Visceral | Elyse Georgeson

Rereading Wuthering Heights has been a disturbing event. The book is filled with characters that I hate—I can’t understand why anyone would act that way. Yet, though I hate the book, I keep reading. Why? Because these characters, though they are so awful and mean spirited, are alive. I want to find out what happens. What happens with Heathcliff? Many times I’ve tossed the book aside in frustration with these ill-behaved people. As I toss the book aside, I scream, “Why can’t you people play nice? Why do you always have to get revenge? Don’t you know you’re not the center of the universe?” Of course, no one answers back. How can they? They’re just characters in a book that were never physically alive. But their deeds and misdeeds haunt me until I find out just what happens to them all. It’s been fascinating, delving into their world of deceit and distrust, but it’s always a breath of fresh air when I come back into my own.

Visceral | Beth McGraw

The other day at my work (I work in fast food, not ideal but it pays the bills) I was cleaning out the grease traps under the grill. Not a huge deal, kind of gross, but I just had to dump both pans together into a larger bucket.
Then a co-worker and I had to take the larger bucket outside to the barrel behind the restaraunt. This is where all the grease is eventually emptied into so as to not clog up drains or anything like that. When I lifted the lid to this barrel a horribly rancid smell hit me and I could just see insided where there was a crumbly looking build up of grease. Some was stuck to the lid looked kind of like stalacites in a cave or something. It was actually pretty cool looking but all the same I still stay away from fast food.

Visceral | Katherine Nielson

There is something unnatural about piercing. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy a good pair of earrings just like the next girl. But the fact that one tortures ones body in the name of beauty is odd, and slightly ghastly, especially when there is more metal visible than there is skin.

I was privileged to see a wonderful specimen of piercing on my last trip to Provo, last weekend. I was sitting on a bench at the Provo Town Center mall, when a guy walked by. His ears were invisible under an excess of spikes and rings. His nose was pierced as were his eyebrows, lip and tongue. His body was covered with black tattoos, and he wore a spiked collar around his neck. I couldn’t help but study the mass of metal sticking through his body. I kept wondering what he was thinking by doing that to his body?

It reminded me of pictures I used to study as a child of tribal piercing, the kind where the warriors pierced their lower lip, and then slowly enlarge it over the years, until a tusk, or a log can fit in it. These pictures always repulsed and interested me.

Visceral | Mara Lefler

I have been looking everywhere for something that could be considered visceral. I haven't really been able to find a very good example except for one thing. Yesterday when I wasn't even thinking about this assignment it hit me. I was having a great day the weather was beautiful and things where great. While I was walking on campus I met one of my friends. Her day was just the opposite of mine. I wont get into the story because it isn't mine to tell. I was looking at my friend and she was crying. She had huge clumps of mascara running down her face and sticking to her eyelashes. Black everywhere, and all you ladies know what that is like. Its not a pretty picture. The most amazing thing about it was that even with all the makeup I could still see the tears glisten on her eyelashes. The sun hit them just perfectly making her eyes glow. It really was visceral to see something come out her sadness and tears. They looked like diamonds on her lashes.

Visceral | Jenny Sorensen

I always wonder about how I would be able to get along if I had a deformity or some kind of mental problem. I work with this girl who just amazes me. Her body has never grown to the full size. She is the size of like a two year old. She has her own wheelchair that moves her around and helps her reach things. She is married and is totally independent. I am amazed at her great attitude because her body is all bent and in weird shapes. I can't imagine being that way. But I can't believe how well she runs her life!

Visceral| Raymond Wadsworth

I don't know what it is about me and toilets, but it just gets better all of the time. I work as a cashier at the Cedar Shell (great place to meet friends, have a drink, and see some nasty things). Well, one day it was a my turn to clean the mens restroom, can you see where this is heading? Well, when I went in there, there was a surprise waiting for me.

I walked in and there was poop on the walls and door of the stall. It was disgusting! Who does that? I thought to myself. Well, you mustn't ever let an opportunity like this to pass without recieving all of the benefits. So, I called all of my fellow employees over to see this wonderful sight. They couldn't resist. They knew what was coming, yet they agreed and followed through. The particular pattern was the most amusing, or so we all thought. I think that the guy wanted to make some pyrogliphs (sp) or something. Anyway, it was nasty yet funny. At the end I felt like Bill Murray in Caddyshack, "it's not so bad."

Visceral | Christie Fordham

After receiving this assignment, I kept my eyes peeled for something that would be perfect. Right after the class as I walking on campus I saw something that absolutely amazed me but made my stomach churn at the same time. There was a young lady that looked like a walking toothpick. She almost looked anorexic. Her attire didn't really bother me until I saw the belt buckle. To tell you the truth, the belt buckle was the first thing I noticed. This thing had to be the size of a platter. I am not exaggerating at all. Someone could have served vegtables on this thing. It was bright silver with a gold fringe that had engravings on it. I'm surprised I couldn't read the engravings because I think people could rent it out for a billboard.


Now the reason I think this is visceral is not the fact that she was wearing it, heaven knows I have no right to be judging someone else's attire, it was what happened in my mind after I saw her. How in the world could she sit down with this huge thing attached to her? It had to dig into her legs or stomach somewhere! My heart went out to her but I couldn't look away because it was so shiny and absolutely attracting my attention. After I passed her I had realized that she probably thought it was strange that I was staring right at her waist.

Visceral | Brynn Bowthorpe

I thought that the rainstorm the other day was completely beautiful, except for one thing:

While enjoying the cleansing rain and walking back from class, I thought nothing of the construction work going on outside of my building. I admired the small dots of wet on the sidewalk and basked in the fresh scent. To save effort, I decided to cut across the grass. This was my mistake. With the rain and the construction work combined, the grass had become saturated and squishy. When I surfaced back on the sidewalk, my pants were wet to my shins and my shoes were caked in mud and wet stucco. The wet pants I can handle, and I am usually not gossed out by mud, but this dirt is the reddish brown clay sand dirt native to southern Utah, and once you step in it-- your shoes are never the same, its like stepping in dog poop. And the sound it makes when trying to "walk it off" -- or scrape it off on the sidewalk: a nausiating scratching squelching! Its disgusting and frusturating.

On the other hand, though-- once I got back up to my apartment and cleaned off the mud, I looked out the window at where the workers keep their materials in the corner of the parking lot: a great wash of mud marinated the entire space, with a fair amount of wet dirt heaped in a hill. Despite what I had just been through with my shoes, a part of me wanted to run out there barefoot and squish the mud through my toes, throw mud-balls at my roommates, and laugh at the drenching rain. Luckily, I restrained myself.

Visceral | Matt Nielsen

I got one for ya...

So there I am, the first week of school, going to lab. I have an electronics lab tuesdays and thursdays that lasts 2 1/2 hours. Anyway, I get there and I am assigned a new lab partner. I will withhold his name to protect the innocent. Well, we got started and right away I knew there was going to be problems. First off, I don't have many pet-peaves, and I like to think that I can work with about anyone. This comes from years in the Army having to learn to work with many different people with many different personalities. There is one thing that I cannot stand, though. People who stink. Have you ever lived or worked with someone who just stinks? Whether it is B.O. , whether they appear to have never heard of a toothbrush, or even if it is just a mystery stink, it drives me crazy! So anyway, we get working and already this dude is bothering me. Then, when he turns to talk to me, his breath almost knocks me over. I swear somebody died in his mouth. Not only did this dude have nasty trash breath, his B.O. was horrid. Being the good trooper that I am I just smiled and endured for 2 hours until the lab was over, after which I went home and took a shower just in case any of it got on me.

These people make me wonder. Do they not realize how bad their problem is? Did nobody teach them how to brush their teeth growing up? Did nobody teach them the importance of showers and deoderant? I can't go a day without washing myself and brushing my teeth. I just feel nasty. How others do it is beyond me, but it truly is one of the very few things that makes me want to hurl.

Fortunatly for me somebody must have said something to him, because it hasn't been a probem since.

Visceral | Roma Peddle

While I lived in California this summer, I was very aware of the homeless problems in each area. It was not only because there were so many of them, but probably more because I grew up in So. Tah, and haven't really seen my share of homeless. Even though they all share the same common problem, the difference between each of them is how they got there. I know each of them has a story. Not all of them have drug or alcohol problems which confined them to the streets; which was why it was so hard for me to just look away like the majority of Californians habitually do. Seeing these people would give me the worst feeling, and even though we were totally broke in Cali, Tiff and I did our best to give these people what we could. We tried to avoid giving cash, since we'd been told not to by most Californians and we heard that some of the people on the streets aren't even really homeless, and that they just stand out there for drug money. So most of the time, we'd order an extra taco or hamburger and offer it to whoever we saw on the streets that day. We knew that the ones who were thrilled to receive it really needed it, but those who declined our offer were probably the ones that "fake" livin’ on the streets (as ridiculous as that may seem). All in all, each person was impossible to just ignore, and we couldn't help feel pity on every single one of them.

Visceral | Jordan Peace

While watching the Japanese horror film Audition a few nights ago I noticed a lump on the back of my left leg. My immediate though was "Dear God I have cancer." Of course I've found many lumps and bumps throughout my life and as of yet none of them have proven to be cancer, lucky me. As I went over to my mirror I found that this particular lump was a massive boil, for those of you who don't know what a boil is think of it as a tremendous pimple that is extrodianrily sore. After picking at it for an hour or so I decided that I would pop it, later I would learn that this decision had both positive and negitive consequences. Appearently boils get even sorer after being popped.

I sat down on my folding chair, grabbed hold of the boil, gritted my teeth, and squeezed. After a few seconds of agonizing pain I felt it pop and the pressure release. Being juvenile, as I often am, I wanted to see the contents of my now empty boil. Upon bringing my hand into view my eyes met a scene that would seem perfectly at ease in a work of Tom Savini. An unbelieveable amount of blood covered my hand and trickled down my arm. I was fasinated by the former contents of my leg. As I inspected the blood I noticed that there were what appeared to be clumps or clots of blood resting peacefully in the palm of my hand. Normally I wouldn't consider a fistful of blood leaking down my arm a thing of beauty, but this particular fistful of blood struck me as just that beautiful in a very graphic way.

Visceral | Karalee Dearden

I am on the verge of tears this morning. Last night, my roomate had a nervous breakdown. She has bipolar disorder, and recently told me that she hadn't been taking her medicine. Since Monday this week, I have noticed that things were bad, and have been trying to get her to take them. She wouldn't talk, she wanted to quit her job because she was scared to go. But last night, things reached a peak. We went out to dinner with a friend, and she kept getting worse as the night went on. She was either refusing to talk, or talking so fast you couldn't understand her. We were at Wal-Mart when things hit rock bottom. She was shaking all over because she had anxiety. She didn't know what she was scared of, or why she was freaking out, and she almost cried when she was paying for the movie she bought. So I made her call my dad. He told me to do what I had already been trying to, "Get her to take her meds." When we got off the phone, she refused to go back to our apartment and take her medicine. She shut down after that, and wouldn't say a word. It was torture trying to get her to nod or shake her head. After an hour, we talked her into going to the emergency room. Even then, she kept coming up with excuses not to go. " I have a test in the morning.", " My mom and stepdad will be mad." And when we finally got her there, she kept trying to edge her way away from the checkin desk. The whole experience was scary. I didn't know what to do. I mostly stood back and watched while her friend took control of things. But I couldn't leave her alone. I couldn't stop watching her. Because at the same time, everything was interesting. If I had been a stranger watching from afar, I don't think I would have been able to look away.

Visceral | Cassidy Berlin

My job this summer consisted of teaching people how to drive boats at Lake Powell. On occasion I would drive a boat over to the fuel dock to get topped off before a customer went to use it. One particular day I was walking around the fuel dock waiting for the fuel attendant to finish putting oil in my boat, when I took a glance at the water. All I could see was carp. Carp, if you don’t know, are the ugliest, stupidest, most disgusting fish you will ever see. They are big and slimy with a mucky greenish brown tint to their scales. All they ever do is swim around and eat the fuel that falls into the water from the boats. Had there been just one carp swimming in the water I might have just kept walking. But the fact that there were so many of this one ugly creature swarming around like vultures in the water made me stand there and just stare. If you don’t get what I’m saying, take for example a bee. If you saw one bee buzzing around you wouldn’t think much of it. But when you see an entire beehive something about it just draws you in. It makes you tingle to see many of something weird all in one area at one particular moment.

Visceral | Jillene Stark

I saw a man walking down the path that goes into the canyon, who had looked like he might have been crying he stopped, sat down on a bench and just started to wail. I had been walking up the canyon for some exercise but this made me stop and stare at him, I didn't know what was wrong or even want to find out what was wrong I could only stare at this man. Society has told us men are supposed to be strong, but there he was just weeping and balling over something that I wasn’t even curious about. I was close enough to catch the color of his eyes, the water running through those eyes turned them into an emerald green. As I noticed his eyes he looked up at me wondering why I was not moving and just staring, but I was so entranced in his eyes I stayed and stared. He stared back and stopped his crying. We just stared at each other for a couple of minutes I soon realized what I was doing, apologized and kept on walking trying not to confront the matter at hand.

Sublime | Roma Peddle

As quoted from Desiderata, "Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence." Which couldn't be truer, since most people find the most peace in silence. But in my case, my peace is found in music. The other day after a full load of homework was finally completed, the best thing I could think of doing to unwind was to sit in my room and listen to some music. This seems very broad to be something sublime, but music is where I find sublimity. Listening to lyrics and trying to figure out what the singer or band is trying to project to the public is a great fascination of mine. Musicians are the true poets of today.

Sublime | Laura Spencer

I was the end of a long day, and I still had a ton of homework to do. My roomate was already working busily on her math problems. As I came in, she looked up from her book and we exchanged mutual grimaces of sympathy. I dropped my bag off in my room, fixed myself a snack, and then I too sat down near my roomate and applied myself to my homework. We sat in near silence. Both absorbed in our own worlds, our thoughts miles away from that room.

After a time, I looked up and suddenly was filled with the most amazing sensation of calm and content. I laughed softly in suprise. My roomate glanced up at me, and I could tell, she felt it too. She said, "Isn't it crazy that we can be so perfectly happy just to sit and do homework?" I grinned back at her, and we went on with our work. The silence pooled out around us in slow ripples. In that moment, my roomate and I, though studying completely different subjects, and without speaking, were closer than we have ever been. It was as if we had achieved a momentary unity with one another and the world around us.

Sublime | Brynn Bowthorpe

The darkness was a deep navy on I-15 North from St. George as I drove home Thursday night. I was by myself in the car, listening to something jazzy in the stereo, and welcomed the free time to think. As my car surfaced a hill, I was awestruck by the moon: it was larger than I had ever seen, and rather than its usual milky white, it was glazed a golden yellow. My first impulse was to call my roommates and tell them to go outside to witness the truly sublime sight, but I resisted the impulse to fumble for my phone. Instead, I just gazed out my windshield at the golden spot in the sky, appreciating my good fortune to see such a sublime sight.

Sublime | Brittany Hoffman

Motherhood is sublime in every sense of the word. While walking through campus I saw something so simple and lovely, the only way to describe it was sublime. A mother and her two little boys were walking and you could see the mother was in a hurry to be somewhere and the boys were slowing her down. The boys were playing with each other as little boys do and trying to keep up with their mother at the same time, when the younger of the two boys tripped and fell flat on his face. The fall looked brutal, but to my surprise, the little boy did not cry. He barely even made a sound. The mother, in a hurry, immediately responded but in a way I had never seen before. She turned around and her whole look changed. Instead of being late for something very important, she was in mother mode. She helped the little boy to his feet and brushed him off and kissed his forehead and they were on their way. This simple display warmed me because I knew this little boy knew that he was loved and I knew he wasn’t begging for attention because he had gotten a fair amount. I could also see this little boy’s future- an independent young man able to deal with his own problems and not afraid to take on the world because someone would always be there to catch him if he fell.

Sublime | Chelsea Hinckley

Tuesday evening was the first time, during my brief stint in Cedar City, that it rained. Or even showed any acclimate weather at all, for that matter. As I came out of my friend's apartment, who is also from Minnesota, we looked at eachother and almost started to cry. The lack of harsh weather here is slightly troublesome to us. Always seventy degrees and sunny...obnoxious. I was having a really rough day, and I talked my friend out of going to her rehearsal so we could slide down the mountain for a nighttime trip to St. George. I needed to drown my sorrows in an overstuffed enchilada-style burrito and a tres leches. I have a theory: Cafe Rio can solve all of life's problems. Before we left to return home, we decided to take a stroll around the temple grounds. As we sat there in the rain, watching the faint lightning off behind our shoulders, smelling the familiar aroma of a wet-earth home, I thought this is it. This must be it.

Sublime | Cassidy Berlin

I play for the women’s soccer team here at SUU. And although I love to win games, take out players on the other team and score goals, etc… traveling is my favorite part about being on this team. Ever since I moved out to Utah, from Indiana, I’ve been in love with the landscapes. Just the other week we had a game in Arizona. So we loaded up the vans and headed out! An hour into the trip I took a look around and found that I was the only one who wasn’t totally passed out in my van. Although I was tired, I had to keep myself from falling asleep because I have discovered something about road trips in the West. Mountains never look the same. It doesn’t matter how many times you travel from Cedar City to St. George. I swear that the trip always looks different every time you drive it. The sun always sets or rises just a bit differently on those mountaintops. So, as we were making our drive through the southern part of Utah I found myself gazing out the window the whole time, examining each detailed rock formation and all the different pigments of color in every mountain. No music, no talking… just the sound of our car cutting through the wind and rubber wheels hitting cement.

Sublime Beth McGraw

During a rain storm the other evening I was going up a hill near my house when I happened to look back over my shoulder out over the valley. I could see it raining in the distance, towards Enoch. I love the way the clouds seem to be falling to the earth in long streams when you look at a storm in the distance. This was particularly beautiful because of the way the sun was shining behind the streaks.

Sublime | Elyse Georgeson

I basked in the warm morning sun one day, trudging to school. About halfway there, I noticed a sudden lack of warmth. As a concerned citizen, I looked up to see what evil thing had taken the sun and warmth away from a poor college student. I beheld the proverbial, and semi-permeable cloud. Instead of silver lining the cloud, the sun turned it to a brilliant white gold. As opposed to being a uniform gray with no character whatsoever, the cloud was distinctive with patterns and swirls illuminated from behind. “Seeing this was worth the discomfort of my lost warmth,” I mused. But, as it always does and always will, the cloud continued on its course, and as for me, I took up my journey once again. It seems that perfect moments never last, not for art, nor emotion, nor my sake as I went to class.

Sublime| Raymond Wadsworth

I love to watch the sunset. I'm from a small town and the sunsets there are incredible. I have a special place up in the mountains where I go to watch the sunset and try to better myself and find answers in my life. The other day, while I was as home, I went to my spot and just relaxed. I heard some movement in some brush about 15 or 20 yards from where I was sitting and a doe and a fawn came out of the brush. I watched as they played with each other. My presence didn't seem to bother them; nor theirs me. We watched the sunset together that day and I was so thankful for the world in which we live.

I still have that moment in the back of my mind and when things get crazy, I stop and reflect on the important things in life. Things such as family and friends, pets and animals in general. I think of my nephew laughing as I chase him around trying to get him out before he slides into home plate. Moments like these are priceless, and should mean the most to all of us.

Sublime | Jillene Stark

I have to paint for the productions for the theatre program, it is a required course. It was a stressful day and nothing was getting done in time. I tried to calm people down but nothing seemed to be helping. So I took my paint and got on my ladder and started to splatter paint, as I was told to do on the wall. It started to go slower in my mind as I watched the paint leave my brush and hit the wall to make the most interesting shapes. I saw pictures of friends who I hadn't seen in a while, shapes that haven't been discovered yet. I left that stressful world to find myself caught up in a paint covered world. Those moments made me appreciate the times I get to be in my own world and not have to worry for 2 minutes.

Sublime | Heather Zundel

Thursday was terrible, long. . . and busy. I had had no time to myself, no time to think or breathe, no time to listen to music or write. Heck I didn’t even have time to eat a freakin’ candy bar. On top of an Olympian pile of homework, I had to watch a documentary for a history class. Off Campus. At night. When I could have been doing anything besides, well, watching a documentary. The cramped room had those stupid folding chairs that are the school’s closet thing to a torture device, and I was actually grateful to get one. The ominous clouds outside the high window did little to improve my mood. Yet as the lights dimmed, my eyes lingered on the sight, the clouds, curling black masses blended with blue and gray. They foamed and exploded, flecks escaping the great mass to highlight another piece of the moving tapestry. It was beautiful. It was sublime. I stared long outside that window, its small light casting pale shadows on the students below. It was such a growing mass, so terrible, so beautiful, so alive. Staring out that window, on the most hectic day of that week was the best thing that had happened to me, and I was grateful for that glimpse of the world’s immensity.

Tina Bishop | Sublime

My son T.J. is almost 3 years old. He doesn't talk in sentences, yet. He says colors, letters, numbers and shapes. He is very athletic, too. He jumps on the trampoline, jumps off of monkey bars, knows how to flip, and has great balance and coordination. I have been worried about his progress and education since the divorce this year and all the fights he gets into at pre-school. But when he came in to sleep with me last night I watch him as he closed his eyes. He placed his hand on top of my arm and smiled in his sleep. At that moment I knew that he will be fine and experiences peace in his life. The feeling of peace I felt transcended any worried feeling I may have about him and gave me hope.

Sublime | Shannon Eberhard

I recently bought a fascinating book called the “Anatomical Dictionary for Artists”. It weighs about four pounds and inside has illustrations of a wide variety of mammals and all their bones and muscles. I am an art major and have taken life drawing and anatomy. After taking that class, like any class, I have been looking at the world a little differently than before. When walking in the halls, I don’t only see the faces and clothes on people, but their proportions. I’ll see a guy with irregularly long arms that make him look almost apelike, while some random girls wide set eyes will remind me of a fishes. These are not critical observations mind you, but simply observations, and I think that my new book has recently heightened these observations.

While holding my friends newborn baby, I was looking at her little head and noticed under her delicate transparent skin the various blue veins. And on top, I saw her skull pulsating with her heartbeat, that soft spot on top where the skull has yet to finish growing. And while looking at her head, all I could see were the bones and the muscles and the veins, it was like I was looking at an object not a person. So you are probably asking, what is so sublime in seeing a sack of bones and veins while holding something as beautiful as a baby? Honestly it’s hard to explain. There is something very primal in seeing our ultimate fate, death, in the epitome of life, a baby. I felt like I was holding a little package, a bundle sent by both god and the devil, that would tell me the answer to life’s purpose. Only I couldn’t understand the language they wrote it in. Hard to understand as it is, it was a deeply sublime moment.

Sublime| Karalee Dearden

Yesterday, as I was getting ready to walk over to the library and type up my poetry assignments, it began to rain. At first, I was upset, knowing I would have to walk through it. I like rain as much as the next person, but I don't always like getting wet. As I thought about how much time I had before I needed to be at the school, I relaxed a little, and had a moment to listen to the rain on my roof. The pitter patter of raindrops was calming. I feel like I am far away from my home and family, and a little lost and scared to be making my own decisions. But the soft rain calmed my troubled mind, and I was able to think and remember the fun I used to have in the rain. As the rain subsided, I felt sorry that I would not have a chance to walk in it, to feel like a little kid again. But then I realized, just listening to the rain had done that for me. It's amazing what a little bit of water falling to the earth can do.

Sublime | Jordan Peace

While busing my tray the other day after lunch I glanced down at an empty table to see a pile of salt that was made to look like a bunny. Now I don't know if it was the fact that I was having a miserable day or that this particular salt bunny had big floppy ears and a dopey smile but there was something about seeing that crafted little rabbit that made me smile brightly.

I still don't know what made me happy about seeing it. Maybe because it had been sitting there a while undisturbed, and seeing this stupid pile of salt with carefully placed impressions gave me the feeling that nothing was wrong with my pointless little world. I find it wierd that seeing a simple thing at just the right time can change your outlook if even for a day.

Sublime | Christie Fordham

Dancing! What a wonderful word. There is nothing like getting a partner and grooving out on the dance floor. Tuesday night while eating free fried chicken provided by the school I watched a few couples swing dance out on the floor. They looked so happy and excited as they moved their way across the area. People interacting with eachother and having a good time while doing it is entirely sublime.

I was feeling sorry for myself until my friend Mike asked me to dance. Mike is a wonderful dancer and I always have a good time when I'm dancing with him. Maybe because it's a challenge for me, but either way, trying to follow and dance correctly is always a thrill. It's a wonderful feeling when I finally get the steps right and dance smoothly. It's not just any dancing. It's dancing with a partner and being successful.

Sublime | Katherine Nielson

As I walked home from school, I paused to watch a falling leaf cross my path. It landed on the edge of the sidewalk. It teetered precariously, influenced by gravity and the breeze. To me the breeze was light, but for the leaf it was too much. It fell. Off it went into the flowing irrigation water below. Swept away with nothing to cling to, the leaf soon disappeared from my view leaving only the tranquil water behind. It left no trace of it's existence, but a soft memory for a girl, walking home one day from school.

Sublime | Seirra Dickerson

In the early 80's, a band named X-Japan hit the Japanese music scene and blew people away with their visual rock style. They evolved and performed for over fifteen years, and then decided to break up. They held one last concert in Tokyo; a farewell of sorts. What's sublime about any of this? Watching Yoshiki, the drummer and leader of the band, break down in tears halfway through the concert, knowing this would be the last time he would be playing with his band. Toshi, the lead singer and Yoshiki's best friend, starts singing one of their best known ballads, "Forever Love." Yoshiki staggers toward the stage and falls into Toshi's arms crying. For me, there isn't anything more beautiful or sublime than people who live, sleep, dream, and bleed music.

Sublime | Matt Nielsen

Different people view different things as sublime. I enjoy nature as much as the next person, and in all honesty get out as often as possible. But tonight I experienced a different kind of sublime. I had quite a sublime experience just today. I wasn't out in nature. I wasn't even watching people. I was sitting at home, at my desk, finishing up another long day of work. But it wasn't any ordinary day. It was a beautiful day. My Calculas test in the morning went far better than expected. I finally got a lab assistant job that I have been fighting for for weeks. I am finally beginning to really understand the ins and outs of programming in machine code for my microprocessors class. Even my poetry seemed unusually beautiful. So now that my work is done, and I am able to relax, drink a beer and enjoy some blues on the stereo, I am truly at ease with the fine day that I had. I don't think I cold have asked for anything more.

Jenny | Sublime

Last weekend we were able to go up to my husband's family's ranch and camp for the weekend. It was such a nice break from life to be up in the mountains and not have a set schedule for things we had to do. We walked around all day visiting the homestead that his great grandfather built and just enjoyed the scenery. The mountains don't have too much color to them yet. All the trees and the animals have the same earth-tone colors to them. That night as we were frying up our dinner, the sun was setting and started making these amazing colors in the sky. There were streaky clouds in the sky that turned bright red and orange as the sun set behind the mountains. It lit up the entire mountainside with spectacular colors that were not on that mountain earlier. It was such a great view to end our fun weekend.

Mara | Sublime

I was walking home from school a few days ago. I take this trip everyday and don't see anything that would be sublime or other. I was in between an apartment complex and a wall, when I looked down and saw a bird. It was dead, lying in the grass. The reason why this bird was so sublime was it had beautiful yellow feathers on its chest. The color wasn't something you would find in nature. Nature has browns and greens, not bright yellow on something that is usually earth colored. It was almost a floresent yellow, it also had a little hit of green in it. It's ashame that this bird was dead because he was most likely so beautiful when he was alive.

Uncanny | Roma Peddle

Try this for uncanny. I'm sure most of you have gotten to experience the wild thrill of being pulled over for running a stop sign, a red light, speeding -or in some cases- driving recklessly, but I have come to the realization that I have a serious issue with it.

Last year, as a freshman at SUU, I decided to live at home in Parowan (with the help of my mom pleading me daily) and therefore would have to drive to and from Cedar everyday. Some days this consisted of multiple trips, which to me were SO time consuming, and could easily be accelerated (no pun on the gas pedal intended) by driving faster. So, as it would seem, I'd get a little bit out of control occasionally, and ended up with about 4 speeding tickets, just my first semester.

It didn't stop there, however. On the way back from a spring Lake Powell trip I got pulled over again, in a friend's car, and obtained yet another ticket by the police dept. of Kanab. And then a month later, on the way to a concert in Las Vegas, I got pulled over AGAIN, this time by an Arizona cop. Leave it to me to get pulled over in Arizona on my way to Vegas, even though there's only about a mile, if that, of actual "Arizona" to be found.

So then I moved to California for the summer, learned to drive better, and seemed to forget about all my traffic violations in the beautiful state of Utah. But as soon as I got home, I was welcomed back with multiple letters, from multiple police stations, looking for my ticket payments. I spent today talking and pleading with judges on the phone, trying to reduce ticket fees since I'm a "poor college student, trying to pay for school" (the tactic only worked on a few), and clearing my name so I'm no longer wanted in two states. The outcome: a lesson well learned, and a debt of $578.... Oops!

Uncanny | Mara Lefler

I have come to realize that I am uncanny. I can say and do the most uncanny things. For instance, yesterday I was at a friends house and we were chatting and eating dinner. I can't remember what we where talking about, but I had the thought and I said out loud without really thinking what I was saying, "I hate it when your ears plug up after you eat cold pizza." I remember the room going quiet for a slpit second before my friends started to tease me mercilessly about what I had just said. I came to the realization that no one else probably gets their ears plugged up after they eat cold pizza.

Also there is another uncanny experience that I have been pracitcing for. I'm in a play called All in the Timing. It is a play of scenes, and in one of the scenes I play a monkey who types on a typwriter. Now acting in general in not uncanny; people do it all the time, but acting like a monkey is uncanny.

Uncanny | Tara Freeman

The other day my family and I were eating an enjoyable lunch at Artic Circle. There was a seemingly normal man sitting near us. At the end of the meal I got some drink refills and as I was returning to my table I noticed the man had gone outside for a cigarette.

On this particular day the wind was just howling. The man was standing just outside the door of the restaurant, and facing directly into the wind diligently trying over and over to light his cigarette.

I just had to shake my head and chuckle at this incredibly silly display.

Uncanny| Beth McGraw

Yesterday my friend and I had just gotten on the freeway on our way back into Cedar City when we saw a car that had to have been going about 50 MPH in a zone where the speed limit was 75 MPH. I saw that this particular car had those giant wheels that any short person would almost need a little step stool to get into. As we drove past I looked up at the window and saw a lady who looked as though she was at least eighty driving this huge vehicle.

At first sight I was very surprised, I had expected to see some guy who had muscles and tatoos all over his arms. Yet here was this cute lady just puttering along as though she hadn't a care in the world. Why would she have a ar like that? I wondered to myself, why have a car that you have to literally jump and then crawl into?

Yet as we kept driving on I noticed that not one person honked or yelled out their window at her for going so slow. I don't know if the huge tires on the car had anything to do with it or not, but whatever the reason she was able to go along at her own pace undisturbed by the ongoing traffic.

Uncanny | Michelle Maxfield

Uncanny? The only uncanny thing to happen to me was the power outage yesterday. I have a webcomic, this instantly leads me into the realm of beginning geekdom - and I'll proudly admit it - I am a geek. Anyway, because the power went out, everything suddenly stopped. No one could do anything in the buildings, because they couldn't do anything without power! That added to the fact that it was simply the wind that killed the power, instead of common things such as bad weather. But everything stopped, everything seemed to slow down to a lazy Sunday afternoon, and it was only Friday!

What made this so odd to me wasn't that everything stopped, I've long since realized that our society is much too dependent on electricity, what really made this experience uncanny to me was that it wasn't just a few things affected, it was EVERYTHING. I mean, in my case, I couldn't talk to my boyfriend, or listen to music, or do anything that I would have normally done. I'm sure a lot of other's were the same as me.

But then my mind started wandering. What if there was no electricity? If Cedar City had a blackout like New York's a few years ago? How would we cope? Would it completely cripple our way of life? Or would we find a way out or around of it? Would I die from lack of music? From lack of my internet and email and connections home? Probably.

Uncanny | Alison Allen

I was standing in the check out line a Wal-Mart a few days ago behind young woman with a small boy. He seemed fascinated by me; he just stared from at me from the basket in the cart, eating his Nutragrain bar. There must have been something more interesting behind me that he was looking at so I turned around to see. Not only was there nothing behind me but my boyfriend, but the child thought this was hilarious. I started wondering what was so curious about me that he felt the need to watch me so intently. Kids tend to make me nervous so, not knowing what else to do, I waved at him. This too was hilarious to the small boy.
It occurred to me then how nice it must be to be easily amused. I am I the only one who wishes an hour of jumping on the bed or digging a hole was still the most fun you could have on a Saturday? I think simplicity must be the essence of comedy.

Uncanny | Tina Bishop

Oh, the wonderful world of online dating is filled with psychos, freaks, and lonely people mixed in with the normal people who have had some bad luck in life. Never before in the history of the world has online dating been more evident than in the lives of single adults across the globe. Most websites offer a free browsing session where one may look at other members’ profiles. Memberships are sold per month and instant messaging is also involved in the price of the product. Once a member, one may see who has viewed their profile that day, see who is online, chat, send flirts and smiles while also being able to pick up on people.

I went on a date with an on-line acquaintance who is from Texas. When he got here, he made it evidently known that he absolutely loved me, cried three or four times, and started talking about marriage within the first few hours! WHOA! I had to keep things at an even-calm throughout the night by changing the subject to non-intense themes and keeping my physical distance.

By the end of it all I was exhausted. I didn’t give up on the on-line dating stuff, completely, though. I have dates every weekend, guys calling me every day and attention that I never would have received by just going to a bar, club, or dance. On-line dating might seem weird to those who haven’t tried it, and there are certainly some freaks to avoid. On-line dating, though uncanny to most, is becoming the norm. It is a computer’s-length process of elimination, that if used correctly, helps to interview and screen possible dates.

Uncanny | Elyse Georgeson

Driving down the street, I saw a guy waiting to cross the street. You know how you casually glance around at intersections, waiting to see if there’s something just coming for you. This guy was a typical college looking guy—short dark hair, jeans, t-shirt.

He was riding what I took at first to be a bicycle. But there was something about it that didn’t quite fit. Looking again, I noticed he had a unicycle. He was just standing there, holding on to his unicycle by the seat. Maybe that’s what I thought was so odd at first glance; he wasn’t astride it like you’d see with a regular bike.

What would happen if the unicycles were preferred over bicycles? We’d all be extraordinarily balanced, at least physically, if not mentally. But what would happen with all those self-proclaimed klutzes if they were to ride a unicycle?

Uncanny | Shannon Eberhard

I was reading on the couch in the living room when I noticed a repetitive rapping sound coming from the sunroom where the birds were playing. At first I ignored it, but after awhile it started to annoy me, so I got up to behold probably the strangest thing I’ve seen a bird do. Louie (my sisters love bird) was straddled, and rocking back and forth on one of his perches by pushing and pulling with his spare foot on a parallel perch. His head was arched back and he was emitting strange squeaking noises. First thing through my head was "What the @*#% !" But then it was "Louie is humping that perch!"

I know it is common for small dogs to exhibit such behavior, but birds? I was dumbfounded! Birds are usually used by us as metaphors for things that are elegant clean and beautiful. Their images are used on the crests for kings, in patterns of fine silk you know what I mean. But Louie, after watching his display, would better belong in the painting "Dogs Playing Poker" than on a royal crest!

It really is funny that the image of Louie humping disturbed me so much, I guess it was just because it was so unexpected. It shattered a few of my stereotypes about birds anyway. Which is fine because they are after all wild things and very social animals who very much like us, must experience a little sexual frustration once and awhile.

Uncanny | Chelsea Hinckley

I am from Minnesota, and there aren't all that many Mormons in Minnesota. It is a predominantly Lutheran state. I've lived all around, but never in a place that had so many people like me- I'm used to being the goose in the duck pond. But last night, my Minnesota friend Melanie and I went to something called the "Social Revolution" put on by the LDSSA or something to that extent.

Never in my whole life would I have thought that a world like this existed.

I participated in speed dating. About half-way through I began to feel like I was in a movie. The person directing the show was in charge of ringing the bell every two minutes- a signal that our date with that person was over. The whole thing was super-dramatic yet oddly mellow. The scene reaked of over-ripened hormones. I kept waiting for someone to get up and give an oscar-clip-worthy monologue, but it never happened. I got out of there pretty fast. Apparently there were cookies, but I never found them.

I repeat: Never in my whole like woul I have thought that a world like this existed.

Uncanny | Chelsea Trump

Yesterday, I decided that I needed to do laundry. To be perfectly honest, it was the first time I have ever done laundry by myself. So, I drove up to this little laundro-mat by Smiths called "The Missing Sock". Everything was going well until I happened to glance over at the area designated for children to play in.

It was a little walled in area covered with grey carpet with not a single toy. However, the lack of child friendy items wasn't the weird part. The unusual part was the sign. I assume it originally said, "Please do not leave child unattended" But most of the words had fallen off or been removed so that the sign simply read, "Please leave child"

Instantly my mind was filled with visions of a secret child labour ring run by the innocent looking laundro-mat. Perhaps, when night falls, the children are sent out to clean up for the next day. Or maybe they are the only ones with hands small enough to collect the quarters out of the machines. Noting once again the lack of toys, the children are obviously never allowed to play. So next time you're at a laundro-mat, remember the poor children and leave everything clean.

Uncanny | Heather Zundel

In my frantic hurry to print off an assignement two hours before it was due, I scrambled through my breakfast and tied my hair back in a hasty fashion before flying out of my room to the library (which had just opened). The morning was clear and bright, fresh even, hardly a cloud in the sky, and I had to pause in its serenity. In the library, I quickly printed off what I needed. My near disaster averted I gently replaced my things and headed for the door -only to be stopped. There, outside, a crowd remained huddled under the entrance. Because at that moment, it was raining.

Raining, and I had not been inside for more than three minutes, but even more uncanny than its sudden appearance, was how it boldly declared its entrance. For you see, hardly a cloud was still in the sky. The sun shone brightly and I saw the blue heavens smiling happily as if at its own private joke, while the rain continued to fall. And not just droplets that you see every once in a while on a strange day. They fell steadily, but not the cold droplets you see in an normal storm. No, these seemed to laugh as they fell, their gowns transparant and gleeful. They looked like diamonds falling, and ones that did not loose their lustor after they hit the grass, for they smiled back as dew against the sun.

I could not help but smile myself, and it was not only fear for my paper that kept me behind the safety of the canopy. I stared up high above me, wondering, thinking, imagining where they could come from. Certainly not from above, for the sky was clear and beautiful. Yet the strange paradox of those brief moments made me see that something so usually contrived as one thing, as seen in a different light (literally) could make it unique and wonderous. Needless to say, I was nearly late for my class for watching so long at a most uncanny sight.

Uncanny | Sidney Jordan

My room mate last week came home from work and wanted to chillax, so she made a drink. Three... or five later, she stood up. This is never a good thing. Standing up after sitting and drinking. She was all sloppy and giggling. It's was funny to watch her stumble around the living room playing with the dog.

Finally when we got her to stop talking and say good night. She went down the hall to go to bed. ONE, TWO, Step. The step she missed. Smack, crack and rooling legs is all we heard. She had successfully made it down three steps before fallling down to the bottom. I jumped up and ran to the top of the stairs. Her head was in the hall way and her legs were stuck in the door way of the bottom stair. I made sur she was ok before laughing at her.

Well funny storie short. She had an impartant job interview in the morning. We had to put cove up her eyes and cold wash rags on them to take the puffyness away, from all of the crying. She looked like hell. The three of us worked on her. We did out best then sent her on her way. Maybe next time she wont sit and drink. It's a deadly combination.

Uncanny | Cassidy Berlin

It struck me as I was driving back from Zion National Park that this world is full of such wondrous places and I only have a life time to see it all. My heart started pounding and I began to feel extremely anxious. In my mind I began questioning our society and why we live life the way we do. Why do we have to go to school, then get married and work, then have kids and watch them repeat the process? What if that’s not what life is supposed to be about? What if life is supposed to be about exploring and traveling and learning about different cultures. Instead of sitting in a classroom and reading a book wouldn’t it be so much better if we could just travel and learn about life through experiences.

My mom tells me “You need to make sure that you get a good education and make money before you go travel.” But every second I sit down to do a math problem I feel like I’m wasting a second I could be spending gazing at the pyramids in Egypt, or hiking through a rainforest in Africa. The thought of someday dying and not being able to see all of planet earth…it almost makes me mad.

Seeing a national park is supposed to make you happy, and usually it does for me. But on that drive home I felt stressed and scared. At the age of 20 I should be thinking “I’m still so young!” Instead my thoughts are “I’m running out of time…”

Uncanny| Raymond Wadsworth

I have a roommate who is, well to put it nicely, interesting. He comes from Kentucky and word hillbilly is a definate understatement.Do you have a visual of the kid yet? He does some crazy weird things all of the time, but one thing that happened the other day caught me off guard. He wanted to have a BBQ.


Nothing is uncommon about a BBQ. But as I returned from work and opened the door I noticed something on the floor right next to the door. I turned on the light and it was a pile of hot dogs and hamburgers that had been cooked. They were just lying there on the floor chilling I guess. No big deal I thought. Food falls off of the table all of the time. As I continued down the path to my room I began stepping on something crunchy. I looked closer and it was potatoe chips. Wow, I thought. What a mess. Then, the weird thing happened. I walked to my room and put my stuff away and went to use the restroom. I lifted the lid and something caught my eye. The figure in the toilet left my mind in a stuper of thought. There before me was a big, thick and juicy hamburger.


I've ran it through my mind a hundred times. How did the hamburger get there? Who would do such a thing? Does the toilet make a better disposal than the disposal itself? Why did he try to flush the hamburger? What it going to bite him so he decided to drown it out? Was it on fire from the grease? Perhaps he was wondering if meat floats. Well buddy, the answer is yes, but maybe next time you could take your little experiment out of the toilet.

Uncanny | Jenny Sorensen

Just the other day I was at IFA getting one of our truck's tires rotated and balanced. The appointment was taking a lot longer than I thought it would, so I started looking around the shop trying to distract myself from my boredom.

As I was looking around, I noticed one of the many pictures that was hanging by the desk. The picture was of a hearse. This hearse was lifted by four, huge, monster-truck tires. Now, seeing a picture of a hearse is not usually something you would take a picture of anyway, but a hearse with monster-truck tires is something I would have never imagined.

During the time I was "studying" this unique picture, I started wondering about other vehicles like that. What would happen if all of our ambulances drove around with monster-truck tires, as well. I guarantee they would have no problem getting passed people on the road to the hospital!

Uncanny | Seirra Dickerson

As college freshmen, some of us have to get used to sharing our bubbles with a new, unusual human being. I was lucky to get along with my roommate, because my best friend has been having a horrible time with his roommate. He barges in during the early morning hours while my friend is trying to sleep, turns on all the lights, and starts talking to him; then, he leaves, without shutting the door or turning off any of the lights. The Scooby Gang (our group of friends) has adopted a name for him: “The Ape.”

While my friend is trying to rid himself of his highly irritating roommate, I was happy with mine. We were complete opposites in personality and taste, but we got along perfectly fine. We never fought, and never woke each other when coming in from a late night of hanging out with friends.

Fate makes you wonder sometimes. My roommate moved out yesterday to a room in Eccles. The pair that got along was split, and the pair that can’t stand each other are, unfortunately, still rooming together. I’m hoping that karma will smile on me and give me another nice roommate; that, or let me have the room to myself. At least then I could blare J-rock music from my computer without any weird looks.

Uncanny | Brynn Bowthorpe

I am not a frequent customer to the University Bookstore, but I do walk by quite often on my way to various classes. One can see through the windows various common “bookstore” items: books, T-bird paraphernalia, envelopes, post-it notes, and so on. I assume that any unsuspecting co-ed could find whatever she wanted for school in such a place.

The bookstore is a common place. Nothing too out-of-the-ordinary. However, as I passed the other day, I noticed a collection of dolls for sale. I have never really been a doll person, so noticing shelves full of dolls is a little unusual for me. These dolls were covered in butterflies and flowers, with hair curled like noodles and painted faces staring down the innocent passers-by as if to say, “I am something you really need.”

I found myself wondering why in the world the University stocks dolls to sell in the bookstore. How many sales do they get? I pictured lines of co-eds waiting to purchase, each one stroking their doll’s butterfly dress gently. Homesick girls with swollen red eyes consoled by the creamy staring faces, asking their parents to put a little extra money in their account this month for “emergencies”. Faces of grown women pasted to the bookstore window wondering what their husbands will think if they come home from class cradling a noodle-haired doll. Amused at myself, I walked slowly to class, half-way expecting to glance back at the bookstore to see a “Doll Blowout Sale” sign hanging in the bookstore window, and a plethora of crying college girls waiting in line to buy.

Uncanny | Laura Spencer

There is a tree I pass everyday on my way to and fro. There is nothing truly remarkable about this tree. It is a small pecan tree, which produces fat, green orbs that hung heavily from its branches taunting the birds with their forbiddeness. Its leaves are a deep, shiny, green covered in sap, and its branches reach out to engulf the sidewalk passing by darkening its aspect with the slow drip of its life blood.

The tree is common and goes about its business without troubling the rest of the world. However, it leaves a lasting impression on me and I avoid the dark reach of its branches every time I pass by taking care to avoid even the smallest shiny pebble which has been tainted by the tree’s sap. It seems ominous—as if the sap dripping from its quiet heart could brand me. You see, the “owners” of this pecan tree have neglected to spray for aphids early in the summer and now the minuscule insects have had plenty of time to inflict numerous small wounds upon the woody plant.

Imagine, if you will, the horror of this daily spectacle. The tree is covered in its own life fluid—its blood! Would we pass by a human being so covered in its own blood with the indifference with which we pass by the tree? Would we skirt a human being who was so attired without reaching out to help? No! Of course, we would reach out our hand to help stop the suffering! Or would we? Do not people suffer and die every day for the lack of such help? And does not someone see them every day? And yet I continue to skirt the tree in a vain effort to deny the dark specter of its message. “I’m sorry,” I whisper “There’s nothing I can do! It’s not my responsibility.”

Uncanny | Jillene Stark

An older man always comes into the restaurant I work in. He orders the same thing and he reads the newspaper, when you walk up to talk to him he always will look you in the eye and tell you, "You are a great person and I would be the best friend you would ever want if you would give me the chance." Then he will go back to reading his newspaper while eating his food, and then he pays and leaves.

I always wonder why he would say that to every waitress? It doesn't matter their age or what they look like, he wants to be every ones friend. I have told him I would be his friend but nothing changes the next time he comes in he tells you the same thing over and over again. This has confused because he remembers my name but he won't remember that he already asked me the same question.

I started trying to understand the meaning of why he would say that specific thing. I thought maybe it is a saying that will brighten anyone’s day; maybe he is lonely and needs to know that people will still be his friend, or he is just crazy. I asked every waitress he has talked to how the reacted to his comment and they all think he is crazy but after they talk to him it does seam as though they feel much better about their work. I think that this old man says what he says to be nice and brighten our days because even though it sounds crazy and creepy, sometimes people just need to know that they have a friend.

Uncanny | Katherine Nielson

I live between campus and my home, across the street from the baseball field. My walk between the library and my home is made daily. In the event of one of these walks I can observe over thirty individuals talking on their cell phones. It reminds me of scenes shot on the streets of New York City. This Age of the Mobile is effecting every age of life. The cell phone is replacing many normal forms of communication, writing, and even talking one on one. As I was watching these passing phone adicts, I suddenly saw the mental picture of them each carrying old-fashioned cord phones, the ones with the curly cords. How ridiculous would they look, yet the only thing that has changed is the phones size and convenience.

I guess Hurricane Katrina has had an impact on me, I wonder how well we could communicate if our medium for it suddenly broke down. "Oh, dear, how can I tell my wife I love her when she's next to me if I don't have my cell phone to text her 'I luv u.'" I can see the break down now. The end of civilization as we know it. All relationships break down, because all of them are based through correspondence through an inanimate object.

So the end of the world will come with the break down of the cell phone. And in the end . . . excuse me, my mobile is ringing.

Uncanny | Sarah Gibbs

I was riding the CATS bus today for the Ultimate T-Bird Challenge that I am a part of and behind me there was a cute little family with three or four kids. The little boy was falling asleep sitting in his seat. Every time the bus went of a bump he would jerk violently awake. The poor guy couldn't get a proper sleep. After a while his dad held him in his arms and he fell to sleep instantly and stayed that way.

A little boy falling asleep in his dad's arms isn't something unusual. It is something you see everyday. What was unusual was the sudden feeling of jealousy that I felt when I saw him sleeping so safely. I wanted to feel that much at ease and that safe that even the jolts of the bus did not scare me anymore.

I realized that life is like that. Especially since this is my first year of college and being away from home. I am in a sense the little boy alone on the seat. It is difficult, and I am sure all college students can relate, to feel safe in a world that we have never experienced before. Like at the beginning of the ride when the boy was alert and excited, that is how it started out, but now I am tired and ready to be held with such a sense of security that I am become at peace and comfortable with my new surroundings.

Uncanny | Trent Bradford

Last night I went out for a jog. I took University Blvd. across I-15, went up past the radio towers, and eventually found myself in the park near Wal-Mart. It was nice and quiet, and quite relaxing. The sprinklers were softly spraying a fine mist, which, due to a light breeze, was impossible to avoid. But it felt good. I was well into the park when I realized that I was not alone. I was sharing the park with a kitty-weasel. She was mostly black, with two parallel white stripes running from her nose to the tip of her tail. She was a skunk.

I doubt that seeing a skunk in a park is uncommon. But strangely enough, I could have sworn that this skunk had come here to play. She was frolicking about as if she were a regular human child. She would hop off of a bridge here and run around a pole there, over and under – it would not have been surprising to see her sliding down the slide. The scary part came when she decided to play with me. She would look at me through some shrubbery, scurry to another spot to look again, then another, and another, but she never got any farther away. Although it was a completely prejudice decision, I decided that I did not like her. I began to think. How accurately can I throw a rock? Fairly accurately. How accurately can she spray? Mist - like the sprinklers in the breeze. How many rocks are available? None. How much spray does she have to spray? I don’t want to know. I decided that hide and seek was no fun. I was playing a high stakes game of tag, and she was it.

As I fled, my mind revealed images of multitudes of black and white kitty-weasels frolicking around the park. If there was one, why could there not be more? I could see the human children coming to play, and a war breaking out; smelly children crying, skunks being kicked over the fence – who knows what could happen. It could very well be turned into one of those sixties-style horror films: Attack of the Killer Kitty-Weasels! Maybe that is the real reason that the park closes after dark.

Uncanny | Christie Fordham

I have a friend who just bought a 55 inch television. He is a college student and has wanted the TV for a long time. That is absolutely fine. The interesting thing about it is, as I walked into his apartment I looked around and saw all of his incredibly humble furniture. His apartment looked just like it had walked out of the worst portion of Deseret Industries. The entire apartment couldn’t have cost him more than $20 in furniture and sitting in the corner is this huge, brand new television that takes up half of his wall.

All I could do is laugh at the situation. The fact that he would use up all of his life savings on a piece of technology that wasn’t really needed just amazes me. I am not one of those people who will go big for such a shallow reason. It almost looked like a poverty stricken home owner that had won on the “Price is Right”. It was very hard for me to concentrate on the movie that we were watching because of my surroundings.

If he could have just waited for probably five more years, he could have gotten so much more for the same price. I always wonder about the world and where they’re priorities are. Are we to the point where we will do anything to buy that big screen TV, BMW, or those Lucky Jeans? Nothing of lower class is acceptable anymore.

Uncanny | Cassi Hardy

There is a strange limousine that is displayed in what I can only describe as a junkyard not far from my apartment. It’s set up very high, as if it is advertising something (though what it is advertising, I haven’t the foggiest idea.) I pass it whenever I go to my friend’s house, and it is in an area where there are mainly storage units and U-Haul rentals. So, logically, not a whole lot of people are going to see this thing. Or, if they do see it, they are more than likely getting ready to move out of town. It just sort of… hangs out, as if to say, “Yes, I’m weird. So? You wanna make somethin’ of it?”

As far as I know, it is the only old stretch-limo with jacked up, monster-truck tires, as well as other odd bits and pieces from other vehicles—bits and pieces which have no place on a stretch limo. From what I can tell, someone took great care in its odd, Frankenstein-like construction. You can see that this vehicle used to be a limousine once upon a time, but it obviously doesn’t run anymore. After all, if I had a jacked up, Frankenstein limo, I’d be driving it around town on my days off. I wouldn’t have it sitting around in the middle of nowhere as a decoration no one but people on their way out (and I) see.

This limousine is not a “pimped out” ride. It doesn’t even work. It just sits there, advertising nothing. Why did Mr. or Mrs. Frankenstein mechanic do this? What purpose does it serve other than to make me nearly crash my car every time I pass it? It’s just such a strange thing to do to a limousine. I almost feel like someone needs to put a sign next to it that reads: Freak Limousine. Sit inside for a dollar—no refunds.

Uncanny | Matt Nielsen

This past weekend I was fishing up at Kolob Resorvoir. Just me, the squirrels and the damn ATV's. I was sitting in my chair enjoying the air, munching on some trail mix and drinking pepsi when I noticed a squirrel looking for food in the rocks to my right. I often enjoy just watching animals and nature in general while fishing. It helps to relax me. So, I decided to toss some of my trail mix out for this squirrel to eat. We sort of became friends.

This type of thing is not unusual in the wild today. I have often fed squirrels, birds or whatever else is around while out there. Things didn't get unusual until another squirrel showed up. The second squirrel I am assuming was a male, because he immediatley set out to dominate the first one. He would chase her off, take her food and even sniff her butt. The behavior bore an uncanny resemblence to the way my two cats act towards each other, complete with food thievery and butt sniffing.

This in turn led me to wonder how little that has changed even for humans. If you think about it, how many men out there are always trying to boss around and control their women? We may not actually sniff their butts (at least not in public), but on a more primal level we still act in much the same way. Just go to Wal-Mart on Saturday night sometime and watch people. It is not that much different.

Uncanny | Jordan Peace

While riding my bike up to the bank yesterday and wiping the gallons of sweat from my face (fat people, bicycles, and gentle slopes don't mix) I came upon an elderly couple out on a mid afternoon stroll. Wheezing with effort to pedal my bike up a road that to the human eye looked flat if not on a downgrade I mustard a friendly if not understandable hello. They nodded to me and we both went on our ways.

After a minute or two and only managing to move a few feet I looked back and noticed that the lady of the couple easily in her eighties was sporting a mullet. While this in and of itself is only slightly unusual I realized that her mullet was an exact replica of one Billy Ray Cyrus, country music one hit wonder turned PAX television staple.

The sight of such an old and seemingly nice woman brought about visions of over the hill metal acts touring nursing homes to the delight of geriatric rockers. The mental image of a small stage covered in gargantuan panties, meager amplifiers and guitars, and musicians annoyed by their own fate triggered "Big Bottom" by Spinal Tap to play in my head for hours.

Sublime | Sample

Today I came around the back side of the house with the kids in the double stroller and spotted this gorgeous yellow butterfly loping through the air. I stopped with the kids and watched it pass over my head and loop a couple of times and turn north and head toward the trees between my house and the street. The butterfly's path was so confident: it didn't waver while choosing what seemed like a random path. Instead it seemed like the improvisations of John Coltrane or Jimi Hendrix: perfectly controlled harmonious chaos.

Uncanny | Sample

Yesterday, while I was waiting for my Sausage McMuffin with Egg in the Wal-Mart McDonald's (yes, I do know how classy that makes me sound), a man with a prosthetic leg came along with a little girl who was about eleven years old, probably his granddaughter. He was a very regular-looking Utah grandpa: polo shirt, khaki shorts, nondescript white running shoes, ankle socks.

In and of itself, the guy's prosthetic leg was not the weirdest thing about this guy. What made the scene completely uncanny was the fact that this fella's leg was not the rubbery, Crayola flesh-tone of most prosthetic limbs. Instead, it was tattooed with a patchwork of dusky American flags that swirled the main piston of the calf, climbed the knee and thigh, and disappeared into the hem of his shorts.

This left me wondering if there were any prosthetic legs available with the Union Jack or Maple Leaf or three bars of the French, Italian, or German flags. Are we, in the States, alone in our flag fetishes? Do people in other countries do things like this? Without a doubt this does not happen in Japan--their fake legs would end up looking like a case of very aggressive chicken pox.

Tina Bishop | Interesting Fact

My second language is Slovene. Slovenia is one country of the former Yugoslavia and is geographically located next to Italy. Out of some 6 billion people in the world only 2 million speak this language. Since it is a slavic language I can understand some Russian, Croatian, and Czech. My understanding of another lanugage helps me understand English more fully and will hopefully help me as I certify to teach English on the secondary level.

Some interesting words in Slovene are: "Pomoc" means "help", "Kruh" means "bread", "Kolo" means "Bicycle" and "Pes" means "dog".

Chelsea Hinckley | Interesting?

I wrote several things on that little yellow card, none of which I really wanted to explain to a large group of internet-going strangers, but for the purposes of this assignment, and the fact that nearly everyone is in this boat with me, I will attempt to explain myself.
Now I find myself wishing that I had written something simple like, my elbows are double-jointed, or I have a very long tongue, or I really really really like to eat cake. But I didn't, and now I suppose that there isn't another option.

On that little yellow card, I wrote something to extent of me being an environmentalist/hippie/yogi who lives at the Knock-Up. And then I believe there was brief mention of that fact that I hail from Minnesota. From the beginning:
For the first three years of my high school career, I went to a large, unbelieveable rich and preppy school. Then for senior year, I decided to rejoin my friends at a school I swore I wouldn't go to. I had no desire for what they taught, but my friends were there, and that was enough. The whole experience was very surreal, and in hindsight, I can't believe I was so adamantly against going. The School of Environmental Studies at the Minnesota Zoo. The Zoo School. SES. The place I would come to love with more of my heart than I knew was awake. Within the first week of class, I was hooked. Overnight I turned into something I never thought I would be: an environmentalist. By the end of the year, I was proud to be an outdoors enthusiast who didn't mind peeing outside, a passionate girl who sorted everything she discarded from her lunch into their proper recycling receptacles, a hardcore leader who coordinated the Earth Day Celebration for the school and community for her senior project, an eager student with a voracious appetite for any kind of learning.
This sort of transformation came as quite a comical shock to my parents and siblings; I was always the one who wouldn't go camping because it was dirty and scarey.
Because of the lengthiness of the previous explanation, I will comment briefly on my yogic discipline. I love yoga. I love how it makes me feel, and how it helps me relax and take control over my body. I do it all the time. I am not that good, but I do have a mean Full Bow Pose. I will give myself credit for that one.
I also live at the Knock-Up. It is our apartment name. It is a long story.
And I am from Minnesota. I just visited this weekend, my dad runs the WorldPerks program for Northwest Airlines, so it is safe to say that I am a frequent flyer. If any of you are members of the WorldPerks program, it is very probable that you get letters from my father updating you on the status of your account.
I do have a pretty goofy accent.


However, my elbows truly are double jointed, I do have a very long tongue, and I really really really like to eat cake.

Cassidy's | Interesting Fact

The best thing about being a kid is experimenting. From the ages of 3 through 10 I feel like that’s all we did. We took time out of every day to see what kind of disgusting crazy potions we could make. Whether or not we could shove marbles up our noses and still be able to breath. Making sure that we peeled every single grotesque item off of the side walk and plopped it into our mouths, just so we could say at school the next day “I know what that tastes like!”

Well, one fine day I was walking through the grocery store with my mom and I decided to experiment. This experiment consisted of pulling and twisting everything on my body till I could find something that looked abnormal. Guess what…I found something. I can dislocate both of my shoulder blades. Finding something abnormal on your body is not satisfying. It’s the look people give you when you’re popping and pulling at your abnormalities that make you want to scream out, “ha-ha yes!” Let me tell you, the way my mom’s face twisted when I showed her my shoulder was like a huge sign that read “Success!” If you ever need a good face twisting come find me!

Beth's Interesting Fact Explained

I have double jointed thumbs. My thumbs can bend back really far, sort of into an rounded L shape. Most of the people in my family have them too. So I never thought that it was an interesting fact until my friends at school thought it was so wierd. I haven't found it particularly useful but it's a pretty neat thing to be able to do. Maybe if I had it in my shoulders I could dothat thing where people can clasp their hands togethert and step clear through their arms. That would be way more entertaining than just my thumbs.

Tara | Interesting Fact Expanded

I lived in Dodge City, Kansas until I was sixteen years old. It doesn't take long to establish your tornado routine when you live in Kansas. One learns quickly that if you see the sky darken and the wind picks up, mother nature is often waiting to grace you with her fury. The tornado sirens begin screaming, the power goes out, and people in their right minds find shelter immediately. Others stay outside and watch the magestic funnel cloud wreak havok on everything in it's path. My family of eight people would all gather in one tiny, windowless room in our basement, flashlights in hand, where we would huddle around the battery powered radio and listen for the much anticipated all clear to ring out. Luckily we lived right in the middle of town where the worst damage would usually be a few lost shingles, a lot of tree limbs and other rubble all over the streets, and sometimes hail would damage cars and houses . The most unfortunate ones were people living on the outskirts of town, especially people in trailor parks. Tornadoes just tear those to shreds.

Cassi's Interesting Fact Expanded

Hello, my name is Cassi, and I am a cheese addict. (Somewhere, a room full of pathetic-looking people unenthusiastically chorus, “Hello, Cassi.”)

Yes, it’s true. I’m addicted to cheese. Now, as you read this you may think, “So? A lot of people like cheese. That’s not very unusual.” Let me explain– I’m grossly, horribly, unnaturally in love with cheese. I practically bathe my food in it. I get a warm, fuzzy feeling at the very sight of it. I’ve been trying desperately to kick my terribly unhealthy habit in order to lose weight, but I truly believe that divine intervention stepped in to stop me from walking away from cheesy happiness.

The other day, my roommate called me into the kitchen. She had a box full of cheeses and said, “Hey, a semi carrying a bunch of dairy rolled over and my mom got us all this free cheese. I hope you’ll help me eat it. There’s boxes of it here.” Now, a normal person might ask about the semi. Was anyone hurt? How did it happen? But, as I said, I’m not a normal person, and I answered thusly: “Cheese? Oh wow.... oh wow... look at all the cheese... Are you kidding me? It’s like a sign from God, and He’s saying, ‘Eat, child. Eat the cheese, for it is good.”

Sidney Jordan's | Intresting Fact

You have all seen the show The Real World; well it's secretly going on right here in our own town. The reason I know all of this, is because I live there. Our house is a mad one, 24/7. There is always something crazy and dramatized going on. Our Real World house is never boarding.

To start off we have a Bi-racial couple. Her parents don't want them together. But they are planning to go sneak off and get married in Vegas. Then she will come home and tell them that there married so they won’t be able to do anything about it. I don't want to be there when that hits the fan. We all laugh get a good laugh from it.

We’re kickin’-it Ann Frank Style, see there are two girls living there that aren’t paying rent. So we hide them in the basement when ever the land lords happen to stop by. To make things just a little bit more interesting, we have a married Mormon couple living in the same house as a lesbian couple. The Mormons don't seem to weirder out by the Lesbians. They are actually friends; they just don't have too much to talk about. One of our room mates only comes home once every four weeks and so we always have to catch her up on all of the drama and stories that she's missed. This usually takes awhile. I think she is happy when she leaves again.

We have a single girl living here too. She just sleeps with the dog. Oh yeah and I can't forget to mention that out dog is an alcoholic. She will drink anything that’s in a glass bottle. If we have something and were not sharing she will get violent. She's a mean drunk. So we have to be careful about putting empties on the floor.

Our house is very exciting.

Roma P | Interesting Fact

This may not seem like a common "interesting fact" about me since it's about my parents, but it's a cute, unusual little story of how they met and after all, they are the reason I'm here today. Unlike most Utah couples they weren't high school or even college sweethearts. How they met is one of the sweetest love stories I've ever heard. My mom was born and raised in India and my dad (who actually passed away when I was ten) was born and raised in Australia. My mom moved to England to finish up her college education, while my dad was also living in Europe, traveling and playing around. My mom loved the snow and skiing so she moved to Scotland, where my dad also happened to be at the time. She got a small waitressing job at a restaurant on top of one of the mountains, which coincidentally was the same mountain my dad was working on as ski patrol. During a ferocious snow storm the mountain was evacuated, and ski patrol was left to help all employees or other random people down the hill. My dad ended up finding and helping my mom and the rest is history. I just think it's so cute how two people of completely different backgrounds met in a setting that was foreign to both of them and ended up married, living in California, and now even stranger, Southern Utah.

Tyler | Interesting Fact

In the summer between my junior and senior years at high school my hometown was evacuated due to a few screwed up Coloradans with guns. They tried to hit up a casino just outside of Cortez, but were pulled over for something as stupid as expired tags on the van they’d kifed. They had some automatic weapons and decided to kill the cop. Bad choice. They ultimately ditched the van and took off into the desert wilderness, seeing as how they were survivalists and all.

Anyway, they ended up in my town and we all had to relocate, all three hundred and fifty of us. Guys shooting stuff up with automatic weapons tend to make people nervous.

I leave town, but get kicked out of the refugee camp/middle school they provided us for hitting a dumb little kid in the face with a basketball. Clearly accidental. A couple days later I’m allowed to return home to have a black helicopter blatantly followed me around for a good fifteen minutes as tried to work. It made me uncomfortable, so I flipped the thing off and went inside. The next day I got on a plane and wind up in New York, one of the largest cities in the world. The locals actually knew where I was from! We got national coverage. People in Utah don’t even know where I’m from.

Anyway, the interesting fact about me is that I flipped off a black tag-along helicopter. How many people can say they did that?

Laura's Interesting Fact Expanded

I graduated from high school knowing exactly what I was going to be when I grew up. I disdained those who half-heartedly mumbled, “I don’t know” whenever they were asked this all-important question by teachers and peers. But then…I got a little lost along the way:

You see, originally I was going to be a journalist, but then the scholarship didn’t come through right away from the school I really wanted to attend—so while I was waiting I attended the junior college in my hometown. While there, I worked on the school newspaper and decided journalism wasn’t for me. Meanwhile my scholarship came through, so I was off to St. John’s College with no clue as to what I would do with my life. As freshman year turned into junior year, I still had no idea how to answer that crucial question and St. John’s wasn’t exactly helpful in this regard—their philosophy is more like, “Let’s see how confused we can get you before you graduate.” (You try studying the history of western thought in depth and see where that gets you—can you say Nietzsche?)

Anyway, so I decided to take a break from the liberal arts and check out a couple majors at a more conventional college. In the end, I decided Psychology summed up the heart of my confusion best, and obtained a BS in Psychology at Utah State—that’s 3!

Then, I decided a master’s in Psychology really wasn’t for me—at least not yet—and that I really wanted to work with teenagers and study English. (I had rejected this option earlier as being too impractical—ha, ha!) So, here I am at SUU studying to be a high school English teacher, still an undergraduate, since a bachelor’s is cheaper than a master’s, and finally that’s 4! Fourth time’s the charm!

Alison | Interesting Fact

I’ve been told that my photography speaks. It’s been said that my pictures carry a story or even a poem in the eyes of my subject. A cartoonist friend of mine, who is a remarkably good artist, once told me that he wished he could draw like I can take photographs. That seemed very odd to me because I had to construct photos and he could draw whatever he saw in his mind. He explained it to me this way: "When I look at your pictures I don’t just see what you saw, I see what you thought. The image isn’t important, the feeling is, and for some reason the message comes through loud and clear." He loved to write about my pictures and illustrate my poetry, though he always insisted they were the same.

I’ve won competitions with my photography. My instructor said that I was so good because when I heard words or phrases abstract images immediately come to my mind that I had a knack for sorting through. That’s probably why I like poetry so much. The first competition I won was actually the first one I competed in. The topic was "Emotions" and I turned in a picture of a rose impaled by safety pins. The judges called it acid and cold, but also beautiful. They took the liberty of titling it "Love Hurts" and presented me with first place. After that I competed in every competition I could, not always winning but always doing well and receiving some interesting comments. My interesting insights have gotten me in trouble in some instances. Feel free to ask me why my friend James’ nickname is Jesus. That one got me disqualified, but we thought it was funny.

The image above is a photograph that won a regional competition in Cochise County. It doesnt have a title but, if it helps, the topic was "Street Life".

Mara | interesting fact

Tuesday, September 06, 2005

I believe that there are way to many interesting facts about me to tag one down and put it on paper, but since this is an assignment, I figured I should do it. For a few moments after I was told that I had to find an interesting fact about me, I was in a stupor of thought. I didn't know what I could write on the little orange paper that was interesting. So I thought of the one thing that seems to have defined my whole life up until this time, the only reason that this interesting fact defines my life is because I use it for all the times previous of telling interesting facts. I have been using this fact since I was little and could remember anything interesting about me. It seems to be the only clear memory for me at the young age I was. So the interesting fact about me is that...

At the age of 2 years old I flushed my mother's entire collection of Jewelery down the toliet. Now, you can probably guess as to why I would do so crazy a thing at that young age. Well you don't have to guess, I will tell you. I liked to watch the way the water swirled around the jewelery. It was beautiful to see the diamonds sparkle as the light rushed around them and they swirled to the bottom of the bowl. I have also been told that I didn't just get to the rings or the necklaces, oh no, I got to the watches and everything else you can imagine. Nothing was safe from my prying hands. Everything you can think of, every single ring, every single ear ring, and watch and necklace was gone. Nothing was left. My mother has told me of what happened when she found me flushing away in her bathroom. She has said that I looked at her with joy on my tiny face and pointing to the bowl giggling and clapping my hands at how pretty it was to see things being flushed down the toliet. She was so pissed. Priceless, pieces of jewelery that had meant so much where now gone from the world, well actually they where still in the world, but now they had been flushed down the toliet to the poop infested water underground. Anyway to make a long story short she was angry and sad that she lost so many things, but she new that everything would be alright. I being 2 years old didn't really know what was going on, but I was happy, and soon my mother wasn't so sad and she begain her collection again. But I can honestly say that she keeped the new collection well out of my reach.

So My interesting fact is that I happened to flush things down the toliet. Yes, that is my interesting fact that I have been telling people since I was in elementary school. People who I went to school with still probably think of that girl, who was a little shy and weird, who would some day grow up to be famous, as the girl who flushed her mothers jewelery down the toliet.

Elyse's Interesting Fact Expanded

I intensely dislike driving automatic transmission vehicles. They are the blight of my driving career. Even when I was learning how to drive, I never felt truly in control of a car unless I was driving a stick shift. The moment I had my learner’s permit, I begged my dad to teach me how to drive with a clutch. Ever since then, when I’ve had a choice, I’ve been in control of a manual transmission automobile.

Maybe part of the reason I don’t care for them is I’m afraid I’ll mess something up when I drive. I’ve been driving a manual for so long, it’s hard to keep my foot from trying to find the clutch when it’s time to shift. My foot stamps repeatedly on the floor of the car trying to find the clutch pedal. Instead of finding a clutch pedal, my foot usually finds the brake. Also, my hand automatically reaches for the gearshift, frantically attempting to shift gears. What’s there, instead, is not to shift the car into different driving forward gears, but all kinds of other gears. I’ve unintentionally shifted into one of the lower drive gears while driving an automatic. Not what you want to have happen while driving down the road.

I suppose what I really like about driving a manual transmission is the control. I have dominion over the car and the car is subject to me. Call me a control freak if you will, but it’s my car. When I’m in my car, it’s up to me to make sure my car can handle whatever I encounter. Instead of having the decision wrested from me, I get to decide what gear to use when, and I like it.

Sarah's | Interesting Fact Expanded

I love rappelling. The higher the cliff the better. Most people are afraid of heights, but I love them!! Nothing helps me relax more and have a better time than dangling from a centimeter thick rope two hundred feet above the ground. I started rappelling with my family when I was sixteen and now I go every chance I get. I especially like going down to Zion Canyon with its beautiful red walls.

Shannon's “Interesting” Fact Justified

I’m afraid that I am a lot like Jordan with this post… Had I known my “interesting” fact was going to be displayed for the world’s access; I probably would have chosen something both more interesting and complimentary. Ok, here I go to get it over with. I once choked on a grape and needed the Heimlich to dislodge it. This doesn’t shine a flattering or realistic light on my intelligence, especially since I was copying something I saw in a movie when it happened. And that is soooo not me. I Shannon am not a follower of trends, fads, stunts or pop culture (Which includes movies) at all.

Anyway the movie was called Maria Full of Grace. It was about a girl from Colombia who worked as a mule, or as a woman who swallows condoms full of cocaine, and then smuggles them into the U.S for resale. (If you like movies with sunshine and flowers, this movie is not for you. But if your socially conscious, or use cocaine you really should see it.) Anyway, in the movie this girl practices for swallowing the cocaine packets by first trying to swallow grapes whole…She made it look really hard and well, at dinner after watching the movie one thing led to another and I ended up bumbling around the table with my hands at my throat and my eyes bugging out. My dads German instincts kicked in and he promptly initiated the Heimlich maneuver.

What am I trying to get at here? I’m not really sure. I guess I could get all analytical and say that my subconscious was punishing me for try to swallow that grape, that emblem of the greatest gain through the least amount of work possible…for copycatting someone else… and not just anyone, but cocaine smuggling, pregnant, unmarried, girl who disrespected her mother (How low could I go!) Or I could just say that I was Muy Estupido, both by swallowing that grape and by writing that humiliating fact down on the card. Anyway, I hope you got a good laugh, or you’re at least confused after reading this, because I sure as hell am!

Christie Fordham | Interesting Fact Expanded

I have a horrible addiction with fire. It intrigues and pulls me into its mystery. The way it moves, tempts, circles, and threatens the senses attract me to it. In life, whenever I feel unstable or frustrated, I start a fire and let out my problems. When I say start a fire I strictly mean that I have a laid back ceremony in the mountains with friends who need the stress reliever as well. Many memories of my high school years involve late nights around the fire laughing, crying, or just contemplating with one another. When I think fire, I think of good times, free times, and the risk of ever being caught. It has gotten to the point where we are no longer afraid of fire. Of course once and a while someone would get burned, but we handled the situations very well and are no longer afraid of what can happen to the body when an accident occurs. I have a horrible addiction with fire. Yet if you think about it, it’s not so horrible after all.

Jenny's interesting fact

My interesting fact was that my husband and I are having a baby. But the fun part is that we found out yesterday that we are having a little boy. My husband is very excited about that!! We are both excited.

Raymond's interesting fact

I am a fluent speaker of the Russian language. I served my mission in the Donetsk, Ukraine mission and I loved it there. I was able to see the whole eastern side of Ukraine. It's a crazy place and I hope that I'll be able to write about some of the crazy experiences that I had there. Maybe we should re-name this site to "Stranger Than Ukraine." Although, if I were to pick a strange place, Wal-Mart would definately be my choice.
I also mentioned that I made my own hunting knife over the summer. I love to hunt and fish and be outdoors. And I woked for a guy over the summer who makes Damascus Steel. He's world famous and he let me choose a piece of his steel to make a knife. It's pretty sweet. Maybe I can bring it to class for show and tell. What do you think?

Brittany’s Interesting Fact Explained

It’s true, I know about the redhead connection. Unfortunately, you can never fully understand the redhead connection unless, well, you have red hair. The redhead connection isn’t hard to understand. The name says it all- it’s a special connection between every redhead ever born. I have found through research that no other hair color can say that they have a connection. True, everyone classifies blondes and everyone has heard the various hair jokes, but not every blonde can say that they connect on a ‘blonde’ level. The same goes for brunettes. But ask any redhead, when we meet each other for the first time, or just even see each other, there is an instant relationship for the sheer fact that you share the same color of hair. I have tried to figure out a reason for this… Is it because of our numbers? Is it because of the freckles? Is it because we all were the ugly scrawny redhead that everyone picked on? There is no clear-cut answer, but the truth is, all that can be said about the redhead connection is that- it’s the redhead connection.

interseting fact

I see people/things in my sleep. The reason I know this is one night a friend of mine was spending the night and we were sleeping, when all of a sudden I sat up and pointed to the other side of the room and asked who that was. My friend said that he didn't know what did I see? I told him I saw a person sitting in my chair and that they weren't welcome in my house. Right after that I fell back asleep as fast as I sat up. When I was told in the morning what I saw I didn't remember a thing and apparently this has happened more then once.

Chelsea's Interesting Fact Expanded

I'm an indecisive person. That wasn't actually the interesting fact that I wrote on the card. It's just a little background information leading up to the admittance that I did, in fact, write two facts on the little yellow card. I will expand upon the second one.
My family has a farmhouse in Mt. Pleasant, Utah. If anyone has been there, they would know that it is a particularly small and dusty place. Anyway, one weekend while my family was there, my mom and I went shopping in the museum gift shop. It shouldn't really be called a gift shop so much as a thrift shop because most of the items there are from peoples' basements. Although it's all rather charming. On this day I discovered the most glorious item that I would ever purchase from there: a stuffed Pillsbury Doughboy. He looked at me with his round, blue, plastic eyes and I knew I had to have him. I also bought him a hand-done doily which I fashioned into a cape.
Since then, I have had an obsession with the Pillsbury Doughboy. I love all his commercials and will buy the Pillsbury brand even if another one is cheaper.