Monday, October 27, 2008


Sooooooooo . . .
I wrote it with the simple intention of getting something in return.

This is a basic mad libs type story.

Fill in the blanks and what have you. Except you can put whatever you want in the blanks and no one will berate your vocabulary or for using pig-latin.

(Remember our agreement, Jonathan Myles Norberg. You owe me. A deals a deal. A promise made via text messaging is a promise. Stand! I said, STAND UP BOY, and uphold your hardworked eagle scout honor and procla . . . I'll stop that now . . . but know that I'm not joking in any sense of the word.)

. . . and in that instant, Jon became a legend.


With his parents 2,000 miles away (and rising . . . a cruise to Antartica isn't some ______ in the _____), Jon decided to be ________ and call all the _______ honeys as well as all the dope _______ in the tri-city area, 'cause HE was going to throw a ______ _______ ______ party . . . and when I say party, of course I mean the most ______ _______ party in the history of Ridgemont High School. This was going to be THE party of his young _______ life, as well as secure him the title of ________ ________ __________________, as well as the girl of his _______, the most _______ and _______ girl in school, ________ _________. Quite honestly, due to a _________ chemical imbalance and a serious of unfortunate and embarrassing mishaps and what have you, Miss ________ never actually met Mr. Jon. Jon had, in the past, tried many different ________ to get _______'s attention, time and time again and again. And just how do you expect to _______ the girl of your dreams if you've never even met her? Hmmm?

The day of the party finally arrived, and Jon practically ________ his _______ due to the excitement of the frivolities to come. This was his night. This was his first step into popularity and jello shots. He put on his favorite ______, _______, and _____, then spent _____ in front of a mirror for about ______ and examining every inch of his ______. The music was the standard issue of "bumpin", the fridge was stocked with _______ and imported ________, and every single family picture was _________ beneath ________ (mostly to preserve Jon's secret of the 8 years in a neck brace and protective goggles . . . plus he was pretty sure his mom was too ________ and_______, and he didn't want to tempt his friends with such a cougar . . . rarr).

The doorbell ______ , and the Jon's little boy heart ______ with excitement. People came _______ in from every opening into the house: doors, windows, chimneys, etc. The music was _______, the lights were _______, and the ________ throng of _______ ________ bodies was _______ with ________. From across the _____ Jon saw that ______ goddess of 4th period algebra, that ______ with a heart of gold, that little ______ who put the ______ back in the ________. He started to ______ his way across the room, which started to ______ run in slow motion and become _________ and ________ (not unlike that scene from West Side Story when at the dance at the gym, Natalie Wood, quite fakely playing a Puerto Rican, falls for that dashing young white fellow. Scandal.)

He started across the _____ dance floor, people magically making space for him to _____ through, as if he was a modern day Moses leading the _____ to _______ . . . and he walked straight up to that _____ girl, _____ her hand, then consoled her as she wept tears of gratitude to finally meet Jon, the host of such a ____ ____ party, the new king of the lunchroom (come Monday), and the future ________ of her _______.

This is what Jon thought SHOULD have happened.


Jon never saw who _____ed him in the eye. He also never guessed that a ____ to the solar plexus would hurt as bad as it did. He also decided that high-heels to the _____ were a fate worse than _____. After about ____ minutes of continuous injury, Jon should have probably ____ ___. But, no he pressed on. In his love-_____ daze, whilest trying to ________ a wave of nausea, and haste to introduce himself FINALLY to the ______ in question who was just _____ feet away, almost within ______ distance, Jon never noticed the silver-plated punch bowl _____ through the air, splattering punch down over the _____ of the crowd like it was pig's blood and they were Carrie (and obviously this was that ill-fated prom of the 1980's), only stopping after ____ Jon right in the _______, _____ throwing his _____ feet into the ____ and into a small _____ (strangely enough, while crashing into said _____, Jon vaguely remembered telling his mother was a eyesore, as all nick-knacks and unnecessary funiture are. He _____ himself off the ____, only to immediately be swallowed up again by the rampaging, and now angry and punch-sticky crowd, and was _____ and trampled like a one-legged man at the running of the bulls. But Jon, was in this for the long haul, he was going to talk to that ______ _____ girl if it was the last ____ he ever ___, concussion or no.

Jon never made it across the dance floor. Someone, noticing the amount of swelling, the rapid rate of rising bruises, and perhaps this certain someone was easily disturbed by protruding bones and had the tendancy for being a bit blood-a-phobic (Jon's ____ never was the fastest clogging bodily fluid and a double broken _____ never really encouraged swift healing) called an 911, who sent out _____ ambulances, _____ police cars, _______ LDS missionaries, ______ fire trucks, and a helicoptor for life-flight.

It was while being ________ to a gurny, having air tubes ______ up his _____ and cotton stuffed in every other orifice of his face that Jon raised one mangled fist to say that he could not be conquered . . . and in that instant, Jon became a legend . . . but mostly for having the party be broken up due to personal injury. Plus, I think some kids found those family portraits . . .

I never ____ that this was going to be a happy story. Suckers.

Monday, October 13, 2008

Queens for a Day

Things that I love October 13, 2008:

There will always be a reason for me to dance. This was just today's.

Sunday, October 5, 2008

Saturday, October 4, 2008

Today, I used your umbrella.

I often accidently talk about other boys I've dated in front of the boys I actually like or am dating or want to kiss on the mouth repeatedly and tell secrets to.

(A special "thank you" goes out to Jessica P . . . I probably should have been told that about 7 years ago. Ugh. Where is my guardian angel that keeps my tongue from wagging?)

It's a good thing I'm a math whiz.

Sigur Ros was beautiful concert.
I saw the girl in front of me lean her head on the shoulder of the boy next to her.
I looked left and a young man in a beanie kept his hands to his face, catching tears.
I touched my cheeks with my fingertips trying to remember the exact color of your eyes.
I turned my head to find where you were, and got lost in a sea of faces and half faces and eyebrows and foreheads all glowing golden.
I looked up and caught confetti on my tongue like it was a snowflake.

I found this in my old notebook in one of my old purses during my recent move to Provo . . . I think I wrote it when I was in a sling for a few weeks last fall:
"Here I go writing down the same poem again. It's like, it's as if, it's just . . . eating my insides, making it a more mallable gum. My liver lost shape. I lost my kidneys to personality cancer and my stomach to the longest winter ever."

I finally found all my lost limbs limbs and gave a strict talking to my misbehaving joints under my covers after my nap last Friday. I'm feeling altogether whole. Good, better, best. Maybe it's the cold air and scarf weather sewing up my stitches and filling in my cracks with wax like a Grecian sculpture. I am every bit alive.

This is what I want to do for the rest of my life.