And in other news... I'm home!

Here's a lame story.
I'm reading a book about dating (it's not actually about dating; it's really about God but presented somewhat sneakily, which is nice because I've come to realize God is way cooler than dating and most boys) and the chapter I just finished talked a lot about how the way you treat your family is the way you'll treat your future spouse. I've been hit a lot this year with the crucial nature of preserving bonds with your relatives over whatever distances may hinder them, and the fact that how no matter how much they bother you in high school, you'll end up realizing sometime or other that you really do kind of love them. I'm also feeling oddly philosophical (can you tell?), and I'm in one of those moods where the crap that should just stay in my journal often ends up on the internet.
And today, I realized that as much as I love them, my family is full of weirdos.
This is what came of it all.


Nifty Little Sayings About Family That Would Be Quotable If They Weren't Stupid.


Family is stalking yourself on Facebook and realizing that you are becoming your mother.


Family is looking through photo albums and wishing your siblings were still babies.


Family is upholding no traditions except the one that specifies that your little brother can't get a cell phone before you did.


Family is hitting up Panera Bread to see your dad while the rest of your friends hit up Hollywood and see Brad Pitt.


Family is bringing your grandma cheese because she broke her knee and can't walk for six weeks.


Family is breaking traffic laws to get to each other's school programs on time.


Family is playing Apples to Apples every Thanksgiving and waiting for someone to put down Helen Keller. (Watch everyone get upset about this one.)


Family is spending your evening at a roller hockey game and watching giant high schoolers strangle your brother.


Family is someone who says they love your dog and actually cleans up after it.


Family is hating all of your Christmas pictures and not understanding why your mom doesn't.


Family is getting to brag about how your brother made varsity football AND soccer.


Family is not questioning your dad when he tells you he wrote half the books in his office.


Family is the people who will beat up the zebra at the petting zoo when it won't let go of your hand.


Family is not slapping your little brother when he names your ponytail "the weasel."

Family is ordering six books on Amazon and realizing that you are becoming your father.

Family is the best excuse for getting out of lame parties.


Family is 80% of your missed calls.


And finally, the sentimental ending...

Family is what God gave you because he knew swimming would be boring without someone behind you humming the theme song from Jaws.


This really is just my family. As you can see, we're really great.
Thanks all of you for reading, annnnnnd... That's it!




It's not. I had a weird burst of creativity. Below are some mini biographies about my loved ones. But they're optional.
It's all optional.
Have a beautiful week.




Mini Biographies (with appropriate mini font).


Daddy.
Once upon a time there was a little daddy. This daddy grew up and did all the things that you don't want to send your kids to college for fear of them doing. He has great stories. One day he was being bad, and the next day he was being worse, and the next day Jesus said, "Nope!" and now he's a pastor. Now this daddy is the busiest man in the world. He watches hockey like it's one of the commandments and tells pastor jokes like the one earlier in this sentence. He's smarter than he admits and louder than he realizes and when I called him last week to ask how he was, he told me he got new bookshelves.
Mother.
Mom went to college and met the aforementioned daddy. They got married and someone gave them this round wooden box that says "Bless this house" and I still don't understand why we kept it. She was a national merit finalist and a valedictorian and a salutatorian and a children's book author and a teacher and a principal and a bank teller and currently works in human resources at a university. When she's not working professionally, she fixes everyone's problems and wonders aloud why no one ever takes their shoes out of the front hallway.
Big Little Brother.
Big little brother had the roundest eyes and head of the baby versions of the family. He currently has the poofiest hair. He plays varsity football and soccer, and apparently now roller hockey. Over the past few years, he has become rather adept at cleaning up after and caring for small reptiles. Last summer we were the same height and only two years apart (not that we aren't still two years apart), and we pretended to be twins. It worked. We also went snorkeling and saw some fish while we looked for our other brother's flipper for an hour.
Baby Little Brother.
Despite his inability to keep track of aquatic footwear, baby little brother is quite talented, and may someday be White Magic Johnson. For now, he walks dogs and does algebra. His sense of humor is developing at an alarming rate, and I hope he doesn't start blogging, or else I'll have lost you all. All my friends who have met him have informed me that he's going to be an attractive teenager. I didn't really care and neither should you.
Dog.
Dog has yet to realize that chocolate is bad for her. We adopted her from someone who adopted her from someone who adopted her from someone and wait...maybe not that many. Either way. She can't fetch, but she's great at guilting you out of your dinner, eating biscuits, and as of recently, not peeing on the carpet.
Ramses and Zilly.
Ramses and Zilly are our bearded dragons. Someday they might have babies. 
We also have two snakes named Checkers and...Grumpy? I call him Grumpy. They won't have babies because they're both boys. We also have some fish and plants and maybe another lizard. Their genders are unspecified.


Fin.

Today, therapy > entertainment. Sorry.

Well.
I'm sitting in the 2002 Winter Olympic and Alf Engen Ski Museum Coffee Shop.
It is also probably worth mentioning that I'm in Utah. 
Blogging.
I mean, I still don't know what curling is, so they definitely didn't do a good enough job. But I know who Alf Engen is. And you're about to, once the Wikipedia article in the next tab loads. See? Isn't he cool? I know ALL about him.


This fortnight past, I've been on a trip around the southwestern portion of the United States, singing my heart out with my women's choir and spreading the joy of music to whoever frequents our concerts.
In other words, I've been stuck on a bus with fifty chicks for two weeks.


Bethany mentioned today as we made our way over to this establishment that the influx of girl talk has caused us all to be thinking way too much about weddings and okay really this is completely irrelevant but apparently this coffee shop has never made a vanilla chai tea drink until today. I guess history is just meant to happen here. Regardless. We talked about girl talk (which I guess means we did girl talk, which is ironic in some obscure way) and how it's making us think way more about things like boys and flowers, and then she said something really deep about how flowers bring joy because they are life that can't be captured by words, and I naturally I stopped talking because everything I said after that sounded stupid.


But she's right. About both things, but right now I'm talking about the...talking. Girls and guys together make for good conversation dynamics, because they don't just bring two different perspectives, they bring two different sets of common sense. Girls like to plan their weddings so that they have a good idea of what to do when the big day actually comes. Guys don't because, heck, we're eighteen and why would we be planning it now? We're not getting married until...later. (This is why falling in love is so crucial, because it gives them motivation to do things for your wedding, and that's why grooms don't show up in jeans and work boots unless they're short on cash or immoderately hipster.)
Girls also talk about falling in love a lot. They talk about how many kids they want. What they'll name them. What ethnicity they want to adopt them from. Who they'll have them with. What they want in a husband. What they used to want in a husband. What they'll probably end up with. How they'll get married. When they'll get married. What job he'll have. What car they'll be able to afford. Whether or not they're comfortable driving a mini van. How many kids will fit in a mini van. How many kids they want...
Dizzy yet? You shouldn't be. It's like MASH for bored grownups. Anyway, that all happens, and that's kind of the shorthand...
The really really short shorthand is that girls talk about themselves until their opinions start clashing. Then they talk to someone else about the other person.


As you may be able to tell from this post and ones previous, I have difficulties dealing with women, particularly in large quantities. Which is why I was so surprised that this tour went as well as it did, because I became so close to so many people and gained respect through understanding the pasts and consequently the behaviors of all of them. And all of them were girls. 
Weird.


Last night, unfortunately, it just became a little too much, and I called a friend in desperate need of a man to talk to, not because the relationship talk made me rabidly interested in one, but because if I didn't hear a voice that wasn't at least two octaves below mine, I would probably faint. It helped, but not enough.


So I wrote this.


I really really like trees. Big, tall green ones. Most trees are like that. I like hamsters and sometimes I go into pet stores to stare at them. I spend too much money when I'm with my friends. I want to be a scuba diver and I hate sharks. Sharks only kill two people a year. My favorite food is strawberries. My favorite subatomic particle is a quark, but electrons are pretty. The kids behind me can spell the F word. I want to drink tea out of a mason jar every day because the Russian person in my Exodus class did and I want to be her. I'm scared of horses, but not cows. I used to hate onions but they really aren't that bad; I'm still working on tomatoes. People that hog the spotlight make my neck hurt. Chai tea is okay. It tastes like pumpkin pie if pumpkin pie was a juice. I go barefoot. I wish I played an obscure sport or the piano. I'm probably going to have a lazy eye because I never wear my glasses. I miss my dog. She pees too much. The other day I called my dad to ask him about a song because I missed hearing him sing. My favorite basketball player is my little brother, and my favorite football player is my other brother, who also plays hockey and soccer. I like being intellectual. I like reading books because they make me feel intellectual.
I also won't post this on Facebook because I don't think it's good enough.
That's all for now. I have a call time to make and I'm tired and I don't know what to say anymore and trying to be funny is exhausting.
Have a lovely day and I'll be home soon.


Much love,
Lydia