The Funeral Services of Phil Beta

I'm a fish killer. I am a killer of fish. You know that you have problems when you can't even keep a Beta fish alive.



We are gathered here to mourn Phil the Beta. He died on Friday October 23, 2009, and is survived by his owner: me. She had high hopes of getting him into the prestigious underground fish fight club, but now those dreams have been shattered. Months of intense training are wasted, and the hearts of Phil's fans are broken.


Ode to Phil

Oh Phil, you were the greatest Beta fish.
You always did the best that you could do.
Now that you're gone I only have one wish;
That there's a bowl in heaven just for you.
I hope the fishy angels treat you well,
And that you always have enough to eat.
But if, somehow, you find yourself in hell,
Take care, my dear, and stay far from the heat.
In any case, I'll miss you, my fish friend.
I'll never find another just like you.
I'm sorry that your life came to an end.
I'll miss your fins of red and green and blue.

Here's to you, Phil. You will be missed. *Taps plays gently in the background as Phil is flushed down the toilet.*

*Sniff* Thanks for coming, everyone. Help yourself to the funeral potatoes.

Where have I been?

Is there such a thing as blogging narcolepsy? If there is, I have it. I'll be in the middle of creating a fabulous blog post, and then without warning I'll go into some catatonic state.

And the next thing I know it's a month later and I haven't posted anything. I blame the government. I'm sure they're behind it...somehow. I haven't quite figured out the motives behind the conspiracy, but I'll be sure to update you in my next post. Six months from now.

Would you like to know what I've been up to in the last month? Of course you don't, but I'm going to tell you, anyway. Here are several of my major accomplishments since the end of September:

1) I learned the Thriller dance during my class at the gym. Be impressed.

2) I got the annual bronchitis. Hooray. Life wouldn't be complete without the hacking cough and wheezing breaths. Thanks, Bronchitis. Thanks.

3) I finally broke down and cleaned out my purse when I tried to find my keys (which are on a gigantic keychain, by the way) and couldn't. I did, however, find the following items: an inhaler, a bottle of HEMPZ lotion (complete with a picture of a marijuana plant on the bottle), a lipstick tube-shaped pen from the Spy Museum in DC, an A 440 tuning fork, a toothbrush, toothpaste, Tic Tacs, a camera, a book, too many tubes of lipgloss, miscellaneous coins, old movie ticket stubs, receipts, an ipod, a Beethoven CD, and my gigantic wallet. Let's not even start talking about what was in my wallet. It's pathetic. And, lest you think that my purse is one of those huge bottomless Mary Poppins-style carpet bags, it's not. It looks like this:



(No, that is definitely not my real hair. I just got back from a Halloween party thing, so I'm still wearing a wig. Though, I could get used to the look. For the first time in my life I'm tempted to chop my hair off and dye it blonde. Would that make me a traitor to the brunette community?)

Anyway, my purse is clean. Ish.

4) Finally finished decorating my room! Yay! Maybe I'll post pictures.

5) Teaching, teaching, teaching. I do not get along with 4th graders.

You know what? Five is a good number. Let's stop with five and spare you from having to read more about the monotonous minutiae of my life. (Did you love that alliteration? Yeah, I remember what alliteration means. Rock on.)

I hope your life has been just has exciting as mine has been. It's a constant party over in Julianna-land, I tell you. Seriously. I'm going to go vacuum up some of the confetti. Peace.

If I you weren't a kind institute teacher, I would kick you.

This was an actual conversation I had with a well-meaning institute teacher the other day:

Teacher: Weren't you engaged a little while ago? Did that fall through?

Me: ...Nope. Pretty sure I wasn't engaged.

Teacher: Oh. You were close, though, right?

Me: Nope. Not even close.

Teacher: Well, you're dating someone now, right?

Me: No

Teacher: Weren't you dating someone fairly recently?

Me: No sir.

Teacher: Oh. *beat* Those boys are just dumb.

Me: See ya!

In my head, I wanted to say, "Thanks for the feel-good conversation. We'll have to have another one of these soon."

Tribute to Goobers Everywhere

The ratio of Goobers to Normal people in a singles' ward is usually highly lopsided in favor of the Goobers. DRAT. Oh well. At least the Goobers do add a special dash of flavor to church activities...much like anchovy juice in Caesar dressing, or mold in cheese. :-) Let's face it, life just wouldn't be the same without the following conversations:

(Just to give you a mental picture, Boy #1--whom we'll refer to as Bill--has a very tall high forehead, thanks to hair loss. He wears glasses and doesn't smile. He talks in a very intense, slightly monotone voice. Think of Dwight Schrute from The Office. He is currently growing a big bushy beard, and when people ask him why he's growing said beard, he replies, in all seriousness, "I'm trying to look like Abraham Lincoln." ...Okay.... Boy #2, John, is pretty normal.)

Anyway, here's the conversation between Bill and John. John decided to complement Bill's maroon and gold tie.

John: I like your tie. It reminds me of Harry Potter.

Bill: (In his intense voice) What possible reasons would I have for wearing this tie?

John: Ummmm...

Bill: Reason #1--I look like Harry Potter. Reason #2--I attended the midnight release of the final Harry Potter book. Reason #3--These are the Gryffindor colors, and that's the house for which I would be selected. I also own the Slytherin tie.

John: Oh.


Ha ha. Taren overheard this conversation at one of our first ward functions, and it cracks me up to this day. These are the types of people who surround us, and will most likely be the only guys with enough gumption to ask us out on dates.



And people wonder why I'm not married? Hmmmmmm....

FIRE! (You'll eat a muffin. You'll eat a muffin and LIKE IT!)

(For those of you who don't get the above reference, please feel free to check out this lovely bit of YouTube fun. I don't know why it makes me laugh so hard....)

I've decided acid reflux is LAME. I keep thinking that it will magically just go away, but no such luck. Sure, I guess I could actually follow the doctor's advice and stop eating all those fire-in-the-chest-causing foods, (aka anything that is tasty) but let's be realistic. Do you really think I can give up chocolate?

*Jules blinks.*

Really?

I didn't think so.

So, I'm trying something new: Apple Cider Vinegar. Apparently, this stuff is really supposed to help. I'm skeptical. Plus, it's nasty. Will it still work if I hide it in chocolate? Hmmmm....

Is anyone else hungry for muffins?

Come to My Garden...

Sometimes I am overly ambitious when it comes to domestic pursuits.

Shocking, right?

Example: I am not a good cook. I know this. I am painfully aware of the fact that cooking is not my forte. Yet, sometimes I'll see a picture of something in a cook book and think, "Why, I am going to make that completely complicated recipe, and it's going to magically turn out to look exactly like the picture!"

Then, three hours later when I'm covered up to my elbows in some strange ingredient like "kirsch" or "bat bladder extract", my brain finally wakes up and says, "Wuh? Julianna, were you trying to cook again while I was asleep? Remember how you are not a world-class chef?" Oh. Right. So, what am I going to do now with the extra bottle of bat bladder extract I picked up at Costco? Hmmmmm. I guess I can always donate it to a pagan group so they can use it to make some sort of ceremonial potion or curse...whatever pagan groups do. (I'm always trying to give back to the community. I'm just really charitable like that.)

Well, I found out this week that my misplaced ambition also reaches out into another area--gardening.

There's a small "bit of earth" outside my apartment, and my room-mate Taren and I decided it would be fun to plant some flowers in an attempt to make the place a little more cheery. Maybe some flowers would attract some butterflies or hummingbirds...or friends...to our humble abode. You never know.

Anyway, off we went to buy an assortment of flora with which to spruce up the place. Now, did we go for the hearty, sensible plants that have been known to withstand even the most inept wannabe gardeners? Nope. Get those petunias away from me! I want the more exotic stuff! I have faith! I've read the bible! I know that all you need is to plant the seed, water it, and have faith that it will grow! (However, just in case faith wasn't enough, I bought some Miracle Grow.) I decided (foolishly) to try to grow some Gerber daisies.



Aw, pretty!

Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but apparently faith doesn't work on Gerber Daisies. In my opinion, Gerbers are the spoiled, whiney, 15-year old rich girls of the flower world. T-Minus 5 days later, they are drooping face down into the earth. It's sad, really, to see such happy-looking flowers just give up so quickly on life. Frankly, I'm offended. Is life in my little garden really THAT terrible? Suck it up, Gerber. I don't like you anymore. You are not invited to any of my social functions from here on out. *Jules folds her arms and pouts in the corner.*

Maybe I should just stick to growing dandelions. You don't ever hear of high-maintenance dandelions with attitude problems. I think we'll get along well.

Anyone who has been around me for the past month or so (which isn't a lot of people, seeing as how I've somehow been even more of a social recluse than usual) has no doubt noticed that I have been going through a "quarter-life crisis". My room-mate Taren even went out and bought a book with that title! Perfect. Maybe I should read it. :-)

Anyway, my apologies for being a whiney person who is constantly freaking out and yelling, "I'M ACCOMPLISHING NOTHING WITH MY LIFE!" while breathing frantically into a paper bag. Don't let it scare you away. I will figure things out soon. *Twitch*

Well, I shall leave you with my theme song, Jamie Cullum's "Twentysomething". I love it.