So I'm making a blog...

So ... I have been reading a lot of blogs lately. And I was said to myself "Hey... you are smart and amusing, Kara... you could start your own blog." But then my two sides to my brain got in an argument.

Positive side: You can do it! You are amazing! Go to blogspot right now!

Negative side: You are a stupid turd-face! Yah, you might have good ideas, but then once you start typing them down they start to blend together until all you are left with is nasty mashed together crap.

Positive side: Hey..... that wasn't very nice. Sometimes if Kara thinks really hard and slows her million-miles-an-hour brain down just a bit, and then rereads what she writes 14 times, her thoughts make sense... kind of.

Negative side: Exactly my point. Kara would never read over her crap... you know this, Possi (Negative's nickname for Positive Side)

Positive side: uh..... Kara can move her pinky toe independently from all her other toes, which means she can do ANYTHING.

And here I am.

You might be wondering : why the weird title "Small Town Side Effects?" Well, curious blog-reader (if I even have a reader yet... as of now this is my own personal diary, because no one knows of me yet. But soon... yes, very soon, my diary will be known to the world!).......... where was I going with this?

Oh yes, ahem. Curious blog-reader, I grew up in a small town called Homedale Idaho. And because of growing up in this town, I am permanently damaged as an adult.

For example, I met a guy who lives in my apartment complex not too long ago. Sure enough I developed somewhat of a crush on him... not too big of a crush, because two of my roommates also liked him, and I didn't want to become a man-thief, so I kept my undying love to him a secret.

One day we were talking, and the generic question "Where are you from" came up. I proudly answered "Homedale Idaho. You probably have never heard of it, it is a small town outside --" (I was about to dive into details about my town, where it was located, and the high rates of inbreeding before Crush rudely interrupted me.)

Crush: yah I know homedale. My parents are from there.

Me: (silence)

Crush: (awkward silence)

Me: (look of pure disappointment on my face)

Crush: Uh...... whats wrong?

Me: Your family is from Homedale?

Crush: .......... ya

Me: (Sighed very loudly... put my head between my knees.) We are probably cousins or something

Crush: hahahahahahaa

(clearly he didn't grasp the seriousness of the situation... I can understand why, seeing as how he didn't actually GROW UP in Homedale. Had he grown up in Homedale, he would have understood what living in the same small town entails. It means that if you wanted to date somebody in high school, you had to do a genealogy check on the person, tracing your family back generations to make sure that you WERE NOT related to them. And most times you were. And most times, people dated anyway.)

So I called up my mom, and gave her my crush's last name. She was like, "oh yah... your great aunt is cousins with his 2nd cousin twice removed." I sat there for a while, trying to figure out how that made me and Crush related, and wondering if our children would have eleven toes if we were to have kids. Reason won. I had to end my secret undying love for Crush.

So that next Sunday, I wrote Crush a love note (I live in BYU housing, and every Sunday there is a giant love note writing fest... everyone writes everyone little notes that say things like "you are really cool" or "I like your hair.") So I wrote one to Crush saying "Guess what? We are related!"

But you see, everyone writes love notes at the same time, and then you get your notes about 10 pm. So Crush, who was still happy and obliviously unaware that we were related, sent me a love note saying "Your hair is like a running river, cascading down the bank. Your eyes are like pigeon doves. Your toes are like alien fingers."

Too bad this guy couldn't work out. His love notes were bomb.