A Snapshot Of Ken

I flew into Phoenix yesterday for a conference, and I'll be here until Thursday.  I can't think if this has been the longest I've been away from SML, but for some reason seems like less time than the morning of the Fourth of July, when I thought I was going to lose it if SML wasn't home before eleven o'clock in the morning. 

My low stress level on this trip is probably due to being completely out of Utah.  I had an overwhelming Mormon experience this weekend when SML's brother's baby was being blessed.  I'm generally less annoyed during these endeavors, but the religion seemed incredibly magnified being in someone's home. You can easily tell if you are in a Mormon home by the placement of temple images every four feet or framed messages like, "Families Can Be Together Forever."  You know, if you're a Mormon.

During the testimony portion of this event I felt like cutting off my ears with the keys I had in my pocket.  I'll spare you the details as to why, but at one point I raised my voice at SML about the so-called "support" that we should show.  He said that moments before I was introduced as SML's "friend" and my face became contorted and evil.  Never before I have felt this way, or cared about titles, until I began watching the Logo series 'First Comes Love.'  And now it does matter because where has everyone been the last two years?  I'm a tag-along friend now?  I'm moving to Boston because I have nothing better to do?

SML immediately noticed that I was on the verge of going on a verbal attack and quickly announced we would not be staying for the meal.  We left looking very rushed using the excuse that I had to pack for this Phoenix trip.  And maybe I was overreacting, or maybe I'm just starting to care about these things now.  All I know is I was livid and had I not quickly exited the home I would have thrown a glass temple figurine through the window and then flipped everyone off as I exited the culdesac.  

SML's assistant manager and a volunteer named Liza threw him a going away party last Friday night. The party was up Emigration Canyon, where Liza and her husband live, in what I can only describe as the most perfect, beautifully decorated home.  I was prepared for a mansion of sorts, but I was totally unprepared to witness such paradise in the mountains of Utah.

The most shocking part of the whole night was when it became cold enough to need a jacket, which was definitely a nice change from the weather we've been having in Utah.  I even shivered at times but only wanted to shout out through my chattering teeth, "I AM LOVING THIS." 

We were finally able to take the E-Collar off of Charlotte, something that was incredibly hard for me to keep on her for ten days.  I took this picture just before the surgery after she had claimed the entire chair.  She jumps up onto this chair when I'm sitting at the computer and wedges herself in-between myself and the back of the chair.  When I lean forward to give her more room, she sticks her paw down my coin slot, something I'm sure she learned from SML.

On Saturday I took my Niece and Nephew to Liberty Park while my sister was using a sledge hammer to remodel her bathroom.  My sister suggested I swing the hammer around to take out any pent up frustrations, which would have been a great thing to do had I had the confidence I could actually lift the hammer high enough to swing.

I sent a text message to SML while I was at the park that read, "Under no circumstances are we to have children."  Because for the three hours that I had these kids, I became so exhausted, so unbelievably anxious to get home and have an iced tea, and so something else that I can't even think of the words to describe it.  And although they make up for their terror in cuteness, I don't think I'll ever have enough energy to match theirs.

We took Charlotte to the Kitty Hospital yesterday for boosters and the DECLAWING.  A quick internet search on this practice will tell you how inhumane I am, but if you saw what she was doing to my green chair you'd have a completely different perspective.

We got her home this morning and watched as she ran into things with her E-Collar. SML handled this whole thing a lot different than I was expecting him to, because when we met I was always under the impression he didn't even like cats.  But when we dropped her off yesterday, SML looked at me with welled eyes and asked, "Do you think you can work from home tomorrow so you can be with her?"

And well, here I am; keeping Charlotte company. 

Mormon Actor Does Beer Commericial

I think the best part of this article is where it discusses the hate mail he's been receiving from his fellow saints. 

SML is determined to make this kitty love him more than me, and insists that I do things like the vacuuming and the throwing of the kitty across the room when we need to leave the apartment.  Okay, okay, I don't "throw" the kitty, I lightly toss her. And then slam the door before she knows what has happened.

SML and I went to Pride on Sunday morning, first stopping off at Starbucks and FedEx Kinkos to print off Pride Tickets.  SML and I have serious problems refilling our printer's ink cartridges and instead decided to suffer through printing from a Kinko's OS X 10.3 machine, which was almost like using Windows 98.

I don't really have much to say about Pride this year, I think we were there for maybe an hour and a half.  I'm just kind of posting random pictures.  I saw some people I haven't seen in awhile, a woman showed off her hairy armpits, and I got sunburned. That hairy armpit part was particularly disturbing, because she exposed her armpit near my face and then said, "I'm like you guys!"  A blood vessel in my eye almost burst when that happened because seriously, what the hell?

The day before Pride my mother noticed that Pride was being set up at Washington Square and asked, "Are you guys supposed to be over there?"  That question is hilarious by itself, but she really wanted to know if we were volunteering for Pride.  I had to tell her that I don't volunteer anymore, for anything, ever since I developed an aversion to real people.