never knew.

Ben: “Did you see Uncle Cabbage Patch’s new house? It’s so cool.”

Sarah: “Yeah, but I still haven’t decided which room is mine.” It’s between the one on the end or kicking the kiddo out of the pink room.”

Ben: “No, Sarah!! I already called shotgun on the end room. I saw it first!”

Sarah: “So what, I’m older.”

Ben: “You can’t use that forever you know. It’s not my fault you were born first.”

Sarah: “I will use it whenever I please. Besides the room is perfect for me.. it’s secluded and slightly separate from the others.”

Ben: “I refuse to give it up. The pink room screams Sarah, you should just move into that one.”

Sarah: “Hey, Ben… you do realize we’re fighting over a room in a house neither of us will ever live in right?”

Ben: “And your point is?”

After a late night out Pants and I went to Ruth’s this morning for brunch. I promised her it had the city’s best Bloody Mary, so to count on a wait.

What I hadn’t been counting on was seeing Captain America.

Last summer when I took him there for the first time he instantly loved it. I should have known he’d go back. I saw him about a month ago and it was awkward and hurt for days, but this was worse. Today he had his girlfriend with him. His very pretty girlfriend who makes him disgustingly happy. Sigh…

I ate my omelet, drank my Bloody Mary and tried to remain unaffected. Which, of course, didn’t work–it never does.

We didn’t acknowledge seeing one another, which almost hurt worse than being forced to smile and play nice while meeting his girlfriend.

I desperately need a city with less ex-boyfriends.

“When are we going to get crunk and hit skins?”

This was a text message a 23 year old sent me last night.

Where to start…

1) Never am I going to get crunk and hit skins with a kid. 2) Get crunk and hit skins? Are you kidding me–who says that? Oh wait, twenty fucking three year olds, that’s who!

Driving home today, I saw what looked like a cute guy on my street. I was gawking at him when I realized it was my brother Ben. After I threw up in my mouth I pulled over and yelled at him for looking like a normal boy.

I’ve been hesitant to blog about going back to school. Perhaps I’m embarrassed I never took my education seriously in the past. Whatever the reason, I’m going to have to get over it, and quick. The awesome fodder is totally worth it!

Did you know its okay to make out in class now? Maybe it always was, and I just didn’t attend enough to notice. In one of my classes there’s a couple who sit in the back and give each other back rubs the entire class period. And no, I am not attending BYU. By the end of the first week the back rubs had moved into kissing. I cannot wait to see what they’re up to by the end of the semester. In class conception?