Anatomy of an Email.

So here's what's what...

Recently I realized that a) I need to post something funny, and 2) I have lost my funny.

Yes, this is the truth. I no longer possess the ability to be funny. Possibly it is due to the fact that I've started drinking my coffee black. There is nothing humorous about black coffee, so, in an effort to improve itself, it must have stolen my funny. No, I'm not bitter, (the coffee is, though) just disappointed- I expected more from my coffee.

(You see? Terrible, not funny at all.)

So I thought to myself, "Well, I still need to post something funny. What about one of those emails you sent to Miriel?" Miriel is my sister. Sometimes, in an effort to add some color to her day, I send her emails that are somewhat humorous. I hope by looking at this email and telling you it's working parts I can start to get my funny back. My comments are italicized. Here goes.

Dear Ye Olde Sister... Title must be humorous to attract immediate attention.

I am breaking Dave Barry's mandatory rule that anyone who puts and "e" at the end of a word unnecessarily has to pay $50,000 per use to the IRS. Please don't tell anyone. I don't think you're olde. In fact, you're youthful and beautiful and any man who sees you is a fool not to fall at your feet! (How DO you walk around?)

Excessive flattery in an email has a rate of return that is 9.86 times faster than a regular email. True fact. Nope, just kidding, made that one up.

So I was just dropping you this...drop...this uhh...thing-a-ma-jig...email?

No idea. In retrospect this was not funny at all.

Yes, this is an email. Check. To see if you were uhh...doing alright. Yes, check. I'm sorry, it's just that we haven't talked in so long that I'm having trouble remembering your middle name.

A humorous little something that can't possibly be true adds depth.

I remember you last name because it's the same as our sisters': Gosher. Yep.

Also not true.

(Minnesota accent) Everyone loves a good Minnesota accent. ...Shut up, yes you do.
So ah, I really miss yeh, to say the least. I cried whilst perusing yer blog because I miss yeh so much. Now ah, I mean, I do cry easy, but don't let that getcha down. I done did that cryin' all fer yeh.

In all seriousness, I am almost depressed enough to drink away my troubles with the bottle of black fig vinegar that is sitting on the windowsill right now. I'm sure there's barely enough alcohol left in it to get a mouse drunk (a drunk mouse! haha!) but it would for sure make me throw up. Which is...exactly the opposite of what I want. Huh. Ok. I need to get some depression lessons.

We need to talk soon. For cereal. Or, we could just start an enormous email chain. Whaddaya think?

Leven'smooches from your youngest yet, ironically, biggest sister,
No, people this does not mean "Eleven Smooches." Do you see an apostrophe before it? No! Therefore it means what it sounds like, which is "Love and smooches" gosh.

TIRIRNNENNNENE

This type of signature is more likely to make the reader laugh and feel compelled to email back immediately. Brilliant, no?

Hm. Still not funny. I'll let you know when I find my funny again. Do you have any suggestions/ideas for getting it back? I need it soon, Thanksgiving is coming up!! And then Christmas. If I don't have it back by then, I might have to have myself committed. And, as much as you all want that to happen, my nephew would miss me. He's only almost two, have pity.

Utilitarianism, or Not

Ok, so, I don't claim to be really smart or a scholar or anything but sometimes I do read non-fiction books to help me understand life a little better. I happen to be reading a VERY thick book, in both senses of the word, called "Love and Responsibility" by the late John Paul II. For those of you who have read it, I apologize for my very weak understanding and ramblings and if you could help me out in the comments section that would be great. For those of you who haven't read it, take whatever I say with a bottle of salt. Anyway, here is the quote which gave me chills:

"If, while regarding pleasure as the only good, I also try to obtain the maximum pleasure for someone else- and not just for myself, which would be blatant egoism- then I put a value on the pleasure of this other person only in so far as it gives pleasure to me: it gives me pleasure, that someone else is experiencing pleasure. If, however, I case to experience pleasure , or it does not tally with my 'calculus of happiness'- (a term often used by utilitarians) then the pleasure of the other person ceases to be my obligation, a good for me, and may even become something positively bad. I shall then- true to the principles of utilitarianism- seek to eliminate the other person's pleasure because no pleasure for me is any longer bound up with it- or at any rate the other person's pleasure will become a matter of indifference to me and I shall not concern myself with it." (italics added)

WOAH! Right? I mean, talk about crazy! That IS the situation of most relationships and "marriages" in the U.S. and most other Western countries. This struck me particularly in contrast with a wedding I just attended for a childhood friend. Her pastor outright told her and her husband-to-be that their marriage would only work if they put each other first. He knew, he'd been married for thirtysomething years. I have great hope for them as a strong Christian couple and pray that they take his advice. But I know this isn't the case for most people.

It breaks my heart to think that this utilitarian ideology has so permeated our society that marriage is reduced to an institution merely for pleasure and convenience. Having been taught all my life what marriage really is, and what it is supposed to accomplish, the more I think about how things are today the more I am revolted. But more than revolted, I am in anguish for those people, those souls, who don't know the truth.

I guess all I can do is pray for more grace for them so that in some way I can share in the struggle.

Quick Takes...

I have to say something. I don't generally like reading other people's "quick takes". I know, I'm a horrible person, but I decided that maybe I'll be cured of that by writing my own. (Maybe?) Here goes.

1. The person who invented apple butter is a sadist. Seriously. "Oo! Here is something delicious but you have to stand over a stove just stirring and stirring and getting hot little bits of apple mush on your arms! And then for all your efforts, what started out as twelve quarts of apples will now only be two! Haha! So fun!"

2. For the past oh, nigh on 5ish days I have been CRAVING ICE. Like I thought I was thirsty but no- MUST HAVE ICE. Finally I Googled "craving ice" and wouldn't you know, craving ice is a sign of anemia! Google, you're so good to me. How else would I have known? Out come the Floradix pills.

3. Re-listening to Bill Cosby stand-up. Possibly the funniest guy on the face of the Earth. No, scratch, THE funniest guy on the face of the Earth. What could be better than the Niagra Falls sketch? "And I said to myself, 'Why should I tell her?'" HI-larious.

4. Ballet class. Yep. Performing to Mary J. Blige's "Good Love." Not joking. Still kinda freaked out.

5. How many of these am I supposed to do? 7?

6. Lurfing the Fall weather. It's chilly and windy and sunny and perfect. My favorite time of year without doubt. Also, who doesn't love crunching little leaves under his feet? Crunch...crunch...crunchcrunchcrunch. There's something so satisfying about it. If you see a girl jumping from leaf to leaf on the sidewalk and laughing, it's me.

7. MY LITTLE PEOPLE GET HOME TOMORROW!!!!!!!! Meaning Blaisey and Camilla. I have missed them so. :)

Ok, so It was sort of fun-ish to write. What do you think? Yes? No? I need sleep. Good night.

It will be October on Saturday and as you all know the Halloween stuff has been up since May. I hadn't really thought much about it until I saw two moms thrashing it out for a 0-3 month size Spider Man costume at the grocery store. That's when I decided "Gee, I'd better jump on this Spider Man bandwagon!" Hah! Tricked you! You thought I was going to dress up in a 0-3 month size costume for Halloween! FOOL! Really, I just decided that I want to dress up this year despite Camilla's protests that "Silly Aunt Tirienne, grown-ups don't dress up! Only kids." She's just afraid I'll out-do her. Whatever. I'm about to turn 20, my ego's not fragile or anything but IT'S ON LITTLE GIRL!!!!

Ideas. Let me know what you think.

"Nothing"

This is where I would dress regally in my own clothes and be the life of the party that I usually am.

Pros

1. Would look sweet
2. No one would be able to guess my costume
3. Would be seen as "hip", "forward thinking", "hot" as per usual.

Cons

1. Camilla would beat me.

Final Decision- No freakin' way.

"Pregnant Lady"
Arwen's kids have these things called bilibos and if you happen to stick one under your shirt you look about 9+ months pregnant.

Pros

1. Verrrry realistic
2. People who know me would think it was funny(-ish)
3. If the party was a drag I could pretend I was going into labor

Cons

1. People who didn't know me would be like "Woah, that is a really pregnant girl."
2. Inevitably, someone who I vaguely know would see me, tell someone I know well (who would probably be from church) and the next time I saw that person they would be all like "Sooo, I didn't know you were pregnant! Did you have your baby yet?" and I'd be all like "What baby?" a la Polly St. Clair in Two Weeks Notice, and then they'd be "Uh so why are you hiding your baby?" and I'd be all like "No, really, WHAT BABY!?!?" Explaining would lead to further confusion. CPS would most likely become involved and then the FBI and before you knew it there would be an Amber Alert for a nonexistent baby.
3. People would want to touch my belly. Or bilibo.

Final Decision- Maybe.

"Spider Man, in the 0-3 Month Size"

Pros

1. All except my right calf I could dress in my regular clothes.

Cons

1. Would spend the evening with a sweaty calf.
2. People would comment "Uh. I think a tiny Spider Man is eating your leg."
3. Would have to scuffle with grocery store moms to procure said costume

Final Decision- Heck yes.

As always, thanks for reading. My next post will be: "Reflection- was that Scuffle Really Worth the Jail Time?"

Our First Anniversary

Moshers, Moshers, Moshers (Moshers) Those four. Dorky, Quirky, Beautiful, Adorable. Or, as you better know them: Bryan, Arwen, Camilla, Blaise. It's been exactly a year since I came to live with these wonderful, fabulous people and, oh what a rollicking ride it's been. These are just a few stories and observations that I'd like to share with you because it's always fun to get an insider outsider's opinion, right? Right??

When I first arrived here all I was apt to get from Blaise was a casual “What's up?” as we passed in the hall. Now he shrieks out my name when he sees me. I mean, it took him a year but he finally figured out that I'm awesome. Or, he figured out how to say my name. One of the two. (By the way if you were wondering it's pronounced Teary-n, like a sad, sad N that has no home, no family and no shoes.) Needless to say, I find that my littlest nephew is pretty sweet, a good hang, likes to make me laugh, and wears his sister's shoes when he finds them, you know, just in general an awesome guy.
Putting in his daily call to China.


What Camilla has learned in the past year is, “Sarcasm 101”. Her dear, wonderful father has finally broken through to her. The first few months when she asked “Daddy, can I have some juice?” and he responded “No, no you can't.” she would usually cry. She's wised up though. Now she says “Daddy, you're just teasin'. Now get me my juice, fool.” She's figured it out, and dang, she ain't got no time to mess around.

Her job is checking the mail. She's very serious about it.

On moving in, I knew that my brother-in-law liked poop/fart jokes. I just didn't realize how much he liked them. His favorite time to make jokes like this is when he's changing Blaise's diapers. So far these are the names he's come up with for Blaise: “Poopy McPooperson of Poopy, Poopy Lane”, “The Poopenater” and my personal favorite “Knight of the Brown Table, Sir Blaisey McPoops-a-lot”. If you're not a person who appreciates poop humor, then I just feel sad for you. Because you'll only think about half of Bryan's jokes are funny. And he's a funny, funny guy. Actually, after a year of observation I'm pretty sure that's the main reason Arwen married him. (Bryan! Hey! Just kidding, she married you because you're handsome, intelligent and caring, and don't you forget it! Please don't kick me out of your house.)


This is actually how I picture Bryan in my mind. Yep.

Lastly but not least-ly we come to my dear, sweet, sister Arwen. Living with her for a year has let me get to know the sister I thought I never would. Our age gap is such that my first real memories of her are ones of her coming home from college for the summer. It's kind of sad to me that I didn't get to know Arwen better sooner because she's one of the most generous and caring people I know. Also one of the most hilarious. I think out of all four sisters Arwen and I have the most similar sense of humor. So thanks for all the fun times, big sister.

This past year has been one of the best and most fun in my memory. You guys have helped me grow as a person and as a sister so Moshers, thank you for letting me live with you. It's a privilege.

Letter to Grandma

Today when Arwen was putting Blaise down for the night she asked if Camilla could come down and hang out with me so the whole process would be a little smoother. Camilla is easy to watch and tonight she was even easier because she was writing a letter to her paternal grandmother also known fondly as “Grandma Yogurt”. Camilla sat down at my desk, carefully arranged her markers and asked me to spell out “Grandma Yogurt” for a picture she was drawing. I was lounging on my bed reading, too lazy to get up and make sure she was forming the letters correctly, I mean she's been doing it for months, and she's pretty good it so why did I need to get up? I said each letter to her in turn and when she was finished she brought me a lovely picture of her and mama (Arwen) in grandma's pool that was labeled “Grab ma yogurt”. Nice. This is exactly what Camilla's loving but somewhat strange grandmother needs to see; me encouraging her to draw pictures that seem to command grandma like a servant. I can just imagine how that conversation would go down, or south depending on how you look at it. “Hey, grandma come here! I've got a picture for you, there's a secret message in it too, ha ha ha ha*. And make it snappy, YoKids doesn't do well in the sun.” Three year old on a power trip. This is where a simple misspelling gets me. Camilla is asking “Why are you laughing, Aunt Tirienne?” How do I explain this? Maybe she'll read this post when she's sixteen and be able to laugh at herself. Let's hope so. :)


* A la Bill Cosby in the “Noah” sketches.

New Discipline.

This sounds kind of scary, right? Like I'm going to take up corporal punishment and beat small children. But I had to make this the title, it's the only appropriate one. Sorry if I scared anyone.

So here's the real poop, scoop, 411; I have decided that I am going to blog at least once a week and what's more I will be reading blogs! Something that I haven't really ever done. Seems strange, because half, no more than half, of my family blogs. My, Dad, mom, and sisters Arwen and Miriel all have blogs, they're pretty awesome. I decided that I should start reading them because, these are my family members and they're putting stuff out there for people to read and maybe, in some way I'll learn more about them and be able to help them better.

I wish I could say my reason behind posting more often was a humble or inspiring one, like "Jesus asked me to." But really, it's because I think I might have something to contribute, maybe something funny to say. (Let's face it, we all love to laugh, and I'm pretty much hi-larious.) Don't expect to be inspired, (like on the rest of my people's blogs) I'm not a scholar or a brilliant thinker, truly, I'm just trying to make you laugh.