Laura's Line

You may have heard Google has listed my office phone number and address for just about every state government service imaginable. I've gone through phases of the many stages when it comes to dealing with this: denial, frustration, anger, acceptance. After a couple days of having fun with it, I've looped back into avoidance. I just don't answer my phone.

But if you've stepped into my office at any given time the past couple months you might have overheard me say the following:

Hey Kiley, after listening to your message I suggest you have your boyfriend take a paternity test before you put his name on the birth certificate. Oh, and you got the wrong number.

Hmm...you know, I’m actually not sure how you get a business license. I hear you can do it online. When you find out will you call me back and let me know?

What’s softy base?

We don’t offer any anger management classes here, but did you see the movie Anger Management? It sucked right?

Hi, so...you’re getting married tomorrow...and you need a marriage license today? First: congratulations. Second: How long have you known this guy...

You saw a cute dog on KSL? A female terrior? Aww...sorry, you have the wrong number. My sister is looking for a dog. Did you have a dog growing up? I had a Lhasa Apso.

Yes, please hold while I look up “quit claim deed” so I can better pretend to assist you.

How long have you had the restraining order out on your ex husband?

Sorry, this isn’t the West Jordan pregnancy hotline.

You want me to calibrate your ice truck meters?

Hey, sorry about your cattle. I don’t have them.

Okay, okay. I need you to calm down. Did you see the person who threw away your stuff? Oh she’s your friend? Man, that sucks.

Hi Rob, I don’t know what it means to shorten the barrel on your shotgun, but I’m going to say it’s highly illegal. And please, stay away from me and my family.

Last Dream Sequence Sunday

All right. This is the last one. This dream wasn't mine, but it was my mom's. Noteworthy. Mostly it's the dialogue that was funny.

Sunday, April 22, 2001

Saturday I went with my mom to Gardner Hall to help her set up for the fundraiser. I hadn't talked to her for awhile. Here is a consolidated recap of one of our conversations:

"Laura Honey, can I borrow your credit card to buy something online?"

"Sure, whad'ya wanna buy?"

"I want to adopt a turtle."

"What?"

"I saw this thing on TV where you can pay $25 to adopt these turtles that are endangered species. They send you a packet with a picture of your turtle. They have little satellites on them so you can watch what your turtle does and where he goes on the website."

"Mom...these people are making so much money."

"No, it's the endangered species people. Besides, didn't I tell you about the turtle dreams I've been having?"

"You're having turtle dreams?"

"Yes. Last week I had a dream I found this huge shell. You know how I find shells at the beach and then put them in the sun to dry? And sometimes they have creatures living inside them still? And then they shrivel up and die? Well the turtle was shriveling up inside this big shell I found. It was so sad. You know how E.T. was when he was sick? It was like that.

And then the other night I had a dream that all these turtles and crabs crawled in the house from the basement. They were everywhere. You and I were chasing them out with brooms. We could see them through the glass doors and they wanted to come in so badly. The next day, I saw the turtle ad on TV so I feel like I need to do something about the endangered turtles."

I Like You...but it's a secret.

That is one classy yam.

I’m sitting here, cutting and pasting Valentines I plan to give to some friends in my neighborhood. My first instinct when delivering these is to set them on the porch, ring the doorbell and then run like hell.

That’s what we did when we were little, right? Why did we do that? Even my mom would somehow find a way to sneak out of the house, set up little presents on the door step, ring the doorbell and then run inside before her kids were the wiser. One time I was at my parents' house (I think I was 24) and heard a knock on the door leading out to the garage from the family room where I was sitting. I opened the door, looked down and saw some Valentines treats. Then I looked to my left to find my mom, back pressed up against the wall, fists up to her face, hoping I wouldn't see her.

Where did this idea of doorbell ditching come from? Don’t get me wrong, it was totally fun. But for some reason we just didn’t want to face the person and say, “Happy Valentine's Day. This is for you because I like you.”

So, to those of you who still read this blog of mine, Happy Valentine's Day! Go ahead and leave an anonymous comment (it’s the equivalent of a doorbell ditch). It's a Valentine's Day tradition so it's cool.

Dream Sequence Sunday

Sometimes I have NO idea why my subconscious comes up with this stuff.

Sunday, October 14, 2001

It was General Conference or something. My whole family was there in the auditorium (bizarre aspect #1). My dad whispered to me that Bruce Willis was here because he's a mormon now. Everyone in the auditorium was whispering about it and looking for him in the crowd. I thought I spotted him. Then he got up and walked toward the stage like he was going to speak to the whole congregation.

The next thing I remember was him walking up among the crowd with a microphone. Only now, he was Demi Moore and she was way overweight. She was just walking up and down the aisles, talking to people with the microphone like she was a talk show host or something.

Dream Sequence Sunday

I'm curious as to what prompted this dream. Maybe I was tired of watching people's kids or something.

Sunday, October 14, 2001

The first thing I remember is being outside with Marni trying to buy tickets for an Incubus concert. I think we were with Shawn and Bri, who already had tickets. This old lady walked by me selling tickets. She wasn't scalping them or anything, she was an official salesperson -- I could tell because of her tee shirt. She sold me two tickets, but they had NURSERY written in big letters on them. I didn't really worry about it until we tried to get to our seats and the usher told us that our tickets were for the nursery where all the concert goers leave their kids. I was so upset that this happened again (apparently this had happened before). So Marni and I sat on the very last row up at the top in the back, while Bri and Shawn got the good seats.

I walked around trying to get a better seat but the place was packed. Andrew from KRCL said before that I could stand with him by his door (he was an usher that night) but when I found him he was at the very top back door.

Zoom Zoom!…and Whoo Whoo!

Earning a degree in art history required that I spend countless hours studying images, objects and symbols. If an object didn’t have an obvious meaning, my task was to assign a meaning to it and prove its validity. As a result, I think just about everything I do, everything I create, every object I welcome into my home and every gift I give is deliberate. It has to have some substance behind it, otherwise it is empty. And empty is NOT me.

Up until a week ago, I had only owned one car in my life: a ’98 Chevy Prizm. It was an inexpensive car because I bought it as a poor college grad with a part time job. It simply got me from here to there and kept me warm/cool on the way. It was fine. Cars were never anything I really cared about. I didn’t buy it for any other reason than the fact that if I wanted to have a job and earn money, I needed a way to get there. I wasn’t in any financial position to be picky. Thus, the car wasn’t representative of me in any way (except for my practicality). And because the car didn’t mean anything substantial to me, I didn’t necessarily love it. Our relationship was an empty one.

If there’s one thing I did love about my Prizm, it was that I didn’t care about it. Well, for the first 5 years I did care about its condition. The first day I got it, my dad backed into it – that was a little alarming. But after awhile, when I knew the car and I weren’t going to be together forever, I stopped worrying about things that might happen to it. There’s a lot of freedom in not caring about something. The hubcap flew off one day; Meh. My sister backed into it one night; Whoops, don’t worry about it. The fabric on the ceiling started to come undone -- whatever, it’s fine.

Now that I have a new car, it’s time to start caring again. I’m not saying the Mazda and I are MFEO, but it’s definitely more “me” than the Chevy Prizm. As I test drove cars, I mostly went by my gut feeling; if it didn’t feel like me, it got cut from the running (also if the seller was insincere and creepy). This is the only car I drove that felt like me -- it was a good feeling. Oddly enough, several people told me they couldn’t see me in this car. Granted, most of them didn’t know me very well. But if they were basing their understanding of “me” by the current car I drove, I could understand their reasoning.

For the past week, driving has been a lot more fun than it used to be. But now that I actually have a relationship with my car, I have to treat it with more respect. Unlike the Prizm, this purchase was more about choosing a car I thought was cute and fun to drive than it was about needing a car. The Mazda 3 hatchback isn't the nicest car out there, but it’s more than good enough for Laura.

The word “Mazda” derives from Ahura Mazda, the Avestan language name for a divinity that is the source of wisdom, intelligence and harmony. I trust this car will help me make wise decisions, complement the intelligence I possess and bring peace and harmony to me and anyone who comes along for a ride.

The current logo for Mazda was redesigned in 1997. The stylized “M” is meant to show how the company is stretching its wings for the future. The symbol also implies wings in flight and is sometimes referred to as the “owl” logo.

Because purchasing this car was a deliberate choice and actually means something to me, my tendency is to make a connection with it. I am now going to tap into my art history training and attempt to draw every connection imaginable between me and what I (and the internet) know to be true about owls.

Owls are nocturnal.
Lately, I have been known to be nocturnal.

Owls are inner-knowing, have psychic ability and intuition.
I often pretend like I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I usually do. I’ve also been known to have premonition dreams.

Owls are seers and keepers of souls transitioning from one plane of existence to another.
I have married off several roommates and ushered others into a new place in their life.

Owls are the messengers of secrets.
I know so many secrets I forget who I’m not supposed to tell what.

Owls have heightened senses and are always aware of their surroundings
I get cold easily. I’m also very sensitive to my environment. Ask my roommates. I can tell if something has moved, changed, or if it’s filthy. And I’ve always been really good at that game where you show me a tray of objects and then take them away and ask me to list what I saw.

Owls have a way of seeing through pretence.
Totally.

In conclusion, the Mazda and I are a good fit. I hope we have many happy and trouble free years together. We’ll have to give you a ride sometime.