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Monday, December 15, 2008

Blissful Christmas

Every year I feel the magic of Christmas gradually fading. It makes me sad because I have a love for the magic season. I love Christmas more than I love dancing, books, clothes, and almost more than boys (sorry Warren). I love everything about Christmas: the tacky lights, the over sized homemade ornaments, fires, eggnog (which, by the way, is the only thing I can drink until I get sick and then go back for more), mistletoe, Santa stories, generously frosted Christmas cookies, claustrophobic kitchens and even the snow (we are are really good buddies now).

For an unknown reason, the magic of Christmas was beginning to come back to me this year.

I was determined to figure out why I originally lost a lot of the Christmas magic, I realized I think I was trying too hard to feel it in the first place. The magic of Christmas just has to come natural to you. If you pull on it too hard and want it too bad, then you’ll have a hard time surrounding yourself in its rich nutmeg smelling warmth. Don’t pull on it too hard, or you may not get it.

Perhaps it could also be partially due to the fact that this will be my first Christmas living away from home. Of course I’ll be driving the 2 miles to my parents house every day during the holidays, and doing such I’ll be listening to the sweet Christmas joys of the Duerden household. Typically, these include the arguing of my mother wanting my father to stop being such a Scrooge and my father retorting back that he needs to get his grading done, otherwise next year there will be no Christmas. Then my mother telling my sister Shannon and her husband that they can’t smoke in the front yard anymore because the neighbors are walking by. Maybe the fact that I have been away from all the Christmas preparations so far, I can finally begin to feel the excitement and magic. Up near BYU all there are right now is stress from finals and excitement that comes with the end of the semester. There are decorations here and there, but mostly all you hear are people being hushed by others all over campus by students trying to memorize every fact about existentialism, excretion, endoplasmic reticulum—the basic college stuff.

Could the reason for this newly found excitement be that now I am becoming less crazy and wild? Maybe now I can finally focus on the good and wonderful things about Christmas.

Whatever the reason is, I’m just glad I feel it’s here. This year I can feel Santa’s laugh and I know I am happy for the holidays. What a great excuse to spend a great time of year with the people you love.

Monday, December 8, 2008

Isn't Love Lovely?

Seeing my roommate and one of my best friends get ready for marriage has made me really start thinking about love. My roommate met her now fiancĂ© at church and a short 5 weeks later became engaged. After a two-month engagement they’re finishing off the final touches to their wedding taking place in a couple weeks. After knowing this guy for two weeks, my roommate seeking advice (after she concluded that she was in love with him) as to how she could find out if the feeling was mutual.

Now I have dated my fair share of guys and so I believe that was the reason she was asking me this question, but honestly there is no answer to that in my own opinion. Saying I love you should never be taken lightly. However, I think that if you are in love it should be easy to say and not something to stress about. Of course, every relationship is different and there really is no right answer.

One thing I find amazing about love is how many different kinds of love there are. I remember when I was little my brother, mother and I were sitting in the car and driving away from the airport. We ] just dropped off my father to go to London for 3 months. My mother seemed very sad and my brother picked up on this. He asked her why she was so sad? He didn’t understand because he loved my father too but wasn’t as upset as her. My mom explained to him, “Eric, there is a difference between loving someone and being in love with someone”.

The feeling of love is different in every circumstance. Think about all the people and things you love and the different ways in which you love them. I love my father, my bonsai tree, friends, macaroni and cheese, Shakespeare, black and white romance movies, dancing, running, Depot Bay Oregon, my freedom, recalling happy memories—and all of these I love with very different feelings. I think one needs to be careful not to fall in love with anything or anyone too deeply to the point of irrationality. A friend of mine told me a couple of weeks ago, “You should be in love if you get married, but you shouldn’t get married just because you are in love”. There are so many things to think about and consider when it comes to dealing with love rationally. In my opinion, love is the most important emotion and is powerful enough to fully engulf you. One needs to be careful and not let it take control of your logic.

I may be what some people call a ‘romantic’, however I think that there should be certain precautions when dealing with something as fragile as love. To find love, you should seek it out in every way possible. I’ve found that when I surround myself in and with love, then I find everything and everyone loving me back.

Wednesday, December 3, 2008






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Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Fhrenheit 451 and Stinky Salmon

So this might be mostly fiction but enjoy.

My family loves each other. We most likely always will. However, my mother’s attempt one summer to bring our family all together by going on a two-week trip could have pulled us apart. You see, my family is not your average Provo Utah Mormons. We are very mush the opposite of the conservative ridiculously large in numbers, Bush-loving republican hunters. There are one of the only things (outside of basic human needs) that bring us together.
I was excited to get way from Provo and take a nice trip to the Oregon Coast but my sister Annelise started changed that we I started walking down the stairs.
“Is it really necessary to wear make up, do your hair all cute and dress up nice when you’re planning on spending the day in a car where no boys will see you?” I had known it was coming as i had knows it would be coming every morning, but the repetitive and obnoxious manner in which she nagged me bothered me nonetheless.
“Sorry, just a habit now,” I said too tired to explain that just as she preferred to wear no make up (because she believes it exploits all woman and gives more of a power advantage to men over us) i prefer to wear it. Annelise, who had gone to Palestine and tagged the wall with Langston Hughes quotes translated into perfect arabic preferred to “save the world” and writing poetry and novels.
“Lindsay, don’t listen to her,” I heard my brother say, jumping to my rescue from behind the living room doors we stood in front of, “I think you look very sexy today.”
“Why thank you”, was my reply and I opened the door to see him sprawled out across the largest couch, with his moccasins, grey skinny jeans, tight blue t-shirt with an underground indie rock band name and a dinosaur on it and one inch gages in his ear. He resembled the exact opposite of my sister standing next to me, now with a frown on her face.
My mother running down the stairs and into the kitchen said, “Eric that was very inappropriate. Don’t refer to your sister as being “sexy”, of anyone in that case,” she said with a revolted look on her face. “But at least good job at being positive, although Lindsay, your sister is right, I mean you didn’t need to bring more than your father, sister Eric and me in luggage”. I thought that was no fair since Eric was bringing his guitar and all of this art supplies.
And then with my sister’s smile returning to her face i replied in a sarcastic tone, “Well, I had to bring me stilettos just in case we fun into Brad Pitt and he asks me out for dinner.”
Although I had to admit I did pack a lot, but my bags were not full of large amounts of clothes but C.D.’s, movies, a personal DVD player, a journal, writing book, sketch pad, about eight books ranging from poetry to science fiction to How To Do Ti Chi, four fashion magazines, who Ipods, and absolutely anything else that would keep me distrackted and enertained while on the two-week long trip.
Normally our family goes on trips to England and fills up our time wth castles, catherals, plays, the Shakespearean houses and more, my father guides us through it all reading the original Latin plus Middle English as we go and translating it to us correctly (unlike the signs that are often so very incorrect). But this yearit was my mother’s idea to finally have a vacation where we were to do absolutely nothing. We might go out and go whale watching and maybe shopping but there was no real need to so anything at all.
Trying to avoid another obnoxious conversation I sauntered into the kitchen to see if I could help my mother with packing the snack basket. I could tell when I walked in by her slumped shoulders and teary eyes that this might not be a good idea. I’d just seen my father leaving with big paw prints on the shoulders of this favorite King Lear shirt to take the dogs to the kennel. My mother loved our two German Shepherds so much that I though she was going to explode when my father told us that we had to leave them behind because the resort did not allow pets of any kind there. She did not only love the dogs, although she’d written articles on how to save them, and of course gone out and done just that. We have had numerous pets from a blue and gold macaw to hedgehogs, and she frequently told people about how the only reason for having bable was ffor Animal Planet although no other animals could match our dogs. Quickly turning on my heels and leaving her to mourn alone i walked back into the living room where my second sister Shannon now sat on the coach opposite my brother.
I could not see her face from behind the Quantum Physics book she was holding up to her nose but could imagine her thick glasses and slightly squinted blue eyes concentrating hard on the pages in front of them. Her shirt read “Heisenberg might have been here.” After I had repeated her name a good four times she finally recognized my existence and smiled at me for a brief second before popping back down into her book.
My father pulled into the drive way and I was finally able to have some task to keep myself busy and not think about the melancholy trip that was about to take place. After loading the car and piling into it I put my head phones on and tired to ignore the sounds of my brother’s snoring, my sisters deep conversation on Bush’s empty efforts to prevent global warming, and my mothers yelling at my father because he had not noticed her telling him to stop and pull over because there was stray dog in the road because he was too absorbed in his book he was reading while driving.
When I woke I could feel the sun shining brightly on my face. I looked up to see my reflection in the window of the car and the scenery passing behind it. Everyone was peacefully asleep or reading quietly. Peace warmed me and i fell back into unconsciousness. We stopped three times to take bathroom breaks and eat meals at some local cafes. I could tell we were getting closer by the rising amount of fish on the menus.
We finally stopped at a hotel to rest after ten hours of driving and we all fell straight into bed. There were not even any arguments over turning the lamp off because someone was reading and Eric had stopped saying outrageous things just for the sake of shaking things up. Sitting in the car all day and doing nothing for some reason had strangely exhausted all of us.
The only change in the nest day form the last was that we all switched seats, and it felt as dull as ever until we finally reached it-the ocean. It was wide and dar the cloulds lingered closely aboive it waiting until the sun went down to mesh with the waves and the currents. My mother insisted on opening all of the windows so we could smell the fresh sea air and when we finally reached our resort she insisted on leaving the windows there open too, making our little apartment about fifty degrees and everyone freezing but smelling the ocean breezes.
We all stayed up quietly watching the ocean rock our minds land imaginations to sleep. It was peaceful and careless. The ocean did not care about war, the president, the Middle East, or any politics for that matter (except maybe global warming). It didn’t care about books, German Shepherds, Quantum physics, or even “Branjolina”. We all fell asleep on the floor next to each other depending on the other’s body heat.
The next morning while eating our cereal my father came in from the balcony coughing.
“The neighbors on the porch next to us are smoking cigars and blowing them, I think purposefully at us into our open windows.” He seemed a little shocked that someone would be so inconsiderate. But my brother, two sisters and I loooked at each other and smiled. It was the beginning.
“Mum, you don’t happen to have any perfume with you do you?” said Eric after he had peeled his eyes away from ours.
“No Eric, you aren’t going to spray them down with my perfume!” my mother responded as she frowned.
“I swear I wont spray them. I will just spray it in their direction. If the wind is blowing in the right direction it will carry it..”
“ERIC I SAID NO!” But we weren’t done trying yet.
“Um. Mum, I was wondering if you brought in that fish from the store last night. I wanted to thaw it for tonight. You don’t mind if I cook for you today do you?” My dear sister Shannon was always great at getting her way and being brilliant at it too. My mother of course was not a stupid person and could see the truth right away but just smiled and went into the freezer and pulled out two cod and one salmon.
“Thank you, just make sure that you open up the package a little and place it under the sun on the patio table closets to the neighbors. I think it will thaw better there.”
We all rushed outside, and placed it exactly where she said and waited until we hear their complaints, and still left it there. Shannon explained the thawing process and what biological breakdown was occurring to cause the release of the chemicals causing the odor.
Soon they were blasting music and so we decided to play karaoke and have a pillow fight and dodge ball with the wall we shared with them. At this point mother, father, sisters, and brother call joined in and planned what was to be our last and final attack before they checked out.
My sister having visited the used bookstore had found an old copy of Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451 for fifty cents and when our neighbors left to go swimming Eric and Shannon distracted them on their way our by saying that there was some animal in the dumpster and thought it had bitten one of them. While trying to move around my family members and ignore what we knew they would think of as a brank, my other sister Annelise and I slipped into their room and jumped into the coat closet behind the door as they began to shut it.
Annelist with book in hand walked over the microwave and I rushed over to the balcony to watch the pool. We waited a few minutes, hearts pounding and adrenaline rushing, as we waited for them, and then I saw them, large white balls splashing water everywhere in the pool and then float almost helplessly.
“NOW!” I whispered loudly to Annelise and she placed the book in the microwave and turned it on high for three minutes.
We were forty three seconds into when Annelise’s cell phone began to vibrate, she was about to turn it off when she noticed it was my mother and picked it up so fast that she almost dropped it.
“Foury five seconds and counting Mum...yeah..it’s already on fire. The smoke’s covering the room. I know you said no but I can’t really stop that now..what?! Good frick! Yeah, were coming now!”
We both ran out onto the porch, praying that we didn’t get caught and hopped over the small fence and ran safely inside our apartment. Right as we closed our porch door we heard the beginning of the screaming.
And as our family sat together watching the ocean and reading our books in peace an quiet except for my mother’s interruptions on occasion to explain the vibes of the whales n the ocean, I realized, I love them. It was on odd feeling to be so happy and content with being a part of a crazy democratic, Shakespeare watching, anit-war family sitting all together with our individually, pre-ordered from one thousand miles away, copies of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. And I knew as I know today that even something so simple as a old copy of Fahrenheit 451 can bring a family as strange as ours together.

Sunday, November 30, 2008

Leftover make up and nostalgic nights

In the morning (or afternoons, lately), when I wake up, one may tell what happened to me the night before by mere observation of time and appearance. If I wake between the hours of 8am-10am, this means I had a very boring night and retreated to bed early, due to lack of happening events. (This happens very infrequently). If I wake between the hours of 12pm-2pm, I had a really great night full of friends, lots of exercise, good food, and any illegally obtained movie on the internet to put me to sleep when I get home around 3. 

Now the time of when I wake up  gives subtle indicators, but the biggest giveaways are my hair and smeared makeup. If I have a good night where I stay up long past the time I naturally would have fallen asleep and exhausted myself, I wake up in the morning looking exactly the same way as I did when I hit the sack. I am normally so tired that I don't move at all in my sleep. It's the smeared makeup on my face and pillow, as well as my messy, unpredictable hair that gives away a restless and uneasy sleep. 
Nighttime seems almost magical to me. Deep conversations flow easily and emotions seem to float effortlessly in the air. Most people find my nocturnal habits peculiar, but I find them very suiting to me. I love the feeling of knowing most everyone around me is unconscious  and dreaming. It's not that it gives me a sense of power or loneliness, but it makes me feel like the world has just naturally created a time for everything to sleep and me to think and write alone when everything is peaceful. This sense of nirvana is what I love and I find it awaiting me every night when I come back to my apartment. It feels like the nostalgia you get when thinking of your first kiss (the foot popping one), the first snow or summer nights with your friends.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Thanksgiving+Family=Bleached Burned Fingers and Inappropriate Jokes

Thanksgiving+Family=Bleached Burned Fingers and Inappropriate Jokes:


My least favorite part of every holiday is the preparation. For those of you who might know my mother (which I am sure is a lot due to her teaching Jr. High and High for for many years) might have seen a little glimpse of her obsession with cleaning. Now I love my mother but I do see that she has a slight problem with wanting to see her reflection in everything from the table to the floors to to to dogs. She loves everything to glitter and smell either like Mr. Clean or bleach at all times. Whenever a holiday comes around the cleaning begins. 
Now most people when cleaning a house will vacuum the house, wipe down the counters, put everything away and make sure that the bathroom that will be used by quests is clean. This is very normal, but for my mother this isn't even close to clean enough. All furniture is moved cleaned and cleaned around, windows are removed and cleaned, spices are re-alphabetized , the tile is bleached down and brushed multiple times with at toothbrush, all the rooms are scrubbed clean (even the garage), all walls are washed from top to bottom, the dogs are shampooed 3 times and conditioned twice, and more. Now this might seem like I am exaggerating but I have done all of these chores in my life, preparing for the holidays. 
This holiday season, although I still do not live at home I have still been asked to come and help clean, which I am more than willing to do. So on my way to my parents house I made sure I had a full stomach, gloves to protect my fingers from the bleach (my mother didn't believe me I am allergic too even though it always makes me throw up), my iPod with full batteries and a smile on my face ready to spend at least 5-6 hours helping out. 
After all of the cleaning is when my family can finally relax. My oldest sister Shannon normally sit and talks about her exciting chemistry, biology or math glasses or explaining how one should be able to receive an ecclesiastical endorsement from a tree, while her husband Ken tells inappropriate jokes or talks about the latest Quinton Tarentino film. There son Liam normally just plays on his own (Liam who once asked me when I took him to a museum at the age of 9 if i saw the irony of a cougar and a wolverine sitting next to each other and then when I asked if he wanted to be a cougar and go to BYU or be a wolverine and go to UVU like his mother to which he replied "Lindsay, I am going to Harvard to become an Egyptologist") or sits and listens to my father talk about politics (this year I believe it will hold more of a blissful note than the previous 8). My other sister, Annelise normally sits and voices her opinions along with my father and tells of her experiences in Palestine while my mother putters in the background finishing the 9 pies she is making for 13 people that will disappear somehow in 1 hour of finishing the feasts regardless of the extreme pain our stomachs are all experiencing.  My brother normally sits next to me with his tattoos and gages pulling them out of his ears and trying to force other to smell them. We then argue until we are either separated or one of us locks the other in bathroom, but then they get to avoid doing the dishes. 
All in all holidays are very eventful and full of many surprises. Although, my family is wacky and crazy I can not help but love the warmth of their love and laughter every holiday season.  I am very thankful for them all and love them all dearly. I think if it wasn't for my family I wouldn't know how to bake amazing tarts, write better than a 3rd grader (at least I hope), swear at inanimate objects because they have failed me yet again, properly clean ceilings, care for animals weighing over 100 lbs and read Shakespeare for hours without ever getting bored. I love my family and I think that this Thanksgiving we should all take a break to look back at all of the reasons we love them, regardless of their political stances, tattoos, obsessions and their excessive amounts of emotions on insignificant matters.  

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone!