Recently I've been trying to reshape my attitude about a few things. Most of these things involve the mistaken idea that I have that I'm somehow entitled to them, just by sake of being a good person.
See, I think that Fridays/the Weekends are my most common area of this sort of thing. The only other area that I can think of that I really do this is with naps. I seem to be under the false idea that because I live in America, and because I work pretty hard all week doing homework and the like, that I'm entitled to make Friday afternoons/evenings, and eventually the whole weekend, all mine. I think I get part of the idea because of the society that I've grown up in...but I've recently come to realize that I don't actually have any real entitlement to a weekend that I own all for myself--I don't work nearly hard enough that I really need that. I have classes during the week, but I don't actually DO anything that would be considered hard enough that I should feel irritation when asked to attend some church auxiliary programs--like choir. I shouldn't feel put out because I have to get up early on a Saturday morning because I'm going to a Relief Society Visiting Teaching activity--and I certainly shouldn't feel remotely pouty because I have to work on a Friday night. The truth is I should probably work harder on the days when no one is asking me to. I should be cleaner when no one is coming to visit, and I should be most productive when I have the time, and not when I've wasted it all in procrastinating.
I'm slow at this process...but I'm trying. I doubt that I'll ever perfect it--I might get better at lacking in procrastination, but I'll still probably feel slightly irritated when I have to do something on a Saturday, or when I have to work on a weekend. I'm working on it though--because I definitely don't feel like I've earned the right to feel entitled to those kinds of things yet.
Sunday, September 11, 2005
Thursday, September 08, 2005
Fascinated by the Fascinating
You know, I'm really interested in what exactly it is that people find fascinating or captivating. In fact, I'm fascinated by it. I'm probably one of the few people who studies history who finds the history of history (historiography for someone who'd like a few more cents in their word) almost as engaging as history itself. Why do people write about what they do? Why do we record some things, and decide that others are entirely irrelevant, and what is it about our memories that makes certain facts more important depending on the time? Why do certain things fascinate people, while other things seem almost universally unappealing? Why don't we have more histories of things like the footnote, or the effect of medieval earthworms on the surfdoms of Eastern Russia? What makes things like Hitler and WWII so widely studied and written about while other subjects lie virtually untouched? What exactly makes some people interesting, and others boring?
This brings me to an interesting question we've talked about in my history class--is there any way to really record and report on the "truth" since all history is based on someone's memory, and human memory is riddled with imperfections? I don't think that it will ever be possible to write the complete and truthful history of the world in this life--I'm hoping to be on that committee once I reach the other side. I'm not totally skeptical either though. I think it's kind of like Newton's Physics V. The Einstein Model. Sure, Einstein is closer, and more correct--but Newton is simpler, and he's correct enough for things to work out. I think that's the way that history works--sure we can't be totally right about every event that happened in attempting to reconstruct the past, but we can get close enough. I'm just hoping that as I write papers and reports and the like, that I won't run into someone in Heaven and find out that I interpreted their life completely wrong. Sometimes when studying poetry or short stories and the like, I often wonder if the people who wrote it and are now dead just sit there and laugh at the students who are analyzing their every word. I think it goes something like this:
Edgar Allen Poe: "What? They think that silly bird has some kind of meaning? HA! I just used a raven because it sounded better than 'quoth the cockatoo!' Kids these centuries!"
Robert Frost: "Yeah, that little 'miles to go before I sleep' bit was just me, whining about being tired. The misses used to hate it when I complained to her out loud, so I just had to write it down.
Shakespeare: "What about Hamlet? 'To be or not to be' was just the edited version of the script before that, where Hamlet tries to decide his future career. The original bit went 'To be a scruples-free, free-loading, usury collecting, freedom killing beast, or not to be?' The first guy cast as Hamlet couldn't remember his whole line."
Anyway, I think my point was that there is truth, and we shouldn't give up on it--keep getting as close as we can to it, but just realize the limitations. Again, as my history teacher said, "We've all got this Whale to eat, how are we going to do it? By taking one bite at a time--just realize that you're only taking one bite."
This brings me to an interesting question we've talked about in my history class--is there any way to really record and report on the "truth" since all history is based on someone's memory, and human memory is riddled with imperfections? I don't think that it will ever be possible to write the complete and truthful history of the world in this life--I'm hoping to be on that committee once I reach the other side. I'm not totally skeptical either though. I think it's kind of like Newton's Physics V. The Einstein Model. Sure, Einstein is closer, and more correct--but Newton is simpler, and he's correct enough for things to work out. I think that's the way that history works--sure we can't be totally right about every event that happened in attempting to reconstruct the past, but we can get close enough. I'm just hoping that as I write papers and reports and the like, that I won't run into someone in Heaven and find out that I interpreted their life completely wrong. Sometimes when studying poetry or short stories and the like, I often wonder if the people who wrote it and are now dead just sit there and laugh at the students who are analyzing their every word. I think it goes something like this:
Edgar Allen Poe: "What? They think that silly bird has some kind of meaning? HA! I just used a raven because it sounded better than 'quoth the cockatoo!' Kids these centuries!"
Robert Frost: "Yeah, that little 'miles to go before I sleep' bit was just me, whining about being tired. The misses used to hate it when I complained to her out loud, so I just had to write it down.
Shakespeare: "What about Hamlet? 'To be or not to be' was just the edited version of the script before that, where Hamlet tries to decide his future career. The original bit went 'To be a scruples-free, free-loading, usury collecting, freedom killing beast, or not to be?' The first guy cast as Hamlet couldn't remember his whole line."
Anyway, I think my point was that there is truth, and we shouldn't give up on it--keep getting as close as we can to it, but just realize the limitations. Again, as my history teacher said, "We've all got this Whale to eat, how are we going to do it? By taking one bite at a time--just realize that you're only taking one bite."
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
Unfortunate Realities
- If you make yourself a delicious tuna fish sandwhich with sharp cheddar cheese and do not remove the bowl in which you mixed the tuna, your room will smell like cat food about 30 minutes later.
- A half gallon of BYU Creamery Orange juice is taller than a regular glass of orange juice. This means that if you are trying to be slightly more civilized about drinking directly from the carton and you use a bendy straw, it can still fall into the drink.
- If the straw is bent, it will float on the top of the orange juice, tauntingly
- Even the best bagels can mold.
- No amount of procrastination will make you want to do your studying more--it just makes you want to find more things to do to procrastinate...like make silly lists about procrastinating.
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Falling Awake
I'm a really, really odd sleeper.
Recently, I've been reflecting on odd things I do when I sleep...or right before I sleep. I've come up with the following list of odd traits.
First, I make a funny sort of sighing noise when I'm right on between sleep and awake. This seems to be a recent development in my sleeping habits, as it now wakes me up on occasion, or it becomes the last thing I hear before sleeping. The unfortunate thing is that it doesn't just apply to falling asleep cozy in my bed at night...I also do it if I happen to be in a class and falling asleep. Thankfully, it's usually enough to wake me up. I was in a religion class a couple of semesters ago in which I started to fall asleep. Fight as I might, it didn't matter, I fell asleep...and did so right when the teacher finished a sentence. The situation went something like this:
Teacher: "The New Testament is a true book"
Me: "huuuh..." (this came out sounding skeptical)
The teacher then looked around to see who was disagreeing with his statement, and I sort of shrunk into my seat feeling blasphemous.
The second thing I do that's funny about sleeping is that I seem to stay in whatever position I fall asleep in throughout the night. Once, I fell asleep on my back with my hands clasped in front of me...sorta like "dead" Snow White, and I stayed basically that way. Yesterday, I flopped down on my bed in a manner that looked much like the typical body outline (see image at left) . Stayed that way all night...
I've also got an amazing imagination. I have really hilariously vivid dreams that I remember, about situations that would make really funny student films. My most recent odd dream that made me laugh a lot when I woke up involved a young man of whom I am very, very fond and his homecoming. He started dating another girl without telling me that we were no longer dating. I asked him about it, and he apologized very kindly. I asked him why it was that he wanted to date her instead of me, and he, apparently thinking I was too thin, replied, "She has more rolls than you." This may only be really hilarious to you if you know me in person, because while I am no whale, I'm certainly not on the verge of anorexia...I'm laughing about this right now as I write about it.
I do a bunch of other things in my sleep too sometimes--I talk, and sometimes with great vigor of hand motion...much like I talk whilst I'm awake. I occasionally grind my teeth...usually when I'm stressed out about something, or in an unfamiliar place. I also seem to be in the habit of trying to convince people how awake I am when I first get up by talking up a storm--I just keep going on and on in an attempt to wake myself up and show how intelligently coherent I am. Unfortunately, these conversations are never brilliant...much as I would like them to be. I generally try to talk to people about how rude it is for RM's to reach across people to get rollerblades, or about something that happened in a movie that I fell asleep in that I vaguely remembered and then incorporated into my dream. The things that come out of my mouth are very rarely rational, and very usually amusing.
Speaking of sleeping, it's now time for me to head back to class. It seems today that I can't really keep my eyes open, and so I've gone and done the logical thing...I've blogged about sleeping instead of taking a nap.
Recently, I've been reflecting on odd things I do when I sleep...or right before I sleep. I've come up with the following list of odd traits.
First, I make a funny sort of sighing noise when I'm right on between sleep and awake. This seems to be a recent development in my sleeping habits, as it now wakes me up on occasion, or it becomes the last thing I hear before sleeping. The unfortunate thing is that it doesn't just apply to falling asleep cozy in my bed at night...I also do it if I happen to be in a class and falling asleep. Thankfully, it's usually enough to wake me up. I was in a religion class a couple of semesters ago in which I started to fall asleep. Fight as I might, it didn't matter, I fell asleep...and did so right when the teacher finished a sentence. The situation went something like this:
Teacher: "The New Testament is a true book"
Me: "huuuh..." (this came out sounding skeptical)
The teacher then looked around to see who was disagreeing with his statement, and I sort of shrunk into my seat feeling blasphemous.
The second thing I do that's funny about sleeping is that I seem to stay in whatever position I fall asleep in throughout the night. Once, I fell asleep on my back with my hands clasped in front of me...sorta like "dead" Snow White, and I stayed basically that way. Yesterday, I flopped down on my bed in a manner that looked much like the typical body outline (see image at left) . Stayed that way all night...I've also got an amazing imagination. I have really hilariously vivid dreams that I remember, about situations that would make really funny student films. My most recent odd dream that made me laugh a lot when I woke up involved a young man of whom I am very, very fond and his homecoming. He started dating another girl without telling me that we were no longer dating. I asked him about it, and he apologized very kindly. I asked him why it was that he wanted to date her instead of me, and he, apparently thinking I was too thin, replied, "She has more rolls than you." This may only be really hilarious to you if you know me in person, because while I am no whale, I'm certainly not on the verge of anorexia...I'm laughing about this right now as I write about it.
I do a bunch of other things in my sleep too sometimes--I talk, and sometimes with great vigor of hand motion...much like I talk whilst I'm awake. I occasionally grind my teeth...usually when I'm stressed out about something, or in an unfamiliar place. I also seem to be in the habit of trying to convince people how awake I am when I first get up by talking up a storm--I just keep going on and on in an attempt to wake myself up and show how intelligently coherent I am. Unfortunately, these conversations are never brilliant...much as I would like them to be. I generally try to talk to people about how rude it is for RM's to reach across people to get rollerblades, or about something that happened in a movie that I fell asleep in that I vaguely remembered and then incorporated into my dream. The things that come out of my mouth are very rarely rational, and very usually amusing.
Speaking of sleeping, it's now time for me to head back to class. It seems today that I can't really keep my eyes open, and so I've gone and done the logical thing...I've blogged about sleeping instead of taking a nap.
A Major By Any Other Name...
I've realized that looking through a lot of the classes that I've taken at school might make it look like I'm attempting to graduate with a degree in something really useful--like World Domination, instead of History Teaching with a physics Teaching Minor. For example. I have taken (or am currently taking) all of the following classes:Totalitarianism (Political Science 458)
Russian (Russian 101)
Physics 121
European Fascisms (History 314)
Tsarist Russia (History 330)
Argentina (History 355)
Physics 123
Then you throw in those other silly classes that I've taken--Utah, Scandinavian Choir, American Heritage and the like...All just ways to round out culture right?
If BYU gets a "Build Your Own Major" program like they've got at some of the more liberal colleges...I know exactly what to go and talk to my counselor about....
Sunday, August 28, 2005
My Little Brother is Awesome...
My brother is 13, and we were talking on the phone today. He asked how old the girls on my floor were and I told him that they were mostly 18. He interrupted me by trying to tell me what my mom had said about them by saying, "Mom says that they're all giggling Frenchmen...I mean freshmen."
My favorite mental image of the afternoon...a whole floor full of giggling frenchmen...
My favorite mental image of the afternoon...a whole floor full of giggling frenchmen...
Friday, August 26, 2005
There's the Trouble...
So, yesterday I did something that most guys I've ever talked to about girls say that they want girls to do as soon as possible blah blah blah and it made me feel pretty terrible.
A guy from work called and asked me to go on a date. We went bowling and then had dinner...it was fun, but nothing spectacular....no sparks on my side at all. My favorite part of the date was when we were joined by Debbie and Jeff...the couple in their 40's who took a motorcycle ride down to Provo from American Fork for ice cream at the creamery. They were great. Anyway. This guy asked if he could call me again...I felt bad and said "sure" with a shrug.
I knew I should have qualified that....
Anyway, he called me later and asked if he could take me to Tucanos. He had a mission Buddy visiting from Brazil and they wanted some Brazilian food. This story needs some explanation too. Here goes: One of my other friends who was out here at school (I'll just call him J) the year before I came told me that I needed to find a guy who I could seduce and take me to Tucanos, because it was expensive, but really, really good. I told this story to some guys at work...This Guy being one of them...and we'd laughed at it. He asks me by saying, "I've never been there, and I know you've never been there..."
Thankfully, I had duty as an RA when he was going, so I didn't have to tell him that I didn't want to do anything with him anymore as a date. I know...it's cowardly, but I hate hurting people's feelings.
Well, I kept thinking about it, and feeling bad that I hadn't just told him. So I finally decided just to get over it and just call the guy.
So I did it. I actually told This Guy that I didn't like him at all, and that if we were going to do anything together, then I would pay for anything I participated in because it wasn't fair to make him pay for me when we weren't in any kind of relationship because we were just friends.
Now, that's not the part that I felt terrible with. I was honest, I meant it all, and I felt good that I wasn't just stringing the guy along when I knew there was no chance at all that we'd become anything more than just friends...maybe nothing more than pure acquaintances now...*sigh*.
The guy was really nice about it all, and kept saying that he totally understood and threw in a lot of "oh, yeah, uh huh." We decided that rather than going to see a movie in his apartment lounge it'd be better to go to the LRC and watch something there, just as friends.
Today he called to cancel that part too--he said, "I feel like you're just doing it to be nice to me."
Well...yeah...but it's not like I can say that to him. He picked up on it well enough though and the conversation ended with a "see you around campus."
Bah. I'm glad the situation is resolved, and I didn't make him pay too much for it...but yikes, I sure do hate messing with people's emotions. And although it'll be better for him not to waste his time on me...I still felt like a jerk.
Yeah...that's the end. I'm hoping this is a story I can look back on in a week or so and see that it was a real "good for Novel" moment.
A guy from work called and asked me to go on a date. We went bowling and then had dinner...it was fun, but nothing spectacular....no sparks on my side at all. My favorite part of the date was when we were joined by Debbie and Jeff...the couple in their 40's who took a motorcycle ride down to Provo from American Fork for ice cream at the creamery. They were great. Anyway. This guy asked if he could call me again...I felt bad and said "sure" with a shrug.
I knew I should have qualified that....
Anyway, he called me later and asked if he could take me to Tucanos. He had a mission Buddy visiting from Brazil and they wanted some Brazilian food. This story needs some explanation too. Here goes: One of my other friends who was out here at school (I'll just call him J) the year before I came told me that I needed to find a guy who I could seduce and take me to Tucanos, because it was expensive, but really, really good. I told this story to some guys at work...This Guy being one of them...and we'd laughed at it. He asks me by saying, "I've never been there, and I know you've never been there..."
Thankfully, I had duty as an RA when he was going, so I didn't have to tell him that I didn't want to do anything with him anymore as a date. I know...it's cowardly, but I hate hurting people's feelings.
Well, I kept thinking about it, and feeling bad that I hadn't just told him. So I finally decided just to get over it and just call the guy.
So I did it. I actually told This Guy that I didn't like him at all, and that if we were going to do anything together, then I would pay for anything I participated in because it wasn't fair to make him pay for me when we weren't in any kind of relationship because we were just friends.
Now, that's not the part that I felt terrible with. I was honest, I meant it all, and I felt good that I wasn't just stringing the guy along when I knew there was no chance at all that we'd become anything more than just friends...maybe nothing more than pure acquaintances now...*sigh*.
The guy was really nice about it all, and kept saying that he totally understood and threw in a lot of "oh, yeah, uh huh." We decided that rather than going to see a movie in his apartment lounge it'd be better to go to the LRC and watch something there, just as friends.
Today he called to cancel that part too--he said, "I feel like you're just doing it to be nice to me."
Well...yeah...but it's not like I can say that to him. He picked up on it well enough though and the conversation ended with a "see you around campus."
Bah. I'm glad the situation is resolved, and I didn't make him pay too much for it...but yikes, I sure do hate messing with people's emotions. And although it'll be better for him not to waste his time on me...I still felt like a jerk.
Yeah...that's the end. I'm hoping this is a story I can look back on in a week or so and see that it was a real "good for Novel" moment.
Monday, August 22, 2005
Time Wasting 107
This is a little more advanced than just 101...
Anyway. I thought I'd blog a list of some of my favorite internet time-wasting sites...Why not? For your own time-wasting pleasure, Novel presents (in no partiular order):
How to waste your time on the internet:
More to come...
Anyway. I thought I'd blog a list of some of my favorite internet time-wasting sites...Why not? For your own time-wasting pleasure, Novel presents (in no partiular order):
How to waste your time on the internet:
More to come...
Thursday, August 18, 2005
"Neighbors, You are Tedious!"
I'm currentaly watching Much Ado About Nothing with Wafflewitz and Phoenix. That's a line from the movie.
Education week individuals are currently staying on my floor. They're pretty nice people, much more pleasant to deal with than Women's Conference, though I'm ready for someone besides them to come and live on the floor. I'm ready for the girls who are all excited for freshman year to come, and for the older couples to go home and send their freshmen to college. This morning, I walked out onto my floor to the smell of Old Spice, and the sound of Men's Voices. I'm tired of seeing young punks on the floor who come and go as they please without any kind of asking. While visiting hours can be inconvinient, it makes things easier to keep track of...and it also makes sure that there are actual foods in the vending machines. Silly kids with signature cards.
Also, women can be so irrational. Beatrice just told Benedick that if he loved her he should kill his best friend. That's pretty much the stupidest idea ever. There's no reason that men should have to do some great act to prove that they love someone. It's the small acts and kindnesses that prove that--not some singular action. Oh Beatrice...how much you make Benedick suffer...and for what?
"Ah, women. They make the highs higher and the lows more frequent."
Friedrich Nietzsche
Education week individuals are currently staying on my floor. They're pretty nice people, much more pleasant to deal with than Women's Conference, though I'm ready for someone besides them to come and live on the floor. I'm ready for the girls who are all excited for freshman year to come, and for the older couples to go home and send their freshmen to college. This morning, I walked out onto my floor to the smell of Old Spice, and the sound of Men's Voices. I'm tired of seeing young punks on the floor who come and go as they please without any kind of asking. While visiting hours can be inconvinient, it makes things easier to keep track of...and it also makes sure that there are actual foods in the vending machines. Silly kids with signature cards.
Also, women can be so irrational. Beatrice just told Benedick that if he loved her he should kill his best friend. That's pretty much the stupidest idea ever. There's no reason that men should have to do some great act to prove that they love someone. It's the small acts and kindnesses that prove that--not some singular action. Oh Beatrice...how much you make Benedick suffer...and for what?
"Ah, women. They make the highs higher and the lows more frequent."
Friedrich Nietzsche
Wednesday, August 17, 2005
It's been one week since you looked at me...
That's the way I feel about life right now. I've been so insanely busy with so much stuff lately...moving, RA training, unpacking, class scheduling and the like, that I haven't stopped to look around for a little while. You know what? I think fall is on it's way. The mountains are browning more, the leaves on some of the trees are starting to change, and the days are getting shorter. It's even been cool enough outside at night on occasion that I felt justified in wearing a sweater...and that's pretty big news for me. You know what this time of year means? Sharpened pencils, new paper, some other random office supplies, education, clothes that feel new because it's the first time other people have seen them, and a sense of excitement...at least if you're me.
Guess what else happened today? I was at RA training, and for a second I got the greatest feeling of excitement for the other RA's there. Suddenly, I became aware of their potential, and abilities, and their excitement to be there, and I was so proud of them all. I don't even know the majority of the people there, and it completely didn't matter. I was proud of them, and excited for them, and knew that they had the potential to succeed, whether or not they chose to take it. I've been doing the same thing with everyone this week. I'm seeing so much good in people, and managing to look past things that would usually make me groan slightly internally, and getting excited about the good qualities of their personalities, and their potential. It's something that makes me so excited as an RA. I get to be the goofy excited person who has tons of energy and crazy creative ideas that are cool for one reason alone, and that's because I act like they are. People have a way of doing that too. Some of them are kind of nerdy, and some of them can be pretty sad sometimes. All they really need is someone who really does believe that they're cool, honestly and sincerely, and they start to feel like they're cooler.
That's the kind of person I want to be. The kind who's so fun to be around, and so alive and passionate about what she does, that as nerdy as it, or the people that I may be around are, it just doesn't matter, because I believe in it so strongly. Someday, I'll get there. For now, I'm going to keep trying to see the good in people, because everyone needs someone to see the good in them, especially for the times when they can't seem to see it in themselves.
Guess what else happened today? I was at RA training, and for a second I got the greatest feeling of excitement for the other RA's there. Suddenly, I became aware of their potential, and abilities, and their excitement to be there, and I was so proud of them all. I don't even know the majority of the people there, and it completely didn't matter. I was proud of them, and excited for them, and knew that they had the potential to succeed, whether or not they chose to take it. I've been doing the same thing with everyone this week. I'm seeing so much good in people, and managing to look past things that would usually make me groan slightly internally, and getting excited about the good qualities of their personalities, and their potential. It's something that makes me so excited as an RA. I get to be the goofy excited person who has tons of energy and crazy creative ideas that are cool for one reason alone, and that's because I act like they are. People have a way of doing that too. Some of them are kind of nerdy, and some of them can be pretty sad sometimes. All they really need is someone who really does believe that they're cool, honestly and sincerely, and they start to feel like they're cooler.
That's the kind of person I want to be. The kind who's so fun to be around, and so alive and passionate about what she does, that as nerdy as it, or the people that I may be around are, it just doesn't matter, because I believe in it so strongly. Someday, I'll get there. For now, I'm going to keep trying to see the good in people, because everyone needs someone to see the good in them, especially for the times when they can't seem to see it in themselves.
Sunday, August 07, 2005
Leverage, says you. I think I feel a change in the winds, says I.
You know, I'm kind of glad that the summer is coming to an end. I'm excited about having not too much to do for a couple of weeks apart from RA stuff. I'm really excited about not having classes, and I'm excited to get out of my end of summer slump, as it were.
I seem to go through times when I just get into a slump. The end of summer is one of these times. Usually though, it's only one of those times if I've spent the summer working and or going to school. At home last summer, I'd spent the summer working, came back to school, had some of the best two weeks of my life, and then was excited about school...though not as a release from the summer. Coming back to Utah was my release at that point.
This summer I've been going to school, and working almost full time all summer. It's been a long time. If I hadn't already promised to be an RA, I might consider just taking the fall off....
...that's likely a bad idea though. I'd get bored halfway through the semester, and then wonder what I was thinking thinking that I needed a break in the first place, and then I'd think I was a lazy bum, start working insanely hard, and then burn myself out halfway through winter and end up needing another break.
Way to regulate, Novel...way to regulate.
Anyway, I'm excited for the change. I'm excited for a new floor, I'm excited for new RA friends, and for new classes that are going to be fun, for working hard, feeling good about myself, getting to decorate my room, getting back into a routine that allows for regular accomplishments of little things that I've been terrible at doing for the past month (letter writing, laundry, room cleaning...bad Novel...bad). Things should work out just peachy. Thank goodness. If any of you are going to be bored/not busy next saturday, I'm going to be moving into my new place. Leave a comment or send me an e-mail if you'd like to help. I'm sure that I could provide some kind of refreshment for those interesting in helping out.
You know what else I'm looking forward to? Some alone time. RA training isn't alone in the least bit...but there are a few days where I get an entire floor all to myself. I get the room...and all the other rooms, paint, butcher paper, my own favorite music blasting however I like it, and time just to be all by myself.
Don't start to get me wrong. I absolutely love being around other people. I like my roommates, I enjoy spending time with them, I think they're great fun, it just feels like I haven't had a day's worth of hours to myself the entire summer...and even with wonderful people, that can start to grate on me (Lilaea and Uffish...don't you dare start to feel badly for yourselves ;).
Hurrah for getting to create something cool...for making a place that's ugly as anything look cool, and for feeling like I'm doing something worthwhile. Hooray for changing winds.
I seem to go through times when I just get into a slump. The end of summer is one of these times. Usually though, it's only one of those times if I've spent the summer working and or going to school. At home last summer, I'd spent the summer working, came back to school, had some of the best two weeks of my life, and then was excited about school...though not as a release from the summer. Coming back to Utah was my release at that point.
This summer I've been going to school, and working almost full time all summer. It's been a long time. If I hadn't already promised to be an RA, I might consider just taking the fall off....
...that's likely a bad idea though. I'd get bored halfway through the semester, and then wonder what I was thinking thinking that I needed a break in the first place, and then I'd think I was a lazy bum, start working insanely hard, and then burn myself out halfway through winter and end up needing another break.
Way to regulate, Novel...way to regulate.
Anyway, I'm excited for the change. I'm excited for a new floor, I'm excited for new RA friends, and for new classes that are going to be fun, for working hard, feeling good about myself, getting to decorate my room, getting back into a routine that allows for regular accomplishments of little things that I've been terrible at doing for the past month (letter writing, laundry, room cleaning...bad Novel...bad). Things should work out just peachy. Thank goodness. If any of you are going to be bored/not busy next saturday, I'm going to be moving into my new place. Leave a comment or send me an e-mail if you'd like to help. I'm sure that I could provide some kind of refreshment for those interesting in helping out.
You know what else I'm looking forward to? Some alone time. RA training isn't alone in the least bit...but there are a few days where I get an entire floor all to myself. I get the room...and all the other rooms, paint, butcher paper, my own favorite music blasting however I like it, and time just to be all by myself.
Don't start to get me wrong. I absolutely love being around other people. I like my roommates, I enjoy spending time with them, I think they're great fun, it just feels like I haven't had a day's worth of hours to myself the entire summer...and even with wonderful people, that can start to grate on me (Lilaea and Uffish...don't you dare start to feel badly for yourselves ;).
Hurrah for getting to create something cool...for making a place that's ugly as anything look cool, and for feeling like I'm doing something worthwhile. Hooray for changing winds.
Thursday, August 04, 2005
Babies....Babies Everywhere!
You know what? I absolutely love children. I mean, it's not even just the occasional glance at a child with a fond memory of when I was a child. I really, truly adore the tiny beings.
Babies, especially, make me so happy. I find very little else in the world quite so satisfying as holding a baby and reaching that moment where they feel safe with you. You know that they love you, and they're just so...sweet.
You know, that's a really good word for babies. Sweet. Don't worry--I'm not on any sort of Swift kick here. I do not plan to eat any sort of child. They're just sweet. They smell sweet, they're soft, they're cuddly, and I love them. It makes me smile just to see one.
I'm really excited to get to be a mom someday. The idea that I get to take care of a small child all my own is definitely one of my happy thoughts. I'm glad that I don't have to do it right now...and I'm glad that I get to wait for at least a few years before having to face the rest of the reality of having children. For now though, it just makes me happy to get to see them, to get to hold them, and to know that someday, one day, I get the opportunity to have a family all my own.
*happy sigh*
Babies, especially, make me so happy. I find very little else in the world quite so satisfying as holding a baby and reaching that moment where they feel safe with you. You know that they love you, and they're just so...sweet.
You know, that's a really good word for babies. Sweet. Don't worry--I'm not on any sort of Swift kick here. I do not plan to eat any sort of child. They're just sweet. They smell sweet, they're soft, they're cuddly, and I love them. It makes me smile just to see one.
I'm really excited to get to be a mom someday. The idea that I get to take care of a small child all my own is definitely one of my happy thoughts. I'm glad that I don't have to do it right now...and I'm glad that I get to wait for at least a few years before having to face the rest of the reality of having children. For now though, it just makes me happy to get to see them, to get to hold them, and to know that someday, one day, I get the opportunity to have a family all my own.
*happy sigh*
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
Specialized Personalities
I've been thinking about people's personalities and marriage, which isn't surprising, I suppose, given that I'm a 20 year old female at BYU. It's something that seems to happen.
Anyway.
You know how we're always told that there isn't just one person that we could be happy in marriage with....That there are a lot of people out there with whom we could make a good, successful relationship and a happy home if we're just willing to work with them. Any two righteous temple-worthy adults, right? The idea of soul mates is one that has been (rightfully) denounced in the Church.
I really don't think I believe in soul mates, but I do think that there's a difference between not believing that there's only a single individual out there for you and believing that you could marry any individual who's righteous and be completely happy. Allow me to explain.
Some personalities are more generally compatible. It's kind of like majors. There are some majors and specializations that are easily applicable to any number of fields after graduation, things you get from most general education classes: basic history, principles of science, an appreciation of some of the more famous arts. Then there are things like specializing in the colloquialisms of the Mediterranean between the years of 1600 and 1741...Not something you can just bring up in regular conversation. Some people's personalities are the same way. There are the generally compatible with all sorts of people personalities, who have a wide selection of potential eternal companions because of the great number of people they'd be compatible with. Then there are the specialized personalities. These are people who are still wonderful, but they've got certain personality quirks that don't make it so that they could just have any old arranged marriage and make it work. There's absolutely nothing wrong with them, they've just got a narrower breadth of people with whom they could be potentially happy.
I think I'm a specialized personality, and I'm perfectly happy being that way. I get along with most everyone...But there are definitely a great many people whom I could rule out as possible marriage material; not because of any kind of unworthiness, but because I don't think we could be happy at all together barring some extraordinary change in their, or my personality. Don't start thinking that I'm walking down the street and picking out future husbands (not a chance), it's just something I've been observing as I've watched people run to get into a relationship and get married.
Something else that bugs me about other people's relationships is this: A lot of times when a girl is involved in a break-up she'll say something like, "Oh, I know there's someone better out there." I think the sentence needs to be changed. I don't think it's fair that a guy gets dumped on as soon as a relationship is over. Girls seem to do it all the time. They talk about how blind they were, how they never knew who the guy really was, or how terribly manipulated they were.
Girls, this is not fair. Sure there's someone else who's out there for you. And for you and your needs, he will likely be better. This doesn't make the guy who you broke up with scum, nor does it diminish his value as an individual. Some other person isn't better than him...He's just more suited to your needs and tastes. There are a few rare cases (generally involving abuse and the like) in which the guy really was a scum-bag, but a guy doesn't become scum just because he doesn't think your relationship is going somewhere. While break-ups are bound to be painful, don't dump on the guy, don't whine about how you didn' t know what you were getting into, and don't go being a jerk in general. Guys have feelings too, don't dump on them for dumping you, pick yourself up and move on. If you dumped him, fine. Don't talk about how you were wasting your time. Obviously there was something about the guy that you liked in the first place, or you wouldn't have ever started dating that person. Focus on the good, and move on.
Anyway.
You know how we're always told that there isn't just one person that we could be happy in marriage with....That there are a lot of people out there with whom we could make a good, successful relationship and a happy home if we're just willing to work with them. Any two righteous temple-worthy adults, right? The idea of soul mates is one that has been (rightfully) denounced in the Church.
I really don't think I believe in soul mates, but I do think that there's a difference between not believing that there's only a single individual out there for you and believing that you could marry any individual who's righteous and be completely happy. Allow me to explain.
Some personalities are more generally compatible. It's kind of like majors. There are some majors and specializations that are easily applicable to any number of fields after graduation, things you get from most general education classes: basic history, principles of science, an appreciation of some of the more famous arts. Then there are things like specializing in the colloquialisms of the Mediterranean between the years of 1600 and 1741...Not something you can just bring up in regular conversation. Some people's personalities are the same way. There are the generally compatible with all sorts of people personalities, who have a wide selection of potential eternal companions because of the great number of people they'd be compatible with. Then there are the specialized personalities. These are people who are still wonderful, but they've got certain personality quirks that don't make it so that they could just have any old arranged marriage and make it work. There's absolutely nothing wrong with them, they've just got a narrower breadth of people with whom they could be potentially happy.
I think I'm a specialized personality, and I'm perfectly happy being that way. I get along with most everyone...But there are definitely a great many people whom I could rule out as possible marriage material; not because of any kind of unworthiness, but because I don't think we could be happy at all together barring some extraordinary change in their, or my personality. Don't start thinking that I'm walking down the street and picking out future husbands (not a chance), it's just something I've been observing as I've watched people run to get into a relationship and get married.
Something else that bugs me about other people's relationships is this: A lot of times when a girl is involved in a break-up she'll say something like, "Oh, I know there's someone better out there." I think the sentence needs to be changed. I don't think it's fair that a guy gets dumped on as soon as a relationship is over. Girls seem to do it all the time. They talk about how blind they were, how they never knew who the guy really was, or how terribly manipulated they were.
Girls, this is not fair. Sure there's someone else who's out there for you. And for you and your needs, he will likely be better. This doesn't make the guy who you broke up with scum, nor does it diminish his value as an individual. Some other person isn't better than him...He's just more suited to your needs and tastes. There are a few rare cases (generally involving abuse and the like) in which the guy really was a scum-bag, but a guy doesn't become scum just because he doesn't think your relationship is going somewhere. While break-ups are bound to be painful, don't dump on the guy, don't whine about how you didn' t know what you were getting into, and don't go being a jerk in general. Guys have feelings too, don't dump on them for dumping you, pick yourself up and move on. If you dumped him, fine. Don't talk about how you were wasting your time. Obviously there was something about the guy that you liked in the first place, or you wouldn't have ever started dating that person. Focus on the good, and move on.
Sunday, July 24, 2005
Bunk Beds
Our apartment complex currently houses three girls to each room. This means that there are a set of bunk beds and a regular bed for each room. Currently, Uffish has the top bunk and I've got the bottom.
Now there are a great many good things about a bunk bed. You've got "tree-house" possibilities for the top bunk, and "inner sanctum"/fort possibilities for the bottom bunk. You can play drive through fast food restaurant, or weddings, and you get the comfort of knowing that one of your closest friends is right nearby in case you have a bad dream...Or something.
I've actually grown up most of my life with a bunk bed. There aren't too many downsides to bunk beds, at least in my opinion. I really like them. The only unforgivable fault they have is this:
Bunkbeds are horrifically inconvenient for being dramatic.
When I was little I would watch movies with the teenage girls in them where they would come home from a terrible day at school, or come in from having an argument with their mom or something, and then they'd toss whatever was in their hands on the ground, sob dramatically once, and then fling themselves onto the bed with their hair spilling gently over their arms into which their face was burried as they wept softly about how misunderstood they were.
I had a sort of sad wish to be able to reenact this scene in my own life. The only differences would be that I would be crying about something really worth crying about when I did it...And I'd have to do it on a bunk bed.
Finally, the day came when it was time for me to act out my scene. The day had been terrible--I'd gotten a C+ on a pre-algebra test, and it was time for me to go mourn my sorrows with my bed as my only solace.
Well...I ran into the house after being picked up from school, walked calmly down the hallway as to assure that I didn't alert my mother to my plight, and then threw the door to my bedroom askance, flung my backpack dramatically by the wayside, and ran to my bed to fling myself down.
Being entirely caught up in the moment, I seem to have forgotten the fact that I was the person who lived on the top bunk at this time. For being dramatic...That simply wouldn't do. No heroine climbs pathetically up the side ladder to melt unceremoniously onto her covers. No, no...For my big dramatic moment, I needed the bottom bunk. I decided that my sister wouldn't mind too terribly if I used her bed. I glanced around sorrowfully for effect, and then flung myself onto her bottom bunk. The only problem came mid-flight...As I seemed to have forgotten that there existed a top bunk. I ran my forehead into the top bunk as I tried to fling myself dramatically, and got flung backwards instead.
Needless to say, my dramatic moment was ruined. There was no weeping, no billowing soft hair, and definitely no comfort. All I had to show for my dramatic exploits was a bump on the head and a C+ on a pre-algebra test. What a waste of emotions!
I'm better now, I swear. Though I still get the urge on occasion to fling myself dramatically onto a mattress, I manage usually to repress the urge. I can now fully appreciate bunk beds for the space economization and their playful childlike qualities...
...At least until the next pre-algebra test.
Now there are a great many good things about a bunk bed. You've got "tree-house" possibilities for the top bunk, and "inner sanctum"/fort possibilities for the bottom bunk. You can play drive through fast food restaurant, or weddings, and you get the comfort of knowing that one of your closest friends is right nearby in case you have a bad dream...Or something.
I've actually grown up most of my life with a bunk bed. There aren't too many downsides to bunk beds, at least in my opinion. I really like them. The only unforgivable fault they have is this:
Bunkbeds are horrifically inconvenient for being dramatic.
When I was little I would watch movies with the teenage girls in them where they would come home from a terrible day at school, or come in from having an argument with their mom or something, and then they'd toss whatever was in their hands on the ground, sob dramatically once, and then fling themselves onto the bed with their hair spilling gently over their arms into which their face was burried as they wept softly about how misunderstood they were.
I had a sort of sad wish to be able to reenact this scene in my own life. The only differences would be that I would be crying about something really worth crying about when I did it...And I'd have to do it on a bunk bed.
Finally, the day came when it was time for me to act out my scene. The day had been terrible--I'd gotten a C+ on a pre-algebra test, and it was time for me to go mourn my sorrows with my bed as my only solace.
Well...I ran into the house after being picked up from school, walked calmly down the hallway as to assure that I didn't alert my mother to my plight, and then threw the door to my bedroom askance, flung my backpack dramatically by the wayside, and ran to my bed to fling myself down.
Being entirely caught up in the moment, I seem to have forgotten the fact that I was the person who lived on the top bunk at this time. For being dramatic...That simply wouldn't do. No heroine climbs pathetically up the side ladder to melt unceremoniously onto her covers. No, no...For my big dramatic moment, I needed the bottom bunk. I decided that my sister wouldn't mind too terribly if I used her bed. I glanced around sorrowfully for effect, and then flung myself onto her bottom bunk. The only problem came mid-flight...As I seemed to have forgotten that there existed a top bunk. I ran my forehead into the top bunk as I tried to fling myself dramatically, and got flung backwards instead.
Needless to say, my dramatic moment was ruined. There was no weeping, no billowing soft hair, and definitely no comfort. All I had to show for my dramatic exploits was a bump on the head and a C+ on a pre-algebra test. What a waste of emotions!
I'm better now, I swear. Though I still get the urge on occasion to fling myself dramatically onto a mattress, I manage usually to repress the urge. I can now fully appreciate bunk beds for the space economization and their playful childlike qualities...
...At least until the next pre-algebra test.
Friday, July 22, 2005
Kids Talk About Love
Just another silly e-mail forward...but I thought it was funny.
"What does love mean?" These are answers from 4 to 8 year olds.
When my grandma got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toe nails anymore. So my grandpa does it for her now all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love.
Rebecca - age 8
When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouths.
Billy - age 4
Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other.
Kari - age 5
Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your french fries without making them give you any of theirs.
Chrissy - age 6
Love is what makes you smile when you're tired.
Terri - age 4
Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him to make sure the taste is OK.
Danny - age 7
Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more. My mommy and my daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss.
Emily - age 8
Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen.
Bobby - age 7
If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate.
Nikki - age 6
Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it every day.
Noelle - age 7
Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well.
Tommy - age 6
During my piano recital, I was on stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn't scared anymore.
Cindy - age 8
My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night.
Clare - age 6
Love is when mommy gives daddy the best piece of chicken.
Elaine - age 5
Love is when mommy sees daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford.
Chris - age 7
Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day.
Mary Ann - age 4
When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you.
Karen - age 7
You really shouldn't say "I LOVE YOU" unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget.
Jessica - age 8
"What does love mean?" These are answers from 4 to 8 year olds.
When my grandma got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toe nails anymore. So my grandpa does it for her now all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love.
Rebecca - age 8
When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouths.
Billy - age 4
Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other.
Kari - age 5
Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your french fries without making them give you any of theirs.
Chrissy - age 6
Love is what makes you smile when you're tired.
Terri - age 4
Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him to make sure the taste is OK.
Danny - age 7
Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more. My mommy and my daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss.
Emily - age 8
Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen.
Bobby - age 7
If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate.
Nikki - age 6
Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it every day.
Noelle - age 7
Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well.
Tommy - age 6
During my piano recital, I was on stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn't scared anymore.
Cindy - age 8
My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night.
Clare - age 6
Love is when mommy gives daddy the best piece of chicken.
Elaine - age 5
Love is when mommy sees daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford.
Chris - age 7
Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day.
Mary Ann - age 4
When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you.
Karen - age 7
You really shouldn't say "I LOVE YOU" unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget.
Jessica - age 8
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Peeves...the Pet Kind
I should probably learn to better communicate these to people. I usually just end up sitting around irritated for a little while, until I learn to either deal with it, or fix the problem in a manner that irritates me less. Without much more ado...Allow me to present:
Novel's Eating Pet Peeves:
gulping sounds in the back of people's throats while drinking
clinking and scraping ceramic/porcelain/glass bowls/plates with metal utensils
talking with their mouth open--food spilling on their lap and other people
teeth scraping metal forks/spoons--eat the food, not the fork
shoveling food off plate and rushing off
ingratitude for a meal that someone's worked hard to cook--it's not hard to say a simple "thanks."
Novel's Kitchen Pet Peeves:
Moldy/bad/stinky food in the fridge or on the counter
having to re-wash dishes from the dishwasher because people didn't load it right or didn't rinse. Some machines are built to blast the food off with the bacteria...Others just sanitize the dishes you already wash. It's important to realize which one you've got.
utensil mixing in the utensil holder in the dishwasher (only when I'm loading)
putting utensils that are too tall in the utensil thing--just put them on the top shelf, please?
dishes being put away with food bits stuck to them...If they're not clean, they need to be re-washed.
open cabinets
Sounding OCD for bringing all this up.
I'm probably too protective of the kitchen right now--funny thing is though, that I only get this way when I've got to clean it myself, or part of it myself. If I get help, I'm all smiles and understanding. As soon as I have to do it alone though, I get grumpy.
Moral: Novel Hates doing most chores alone most of the time, and she needs to sleep.
Novel's Eating Pet Peeves:
Novel's Kitchen Pet Peeves:
I'm probably too protective of the kitchen right now--funny thing is though, that I only get this way when I've got to clean it myself, or part of it myself. If I get help, I'm all smiles and understanding. As soon as I have to do it alone though, I get grumpy.
Moral: Novel Hates doing most chores alone most of the time, and she needs to sleep.
Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Life is like...
I don't know that anyone else is going to understand this post...Oh well. Read on if you like.
Lately I've been feeling kind of like a patron in a really nice art museum. I'm walking around observing paintings of other people's lives and even participating in them sometimes, but sort of just passing through--much like Harry Potter I suppose...Except I seem to have lost my home frame.
I'm not really sure what it is. I'm just feeling...Less anchored perhaps? Not in certain things--the Gospel is still true, I'm supposed to be here in Provo, I don't need to cut my hair etc. All my friends are great, my life really is good. I'm just feeling out of place again I suppose.
Oh well, maybe the feeling will pass with time--I've just got to find my home frame again. Meanwhile, I'm just try and enjoy passing through everyone else's pictures, at least until I find the one that I fit into correctly.
Yeah...I don't quite fit into any of those pictures...
Lately I've been feeling kind of like a patron in a really nice art museum. I'm walking around observing paintings of other people's lives and even participating in them sometimes, but sort of just passing through--much like Harry Potter I suppose...Except I seem to have lost my home frame.
I'm not really sure what it is. I'm just feeling...Less anchored perhaps? Not in certain things--the Gospel is still true, I'm supposed to be here in Provo, I don't need to cut my hair etc. All my friends are great, my life really is good. I'm just feeling out of place again I suppose.
Oh well, maybe the feeling will pass with time--I've just got to find my home frame again. Meanwhile, I'm just try and enjoy passing through everyone else's pictures, at least until I find the one that I fit into correctly.
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
I Enjoy Being a Girl...
You know, as frilly as this song is...it really describes the way I feel at this moment:
When I have a brand new hairdo
With my eyelashes all in curl,
I float as the clouds on air do,
I enjoy being a girl!
When men say I'm cute and funny
And my teeth aren't teeth, but pearl,
I just lap it up like honey
I enjoy being a girl!
I flip when a fellow sends me flowers,
I drool over dresses made of lace,
I talk on the telephone for hours
With a pound and a half of cream upon my face!
I'm strictly a female female
And my future I hope will be
In the home of a brave and free male
Who'll enjoy being a guy having a girl... like... me.
Yeah...that's right...Novel Concept is really female. Surprise! Or not. :)
Anyway, Uffish and I have talked about this before. Girls (and guys too, I suppose, though I don't have any personal experience there) look good when they dress up mostly because of the way it makes them feel. When a girl wears a formal dress...the dress itself isn't really that pretty...and a lot of them are just difficult to wear, and uncomfortable to boot. The thing that makes the girls excited about them is the fact that they FEEL prettier. This means that whether or not they actually look any better than they do on a regular basis, they have more confidence, more happiness, and more excitement about the way they look because they think they actually look better. They walk taller, carry themselves with a better air about them, and smile more. Attractiveness is probably about 95% attitude--not in-your-face-don't-mess-with-me attitude, but charm, charisma, and being all around pleasurable to be around.
I used to think that putting any effort into the way that you looked was vain. I always wanted to be kind of like those girls in high school who are pretty and fun and popular, but I always told myself that I was being more real somehow, that I was being genuine, and that someday, I would be able to know that I had found the right guy by the fact that he would be overwhelmingly attracted to me no matter what--that I could walk down the street in my frumpiest pajamas having not showered for a week and he would somehow just know that I was the right girl for him. Me, in all my unwashed glory, could somehow be truer to my inner self by focusing solely on developing the inner qualities that counted, and then I could pray that the Holy Ghost would be the one to make up for any outer shortcomings that I might happen to have.
I think I also hoped for the classic ugly-girl on the weekday and then asked out on a pity date by the guy she likes and suddenly she shows up for the date and blows the guy away with her gorgeous contact-wearing, make-up bearing, stylishly clothed self and they fall madly in love because he knows her personality and now he's attracted to her to boot.
Sorry folks, but even having the spirit with you can't make it so that your outer physical appearance isn't entirely distracting. I've since greatly modified my views on the matter. While I still hope that my husband won't end up being completely repulsed by me even if we go for a week of camping and I'm wearing a cut pillowcase as a bandana to hide my unwashed hair that's still too short to put into a ponytail or french braid, I certainly don't expect that being an unwashed individual will allow them to become more focused on my radiant and sparkling personality...because it just doesn't work.
Physical appearance is something that's actually important. I still don't think that it's entirely necessary to spend hours getting ready to go to class, or that you even need to do a whole lot at all. I try to keep it to the basics--a shower, clean clothes, and a smile. Basically, I've come to think that you don't have to dress to wow people, but you should dress to make sure that you don't detract from your personality, or from people's desire to get to know you. Why do you think that missionaries have to wear suits, and keep a clean appearance? It's so that people think they're respectable, and don't discount what they have to say based solely on their appearance.
Anyway, I'm sure you all really wanted to know about this, but it's something I've come to realize the import of...and so I thought I'd share it.
Moral of the Post: Look respectable so that people are willing to get to know you and don't think you stink.
The end.
When I have a brand new hairdo
With my eyelashes all in curl,
I float as the clouds on air do,
I enjoy being a girl!
When men say I'm cute and funny
And my teeth aren't teeth, but pearl,
I just lap it up like honey
I enjoy being a girl!
I flip when a fellow sends me flowers,
I drool over dresses made of lace,
I talk on the telephone for hours
With a pound and a half of cream upon my face!
I'm strictly a female female
And my future I hope will be
In the home of a brave and free male
Who'll enjoy being a guy having a girl... like... me.
Yeah...that's right...Novel Concept is really female. Surprise! Or not. :)
Anyway, Uffish and I have talked about this before. Girls (and guys too, I suppose, though I don't have any personal experience there) look good when they dress up mostly because of the way it makes them feel. When a girl wears a formal dress...the dress itself isn't really that pretty...and a lot of them are just difficult to wear, and uncomfortable to boot. The thing that makes the girls excited about them is the fact that they FEEL prettier. This means that whether or not they actually look any better than they do on a regular basis, they have more confidence, more happiness, and more excitement about the way they look because they think they actually look better. They walk taller, carry themselves with a better air about them, and smile more. Attractiveness is probably about 95% attitude--not in-your-face-don't-mess-with-me attitude, but charm, charisma, and being all around pleasurable to be around.
I used to think that putting any effort into the way that you looked was vain. I always wanted to be kind of like those girls in high school who are pretty and fun and popular, but I always told myself that I was being more real somehow, that I was being genuine, and that someday, I would be able to know that I had found the right guy by the fact that he would be overwhelmingly attracted to me no matter what--that I could walk down the street in my frumpiest pajamas having not showered for a week and he would somehow just know that I was the right girl for him. Me, in all my unwashed glory, could somehow be truer to my inner self by focusing solely on developing the inner qualities that counted, and then I could pray that the Holy Ghost would be the one to make up for any outer shortcomings that I might happen to have.
I think I also hoped for the classic ugly-girl on the weekday and then asked out on a pity date by the guy she likes and suddenly she shows up for the date and blows the guy away with her gorgeous contact-wearing, make-up bearing, stylishly clothed self and they fall madly in love because he knows her personality and now he's attracted to her to boot.
Sorry folks, but even having the spirit with you can't make it so that your outer physical appearance isn't entirely distracting. I've since greatly modified my views on the matter. While I still hope that my husband won't end up being completely repulsed by me even if we go for a week of camping and I'm wearing a cut pillowcase as a bandana to hide my unwashed hair that's still too short to put into a ponytail or french braid, I certainly don't expect that being an unwashed individual will allow them to become more focused on my radiant and sparkling personality...because it just doesn't work.
Physical appearance is something that's actually important. I still don't think that it's entirely necessary to spend hours getting ready to go to class, or that you even need to do a whole lot at all. I try to keep it to the basics--a shower, clean clothes, and a smile. Basically, I've come to think that you don't have to dress to wow people, but you should dress to make sure that you don't detract from your personality, or from people's desire to get to know you. Why do you think that missionaries have to wear suits, and keep a clean appearance? It's so that people think they're respectable, and don't discount what they have to say based solely on their appearance.
Anyway, I'm sure you all really wanted to know about this, but it's something I've come to realize the import of...and so I thought I'd share it.
Moral of the Post: Look respectable so that people are willing to get to know you and don't think you stink.
The end.
Friday, July 01, 2005
Insert Subject Here
You know, that IS always the hardest part of it. It being e-mail, blog entries, and the like. Moving on.
I really really love summer. I love the warmth, I love the breezes, I love the thunderstorms, I love the company, and I love the overall laid-back attitude that comes with it. I'm a pretty laid-back individual, and the feel of summer suits me pretty well.
I also love the ability to play in the water that comes with Summer. Swimming is one of my favorite things, behind a great many of my other more favorite things, but still up there. I also love water skiing, and have had a great desire to participate in such activity for a good couple of months now, unfortunately, I lack the funds to be able to do so at the moment...at least without the aid of someone who is already possessed of such things as boats, skis and a rope with which to tow me along happily. I look something like this: Novel Skiing
Alright, so I don't really look much anything like that. :)
Anyway, summer is great, and so is potato bread. Also, veggies...mmmmm. I LOVE vegetables.
I really really love summer. I love the warmth, I love the breezes, I love the thunderstorms, I love the company, and I love the overall laid-back attitude that comes with it. I'm a pretty laid-back individual, and the feel of summer suits me pretty well.
I also love the ability to play in the water that comes with Summer. Swimming is one of my favorite things, behind a great many of my other more favorite things, but still up there. I also love water skiing, and have had a great desire to participate in such activity for a good couple of months now, unfortunately, I lack the funds to be able to do so at the moment...at least without the aid of someone who is already possessed of such things as boats, skis and a rope with which to tow me along happily. I look something like this: Novel Skiing
Alright, so I don't really look much anything like that. :)
Anyway, summer is great, and so is potato bread. Also, veggies...mmmmm. I LOVE vegetables.
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
"What can you expect from a woman? Her heart is as soft as her head!"
That's a quote from a movie version of the Scarlet Pimpernel...great quote, also...great comic.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Why Do You Build Me Up...
Buttercup baby just to let me down
Let me down
And boss me around and then worst of all
Worst of all
You never call baby when you say you will
Say you will
But I love you still
I need you
I need you
More than anyone Darlin'
You're all that I had from the start
So build me up
Build me up
Buttercup
Don't break my heart...
I I I I I NEEEED YOU more than anyone Darlin'! You're all that I had from the staaaaart. So Build me up, Buttercup, don't break my heart.
Sorry, I just had the song stuck in my head, and decided to share the love. Happy Summer All.
Let me down
And boss me around and then worst of all
Worst of all
You never call baby when you say you will
Say you will
But I love you still
I need you
I need you
More than anyone Darlin'
You're all that I had from the start
So build me up
Build me up
Buttercup
Don't break my heart...
I I I I I NEEEED YOU more than anyone Darlin'! You're all that I had from the staaaaart. So Build me up, Buttercup, don't break my heart.
Sorry, I just had the song stuck in my head, and decided to share the love. Happy Summer All.
Thursday, June 23, 2005
Santa Drives the UTA
So today I went on an adventure. It actually started last night, when I smashed my finger in a door of a car. It hurt, and so I put ice on it, and then hoped for the best. This morning, when I woke up, my finger was swollen, and it hurt to move it, but I headed off to class anyway.
Well, then I realized that I'd left my cell phone somewhere on a church step south of campus, and I was feeling a little stressed about that. So I decided it would be most prudent to leave class early and go to get it. I left, and walked down to where it was, and then called my little sister, who has knee surgery today. My finger started to hurt more, and so I decided I should tell my mom...just to do the good daughter thing, and I succeeded in freaking her out, which led to me calling everyone and their mom to try and figure out where my insurance would work...stupid insurance. I finally find a place in very N. Orem, right next to Lindon actually, and head over there on UTA.
The first bus is the 811. I get on and there's an overweight gentleman who's very talkative asking people about just about everything. He keeps asking this one girl who looks very nervous (it's her first semester at BYU) about things, and she looks as though she'd much rather just sit silently on the bus like everyone else. This bus goes to the transit station. Here I get off and get onto the 850. The same gentleman gets on again and begins talking to another young lady who apparently works with the homeless. She's decided to get tested for hepatitis as a result, and then randomly asks the larger gentleman if he knows anyone on a diet. He looks a little affronted and says that he doesn't, and he certainly isn't. She then begins to tell us how gall stones are linked to rapid weight loss, and how she's lost 70 pounds, but only about 1-3 each week. The gentleman decides that his stop is now, and gets off looking disgruntled, with a parting shot of, "I don't lose weight, and I don't gain it, I just stay the same." The bus was strangely quite after that.
Then I get to this place in Lindon that my insurance will work with. I get in there, explain the situation, and am then told that medical insurance isn't what will cover my injury, it's the owner of the car's car insurance, because it 's a car related injury. I can pay now though, and then go to the other insurance company and get the claim taken care of there. I asked them how much it would cost, they told me about $200.
Heck no.
It's a stupid pinkie. I mean, really. And it's on my left hand, and it's not at any funny angle. If it heals this way--that's fine with me. I promptly leave the clinic place and go across the street to the drugstore and buy some finger tape. I then tape my finger while I wait for the bus, get on the bus, and start heading home.
Here is where we meet Donovan and Judy. They apparently meet on the bus sometimes, and they share work stories. Judy has just started dating Vah-hah (I don't know how to spell it, but that's how it's pronounced). Donovan is sad, because he was hoping that he could date Judy, but he doesn't want to break up her 2 week old new relationship. To top this all off--Judy's hampster Harry died on Friday, and so she bought a new one--a more expensive one, who would be hardier, and less skittish. Harry was always so skittish. Skittish=Death. Now she's got Chewy, who's much less skittish, but he bites, and hard (What do you expect when you name it chew-y?). Sadly, this bus trip was then over. I'll never know what happened for Judy and Donovan.
Donovan actually boarded the 830 with me back to Provo, though he was too heartbroken to talk much. This bus was driven by Santa Clause himself--what an off-season job eh? He had this great jolly deep voice and every time he announced a street name I expected him to let out a belly laugh.
"550 West and University Parkway. Ho Ho Ho!"
Anyway, I'm finally home with my roommates and food. Mmmm...food time--what a morning though.
Well, then I realized that I'd left my cell phone somewhere on a church step south of campus, and I was feeling a little stressed about that. So I decided it would be most prudent to leave class early and go to get it. I left, and walked down to where it was, and then called my little sister, who has knee surgery today. My finger started to hurt more, and so I decided I should tell my mom...just to do the good daughter thing, and I succeeded in freaking her out, which led to me calling everyone and their mom to try and figure out where my insurance would work...stupid insurance. I finally find a place in very N. Orem, right next to Lindon actually, and head over there on UTA.
The first bus is the 811. I get on and there's an overweight gentleman who's very talkative asking people about just about everything. He keeps asking this one girl who looks very nervous (it's her first semester at BYU) about things, and she looks as though she'd much rather just sit silently on the bus like everyone else. This bus goes to the transit station. Here I get off and get onto the 850. The same gentleman gets on again and begins talking to another young lady who apparently works with the homeless. She's decided to get tested for hepatitis as a result, and then randomly asks the larger gentleman if he knows anyone on a diet. He looks a little affronted and says that he doesn't, and he certainly isn't. She then begins to tell us how gall stones are linked to rapid weight loss, and how she's lost 70 pounds, but only about 1-3 each week. The gentleman decides that his stop is now, and gets off looking disgruntled, with a parting shot of, "I don't lose weight, and I don't gain it, I just stay the same." The bus was strangely quite after that.
Then I get to this place in Lindon that my insurance will work with. I get in there, explain the situation, and am then told that medical insurance isn't what will cover my injury, it's the owner of the car's car insurance, because it 's a car related injury. I can pay now though, and then go to the other insurance company and get the claim taken care of there. I asked them how much it would cost, they told me about $200.
Heck no.
It's a stupid pinkie. I mean, really. And it's on my left hand, and it's not at any funny angle. If it heals this way--that's fine with me. I promptly leave the clinic place and go across the street to the drugstore and buy some finger tape. I then tape my finger while I wait for the bus, get on the bus, and start heading home.
Here is where we meet Donovan and Judy. They apparently meet on the bus sometimes, and they share work stories. Judy has just started dating Vah-hah (I don't know how to spell it, but that's how it's pronounced). Donovan is sad, because he was hoping that he could date Judy, but he doesn't want to break up her 2 week old new relationship. To top this all off--Judy's hampster Harry died on Friday, and so she bought a new one--a more expensive one, who would be hardier, and less skittish. Harry was always so skittish. Skittish=Death. Now she's got Chewy, who's much less skittish, but he bites, and hard (What do you expect when you name it chew-y?). Sadly, this bus trip was then over. I'll never know what happened for Judy and Donovan.
Donovan actually boarded the 830 with me back to Provo, though he was too heartbroken to talk much. This bus was driven by Santa Clause himself--what an off-season job eh? He had this great jolly deep voice and every time he announced a street name I expected him to let out a belly laugh.
"550 West and University Parkway. Ho Ho Ho!"
Anyway, I'm finally home with my roommates and food. Mmmm...food time--what a morning though.
Saturday, June 18, 2005
Elaboration
Alright, so I'm a bit addicted to 24. I'm currently in the middle of season 2 with Uffish and my sister (Who's out here for college, and living with me--I'm really excited aount it. :). So...I guess this is my question--does anyone have season 3 on DVD? If you do, and if you're anywhere near the Provo area, is there some way I can borrow it?
I could like...make you cookies or something....pleeeeeeeeeease?
I could like...make you cookies or something....pleeeeeeeeeease?
Friday, June 17, 2005
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
...Cause it's Witchcraft....
So, this evening I had my third date in the past 10 months. The guy wasn't someone who was terribly attracted to me. He's just a guy in the ward. Our ward's friendship committee had set up something they called the "mandate." Basically, the thing was a ward activity that made you go in couples, and a guy in my ward asked me to go with him.
I think someone out there is practicing voodoo...
See, we get to the park and start throwing a frisbee and a football around with two other couples. About 45 minutes into the date, Senor Really-Taller-Than-I-Am dives for the frisbee and lands on his shoulder. Up to this point in the evening, he's dived for the frisbee multiple times, and it's been fine. This time, he doesn't get up, and he starts laughing nervously--clearly indicating that he's in pain. Finally, he gets up, and then we all head towards the car of one of the other couples. We all head to the ER, and poor Senor finds out that he's not dislocated his shoulder, as we all suspected, he's just managed to tear the ligaments off of two parts of his shoulder. This amounts to 6-8 weeks of a sling, a perscription for loratab, and then physical therapy.
Just to clarify, the first guy I went on a date with wasn't physically injured on our date, we all just played cranium and then went home--fun, but more of a group party. Woo hoo those RA's...what a lively bunch. :D
The second guy I went on a date with was a guy set up by my cousin so that I wouldn't be dateless when all the other RA's in our building went to preference...honestly, he wasn't my preference, but he was nice enough (he was also a freshman...). We stayed about a foot and a half apart that whole evening, and while he looked skeptical about ice skating, I decided to go and skate. He did a lot of complaining, and then claimed to have fun. He wouldn't look me in the eye whenever I tried to wave to him anywhere on campus, in the Morris Center, or in all of DT after that. Guess I ruined the poor kid somehow...oh well. Maybe his mission will help him forget all about the trauma.
Maybe I should start coming with a warning label.
I think someone out there is practicing voodoo...
See, we get to the park and start throwing a frisbee and a football around with two other couples. About 45 minutes into the date, Senor Really-Taller-Than-I-Am dives for the frisbee and lands on his shoulder. Up to this point in the evening, he's dived for the frisbee multiple times, and it's been fine. This time, he doesn't get up, and he starts laughing nervously--clearly indicating that he's in pain. Finally, he gets up, and then we all head towards the car of one of the other couples. We all head to the ER, and poor Senor finds out that he's not dislocated his shoulder, as we all suspected, he's just managed to tear the ligaments off of two parts of his shoulder. This amounts to 6-8 weeks of a sling, a perscription for loratab, and then physical therapy.
Just to clarify, the first guy I went on a date with wasn't physically injured on our date, we all just played cranium and then went home--fun, but more of a group party. Woo hoo those RA's...what a lively bunch. :D
The second guy I went on a date with was a guy set up by my cousin so that I wouldn't be dateless when all the other RA's in our building went to preference...honestly, he wasn't my preference, but he was nice enough (he was also a freshman...). We stayed about a foot and a half apart that whole evening, and while he looked skeptical about ice skating, I decided to go and skate. He did a lot of complaining, and then claimed to have fun. He wouldn't look me in the eye whenever I tried to wave to him anywhere on campus, in the Morris Center, or in all of DT after that. Guess I ruined the poor kid somehow...oh well. Maybe his mission will help him forget all about the trauma.
Maybe I should start coming with a warning label.
Saturday, June 11, 2005
Yarrrg...Whine..and a Couple of Tra la la's
That's how we laugh the day away in the merry old land of Novel's stressed.
I'm so bad right now that I just typed my real name there...oh well. It wouldn't be too much of a surprise for most of you.
Anyway. I'm really stressed right now...and so I'm doing all kinds of responsible things, like taking a break right now to write about how stressed I am instead of just finishing up what I'm working on to remove a source of the stress.
Basically, all my teachers decided to have the final papers and projects due on the last day of class, and I decided...ever so responsibly, that I would wait until the last week to get them really going.
Sooo dumb. Why don't I ever learn?
As a result, I've currently got 4 papers (1 4 page one is done...I have two 6-7 page papers left, and then a one page summary of a cspan thing that I haven't watched yet...) and two presentations (one on camping--that'll be fun, and one on the divide between the upper and lower class in America) all due on Monday. I've also got work tonight from 10pm-6am, church tomorrow at noon, and then the afternoon to finish up everything else that I need to have finished by 7:30 Monday morning.
To top it off, I'm feeling kind of grumpy because I have so much to do. I scheduled the shower I took right after work today, and then slept about 2 hours longer than I'd planned. Granted, I slept only about 6 hours, but still--it's too much. I still need to grocery shop and do laundry, and poor Uffish is stuck dealing with all of this because I'm her roommate. Even my mom got an earful when she called. Thankfully, everyone around me is being really nice and understanding and letting me vent about my frustrations--especially with group projects, but I won't go there at the moment.
Anyway, just as a side note--EFY kids are dirty little beasts when it comes to bathrooms. I cleaned the bathrooms in the WILK last night for 8 hours--and that's about how long it took to get their messes cleaned up. *shudder*
Alright, back to papers...see you on the other side.
I'm so bad right now that I just typed my real name there...oh well. It wouldn't be too much of a surprise for most of you.
Anyway. I'm really stressed right now...and so I'm doing all kinds of responsible things, like taking a break right now to write about how stressed I am instead of just finishing up what I'm working on to remove a source of the stress.
Basically, all my teachers decided to have the final papers and projects due on the last day of class, and I decided...ever so responsibly, that I would wait until the last week to get them really going.
Sooo dumb. Why don't I ever learn?
As a result, I've currently got 4 papers (1 4 page one is done...I have two 6-7 page papers left, and then a one page summary of a cspan thing that I haven't watched yet...) and two presentations (one on camping--that'll be fun, and one on the divide between the upper and lower class in America) all due on Monday. I've also got work tonight from 10pm-6am, church tomorrow at noon, and then the afternoon to finish up everything else that I need to have finished by 7:30 Monday morning.
To top it off, I'm feeling kind of grumpy because I have so much to do. I scheduled the shower I took right after work today, and then slept about 2 hours longer than I'd planned. Granted, I slept only about 6 hours, but still--it's too much. I still need to grocery shop and do laundry, and poor Uffish is stuck dealing with all of this because I'm her roommate. Even my mom got an earful when she called. Thankfully, everyone around me is being really nice and understanding and letting me vent about my frustrations--especially with group projects, but I won't go there at the moment.
Anyway, just as a side note--EFY kids are dirty little beasts when it comes to bathrooms. I cleaned the bathrooms in the WILK last night for 8 hours--and that's about how long it took to get their messes cleaned up. *shudder*
Alright, back to papers...see you on the other side.
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
Unless You're a Mormon...
You Were Nice This Year! |
 You're an uber-perfect person who is on the top of Santa's list. You probably didn't even *think* any naughty thoughts this year. Unless you're a Mormon, you've probably been a little too good. Is that extra candy cane worth being a sweetheart for 365 days straight? |
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
Meeshka, Meeshka, Meeshka
OK, I don't think that's spelled correctly, I'm sure you'll all be able to move past that.
So today I had another adventure, and this time, it was with a kitten. I was walking home some convoluted way because I could. It was raining...and really, really cold, so the long route was probably not the best of ideas. Anyway, I'm walking through the center of my block where there are about 4 parking lots all hooked together, and I hear this small mewing. I turn around to find a small, black, wet, fuzzball following me. Obviously, I pick the cat up, and it starts to purr.
Curse the cute thing, now I know it needs me.
So then I do the really rational thing, and take it home with me. It was really dirty, terribly matted, and pretty starved, so I think it's safe to say that it didn't belong to anyone. I brought it into my apartment--you know, the one that doesn't allow pets--and fed it some milk and bread. Then I went and woke Uffish so that she could see what I'd done. Basically, we're both in love with this little cat, and we start trying to come up with names for it. I keep calling it meeshka (though spelled differently, I'm sure). Anyway, we play for a little while and then decide that it's a good time to take a cat nap (haha...get it...cat...nap...yeah.). About an hour later, I wake up and the cat is sleeping peacefully in my lap. Hooray! It's so cute, and cuddly, and it likes me--some of my favorite qualities in a companion. :) Uffish says something along the lines of "This is not a cat" because of it's extreme friendliness. I reply with, "No, it's a Puppy! Tee hee!" (this is one of my favorite episodes).
Sadly, although the puppy...I mean, kitten, was really pretty, I found out that, much as I wanted it to be true, I couldn't make myself not allergic to cats, or hatch a scheme brilliant enough that I felt like it'd be ok to keep the kitten--especially when I go back to being an RA in the fall. Alas, I'm currently looking to find it a home--though it might already have one. If you're really interested in having a kitten, and you'd still let me come and play with it. Let me know--I'll get in touch with you somehow.
So today I had another adventure, and this time, it was with a kitten. I was walking home some convoluted way because I could. It was raining...and really, really cold, so the long route was probably not the best of ideas. Anyway, I'm walking through the center of my block where there are about 4 parking lots all hooked together, and I hear this small mewing. I turn around to find a small, black, wet, fuzzball following me. Obviously, I pick the cat up, and it starts to purr.
Curse the cute thing, now I know it needs me.
So then I do the really rational thing, and take it home with me. It was really dirty, terribly matted, and pretty starved, so I think it's safe to say that it didn't belong to anyone. I brought it into my apartment--you know, the one that doesn't allow pets--and fed it some milk and bread. Then I went and woke Uffish so that she could see what I'd done. Basically, we're both in love with this little cat, and we start trying to come up with names for it. I keep calling it meeshka (though spelled differently, I'm sure). Anyway, we play for a little while and then decide that it's a good time to take a cat nap (haha...get it...cat...nap...yeah.). About an hour later, I wake up and the cat is sleeping peacefully in my lap. Hooray! It's so cute, and cuddly, and it likes me--some of my favorite qualities in a companion. :) Uffish says something along the lines of "This is not a cat" because of it's extreme friendliness. I reply with, "No, it's a Puppy! Tee hee!" (this is one of my favorite episodes).
Sadly, although the puppy...I mean, kitten, was really pretty, I found out that, much as I wanted it to be true, I couldn't make myself not allergic to cats, or hatch a scheme brilliant enough that I felt like it'd be ok to keep the kitten--especially when I go back to being an RA in the fall. Alas, I'm currently looking to find it a home--though it might already have one. If you're really interested in having a kitten, and you'd still let me come and play with it. Let me know--I'll get in touch with you somehow.
Friday, June 03, 2005
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Roll Out Those Crazy, Lazy, Hazy Days of Summer
You know what I want really badly right now? Well, two things...maybe more, we'll see as I go.
First, I really want a tree house. Honestly, I really, really want the satisfaction of firstly, building something all my own, and secondly, being able to sit in it and read...or just...sit. I really love to building things. I got to help my dad build a deck a couple of summers ago along with all my siblings, and it's something that I really just want to do...a whole, whole lot. I think my friends think I'm kidding, but if I had the ability to do so...scratch that, I've got the ability, I just need the tree, the wood, the nails...yeah. I would build myself a tree house.
Secondly, since I can't seem to have a tree house at the moment, I really want a roof to sit on. Not like the roofs at DT that are just like open patios that happen to be 7 stories up, I want a real roof. The sloping, on top of house with about 2-3 stories kind of roof. I also want it to be sun-warmed, and I want to be able to do it in the cool of evening with a couple of friends, some fresh fruit, or maybe some popsicles, and just...nice. My house in CA had a shed that sat right under our cherry tree. My siblings and I would sit on it and eat cherries--mostly trying to get them before the neighborhood birds did. Mmmm...what a great sensation. Sun warmed roof underneath you, and sun-ripened, warm cherries full of juice popped in your mouth right off the tree.
My sister is coming out to college soon--I'm so glad. It'll be so nice to have someone from my family around. I really miss them right now, and I kind of just want to play with them. Build things, swim, play in the dirt, go camping, horseshoes, thunderstorms, firefly catching, "volleyball," nintendo monopoly marathons...
...I miss you guys right now
First, I really want a tree house. Honestly, I really, really want the satisfaction of firstly, building something all my own, and secondly, being able to sit in it and read...or just...sit. I really love to building things. I got to help my dad build a deck a couple of summers ago along with all my siblings, and it's something that I really just want to do...a whole, whole lot. I think my friends think I'm kidding, but if I had the ability to do so...scratch that, I've got the ability, I just need the tree, the wood, the nails...yeah. I would build myself a tree house.
Secondly, since I can't seem to have a tree house at the moment, I really want a roof to sit on. Not like the roofs at DT that are just like open patios that happen to be 7 stories up, I want a real roof. The sloping, on top of house with about 2-3 stories kind of roof. I also want it to be sun-warmed, and I want to be able to do it in the cool of evening with a couple of friends, some fresh fruit, or maybe some popsicles, and just...nice. My house in CA had a shed that sat right under our cherry tree. My siblings and I would sit on it and eat cherries--mostly trying to get them before the neighborhood birds did. Mmmm...what a great sensation. Sun warmed roof underneath you, and sun-ripened, warm cherries full of juice popped in your mouth right off the tree.
My sister is coming out to college soon--I'm so glad. It'll be so nice to have someone from my family around. I really miss them right now, and I kind of just want to play with them. Build things, swim, play in the dirt, go camping, horseshoes, thunderstorms, firefly catching, "volleyball," nintendo monopoly marathons...
...I miss you guys right now
Saturday, May 28, 2005
A Sweep is as Lucky as Lucky can be...
I'm currently sitting on my break here in the WILK (yeah, I do custodial), and today is my first day. I apparently get an hour break each night I work from 2-3, with the first half hour not being paid, and the second half hour being paid--it's great. The people here are awesome, and I've really enjoyed myself thus far. Thank goodness for working with some great people. Sure does make the time pass more quickly, especially when you're working all night. (Uffish, THAT sentence was definitely a fragment, the one in my yet unfinished paper, was not...stupid Word.)
The WILK is oddly peaceful at 2:20 in the morning. It's kind of exciting, really. You know what else is exciting? The fact that the vending machine just stole my money, and I'm starving. Man, if I thought that my eating schedule was odd before... I know you're not supposed to eat late at night...does it count if you eat early in the morning?
The title--tonight I worked on floor crew, which means that I sweep floors, and then help to mop them. Soon, I will be helping to clean bathrooms. You all better appreciate those clean floors and bathrooms a little more the next time you use them in the WILK, as a lot of people go into making them clean.
Anyway, it's time for me to go and log back in. Then I get another break, and then three more hours of work here, and then 3 more hours of work at the MORC. Pretty soon, I'm going to have this no sleep thing totally under controll...or something :)
Nowhere is there a more happier crew...
The WILK is oddly peaceful at 2:20 in the morning. It's kind of exciting, really. You know what else is exciting? The fact that the vending machine just stole my money, and I'm starving. Man, if I thought that my eating schedule was odd before... I know you're not supposed to eat late at night...does it count if you eat early in the morning?
The title--tonight I worked on floor crew, which means that I sweep floors, and then help to mop them. Soon, I will be helping to clean bathrooms. You all better appreciate those clean floors and bathrooms a little more the next time you use them in the WILK, as a lot of people go into making them clean.
Anyway, it's time for me to go and log back in. Then I get another break, and then three more hours of work here, and then 3 more hours of work at the MORC. Pretty soon, I'm going to have this no sleep thing totally under controll...or something :)
Nowhere is there a more happier crew...
Thursday, May 26, 2005
Things I've Come to Know Recently
Disclaimer: Not all of these things happened to me...honest.
- Dancing in a fountain is wetter than Benedick makes it look
- The little moat-like thing that runs south of campus was not meant for wading in--you get up to your knees in sticky grey-ish grainy mud only to realize that the walkway you were attempting to cross over to is a lot higher than you were expecting.
- Sliding down rails in shorts is different than sliding down rails in pants
- Sliding down rails in skirts is not a good idea--you lack friction
- It's nice to work somewhere where people want you to be there
- It's nicer to feel wanted in general
- A whole package of spaghetti noodles boiled makes more than a small saucepan worth of food
- Just a job and working do not big bucks make
- My piggy bank looks possessed because it's currently possessing the majority of my earthly wealth
- It's possible to get tan lines from walking across campus to class
- Pink shirts are not the best way to downplay a sunburn
- Even the non-drowsiest of formulas for allergy medicine puts me to sleep...and pretty fast
- I really like my friends
- Heck, I even love my roommate(s) (with every fiber of my being ;)
- If your eyes are watering because of allergies, it's best to avoid looking at the wedding dresses for sale section of the WILK board--you end up looking like a jilted bride.
- Talking to TA's and having them tear apart a paper you wrote isn't that bad
- A lot of times I'm my own worse critic
- I really don't look too great in a baseball cap
- After 4 hours of working in the morning, I find great joy in strutting across campus wearing my nasty hat and work clothes as I enjoy the sunshine
- I never want to have a kidney stone...*shudder*
- I'm not a picky eater--and I'm not too bad at making food
- It's possible to confuse a zucchini and a cucumber
- Scrambled eggs that are a few days old are nasty looking--akin to yellow cow manure in a metal pan
- I really really love children
- Someday, I will have some of my own
- I probably should be a physics teaching minor
- My hair is nearly long enough for a ponytail, and I've not cut it in about 2 months
- Jar Jar Binks is one of those "did I suggest him out-loud?" mistakes
- I still love cold spaghetti
- The smell of clean laundry makes me smile
- The Sound of Music is really fun to sing/dance along to
- Someday, I'll probably be in musical theatre--I've got all the skills for it...really
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Only a Mother...
Monday, May 23, 2005
On the Benefits of Wearing a Skirt
So I'm totally out of pants, and need to do laundry.
I tell you this only because it makes what comes next make more sense than if I were just telling you these things off the cuff.
I've reached the point in my wardrobe where I no longer have pants, and I don't want to resort to wearing my dresses. That's right folks, its skirt season in the Concept household. I've been alternating between wearing skirts and shorts for a week or so now, hoping to make my jeans and singular pair of shorts last longer. After a trip to the
Now, here's another funny fact. In general, the skirts that I wear are ones I've made myself. Are you feeling skeptical about this yet? Don’t worry--I'm actually not a bad seamstress when it comes to skirts. They're all knee-length (and a little below) and made out of nice bright colors without being obnoxious. Sure, you may not believe me after the pillowcase post...but it's true. Somebody back me up here? Don't look so disbelieving there Lilaea ;).
Anyway. I've noticed a few things that happen to me only when I'm wearing a skirt. Here are a few that have happened in the past hour:
- I'm walking to the bus stop, and waiting to cross the street because a car is coming. There are no other cars coming immediately, and so as soon as they're gone, I can cross. Instead, they stop, though they have no stop sign, to let me cross the street, all the while watching me as I cross.
- As I'm waiting at said bus stop, this truck full of construction guys slows down as they pass me, honk the horn, and then turn the corner.
- The bus driver actually smiles at me as he welcomes me onto the bus, and waits for me to take a seat before pulling away.
Now, these could all just be coincidences, but I don't really think so. The funny thing is that I'm really not that attractive. I'm passable, but I'm not hot, HOT, or HOTT by any stretch of the imagination. I really think it's just the skirt, and it makes me laugh.
Wonder what I could accomplish if I wore a dress....
Monday, May 16, 2005
Somebody Hire Me?
For the benefit of all...and for my own catharsis, allow me to present to you my resume...or at least what SHOULD be there.
Novel Concept
Somewhere in Provo, UT
4-Hireme (444-7363)
Novelconcept@gmail.com
Skills: Man, I got skills like you wouldn't believe...I got skills with all of the following things:
In other news, I just counted all the money in my piggy bank. Looks like the accounts fall thus:
Pennies in my piggy bank: 253
Pennies in my real bank: a few more...
Good thing I can laugh about this...as Uffish said earlier: "Novel, you lead quite the life."
Novel Concept
Somewhere in Provo, UT
4-Hireme (444-7363)
Novelconcept@gmail.com
Skills: Man, I got skills like you wouldn't believe...I got skills with all of the following things:
- School
- Potato Chips and Cottage Cheese
- Internet Chatting
- Hundred Hour Board writing
- Meat Moving
- Nunchucks
- Ninjas
- sweltering-hot day Asphalt walking
- Rain singing
- Child Care
- Button-Pushing
- Cave making
- Food cooking
- Game playing
- Hug giving
- Charlotte/Vendetta impersonating
- Burger flipping
- Tortilla tossing
- 20 years experience playground equipment tester
- 20+ years experience
- 15+ years Movie Critic
- 20+ years life experience
- anything else it'll take to get you to hire me...Believe me--I'm perfect for this job...
In other news, I just counted all the money in my piggy bank. Looks like the accounts fall thus:
Pennies in my piggy bank: 253
Pennies in my real bank: a few more...
Good thing I can laugh about this...as Uffish said earlier: "Novel, you lead quite the life."
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
First Kiss...Or Not
You know what I can't understand? How on earth it is that most movies in which characters supposedly haven't ever had any experience with kissing...At all...Ever...Supposedly know exactly what they're doing, and are completely at ease and lacking in any awkwardness the first time they kiss. Does anyone else see some kind of sad, sorry problem here? I do. For example, shown below are some examples of first kisses--most are obvious because of age...The other is clear from film context:
Those are first kisses...Most movies kisses are obviously not. Even at the point where you'd expect the individual to know how to kiss due to other relationships and marriage, there's still go to be some initial awkwardness there...At least I'd think so. It's kind of like in the trailer for the Chronicles of Narinia. Lucy stands in hesitation before opening the wardrobe, not because she's got any kind of reason to be hesitant, but becuase WE know what's on the other side, and WE need the hesitation to build. I guess they can't make the kisses terribly awkward, because they want the movie to properly flow...but couldn't there be some kind of middle ground?
Then again, maybe I'm crazy...That's always possible.
Then again, maybe I'm crazy...That's always possible.
Saturday, May 07, 2005
Of all Sad Words of Tongue and Pen...
...The saddest are these: "It might have been."
~John Greenleaf Whittier
Wasted potential is one of my pet sorrows. I'm really good at looking at a situation on occasion and opening an entire can of emotions that I'd done a really good job, up until that point, of keeping pretty well bottled. Maybe it's unfortunate, but it helps to remind me that I can feel something other than normal on occasion, and that's a good thing.
Anyway, back to the wasted potential thing. Death is usually the catalyst that causes these thoughts. Whenever someone that I know dies relatively young, my first thoughts always go to the things that they could have done while in this life. Things that I look forward to a lot. Things like marriage, children, a house, making it a home, and grandchildren. I know that, through the gospel, they'll have the ability to have all of these things, and just because they've lost the chance to do them in mortality for the moment, doesn't mean that they'll be permanently cut off.
One of the most emotional verses in the scriptures for me comes from Mormon 6: 16-22
It's like in Gone with the Wind, where Rhett Butler, the notoriously realistic about the Civil War throws his bets in and joins to help out the cause, even though it's obviously lost. "This whole thing is a waste" he says in anger, and then proceeds to go in and fight with all he has anyway. While I have no desire to be anything like Mr. Butler in any other respect, he and I share the same view of the benefit of fighting for seemingly lost causes sometimes.
Sure, I can't do anything to fix the world's sorrow, I can't uplift every downtrodden person, and direct every lost soul. Sometimes, I don't even do a very good job of watching myself. I can keep fighting though. Every day, in everything I work to accomplish, I can fight to help others, and to bring some measure of kindness to the mean streets (yeah...Sure, this IS Provo, but we're talking more globally here), I can lend a hand to the downtrodden, and I can help to uplift the sorrowing. Sure, in the end, when everything is tallied, my work in and of itself will likely mean very little to any but myself. The passion with which I fight serves to aide my own quest for peace, kindness, joy, and fulfillment. And perhaps, as I work to serve others, I can help to bring some measure of joy to my Heavenly Father. It certainly seems like the very least I can do.
Anyway, back to the wasted potential thing. Death is usually the catalyst that causes these thoughts. Whenever someone that I know dies relatively young, my first thoughts always go to the things that they could have done while in this life. Things that I look forward to a lot. Things like marriage, children, a house, making it a home, and grandchildren. I know that, through the gospel, they'll have the ability to have all of these things, and just because they've lost the chance to do them in mortality for the moment, doesn't mean that they'll be permanently cut off.
One of the most emotional verses in the scriptures for me comes from Mormon 6: 16-22
16 And my soul was rent with anguish, because of the slain of my people, and I cried:
17 O• ye fair ones, how could ye have departed from the ways of the Lord! O ye fair ones, how could ye have rejected that Jesus, who stood with open arms to receive you!
18 Behold, if ye had not done this, ye would not have fallen. But behold, ye are fallen, and I mourn your loss.
19 O ye fair sons and daughters, ye fathers and mothers, ye husbands and wives, ye fair ones, how is it that ye could have fallen!
20 But behold, ye are gone, and my sorrows cannot bring your return.
21 And the day soon cometh that your mortal must put on immortality, and these bodies which are now moldering in corruption must soon become incorruptible bodies; and then ye must stand before the judgment-seat of Christ, to be judged according to your works; and if it so be that ye are righteous, then are ye blessed with your fathers who have gone before you.
22 O that ye had repented before this great destruction had come upon you. But behold, ye are gone, and the Father, yea, the Eternal Father of heaven, knoweth your state; and he doeth with you according to his justice and mercy.
It's like in Gone with the Wind, where Rhett Butler, the notoriously realistic about the Civil War throws his bets in and joins to help out the cause, even though it's obviously lost. "This whole thing is a waste" he says in anger, and then proceeds to go in and fight with all he has anyway. While I have no desire to be anything like Mr. Butler in any other respect, he and I share the same view of the benefit of fighting for seemingly lost causes sometimes.
Sure, I can't do anything to fix the world's sorrow, I can't uplift every downtrodden person, and direct every lost soul. Sometimes, I don't even do a very good job of watching myself. I can keep fighting though. Every day, in everything I work to accomplish, I can fight to help others, and to bring some measure of kindness to the mean streets (yeah...Sure, this IS Provo, but we're talking more globally here), I can lend a hand to the downtrodden, and I can help to uplift the sorrowing. Sure, in the end, when everything is tallied, my work in and of itself will likely mean very little to any but myself. The passion with which I fight serves to aide my own quest for peace, kindness, joy, and fulfillment. And perhaps, as I work to serve others, I can help to bring some measure of joy to my Heavenly Father. It certainly seems like the very least I can do.
Monday, May 02, 2005
Ahh...Garrrumph
Trill the R's up there--it makes it more fun.
I'm feeling really frustrated with the whole job thing right now...Which is annoying given the current money situation.
Whenever they ask the question about why you'd be perfect for the job, and what makes you any different from the other 200 or so applicants that are equally as smart, experienced, pleasant, and honest as you are, I just wish I could show them some kind of slide show of all my best moments. I really hate having to answer that question. I like to let people figure me out for me because they know me. Having to go and tell people all about how wonderful I am makes me feel naught but conceited, full of it, and strangely unable to figure out words to describe myself. Why can't I just have them call all my friends so that they can figure out what people really think of me?
Right now, I'm just grateful that I don't have to do that at the judgment. At least God already knows the thoughts and intents of my heart. While that's a little scary, it's better than me trying to figure it all out, and then explain it in a manner that, though sincere it might be, has the potential to come across instead as "no no, I'm really not proud of myself, though I should be. I'm actually quite humble...It's my best quality."
To this whole thing, I offer a hearty "Bah."
And so I'm led back to a poem that my mom gave me before coming out to college. I don't know that she even knows that I have it--as it was really just part of a lesson she taught in Sunday School. She probably doesn't even know that it means a whole lot to me. I should probably tell her.
I'm feeling really frustrated with the whole job thing right now...Which is annoying given the current money situation.
Whenever they ask the question about why you'd be perfect for the job, and what makes you any different from the other 200 or so applicants that are equally as smart, experienced, pleasant, and honest as you are, I just wish I could show them some kind of slide show of all my best moments. I really hate having to answer that question. I like to let people figure me out for me because they know me. Having to go and tell people all about how wonderful I am makes me feel naught but conceited, full of it, and strangely unable to figure out words to describe myself. Why can't I just have them call all my friends so that they can figure out what people really think of me?
Right now, I'm just grateful that I don't have to do that at the judgment. At least God already knows the thoughts and intents of my heart. While that's a little scary, it's better than me trying to figure it all out, and then explain it in a manner that, though sincere it might be, has the potential to come across instead as "no no, I'm really not proud of myself, though I should be. I'm actually quite humble...It's my best quality."
To this whole thing, I offer a hearty "Bah."
And so I'm led back to a poem that my mom gave me before coming out to college. I don't know that she even knows that I have it--as it was really just part of a lesson she taught in Sunday School. She probably doesn't even know that it means a whole lot to me. I should probably tell her.
Don't Quit
When things go wrong as they sometimes will.
When the road you’re trudging seems all up hill.
When funds are low and the debts are high.
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh.
When care is pressing you down a bit.
Rest, if you must, but do not quit.
Life is queer with its twists and turns.
As every one of us sometimes learns.
And many a failure turns about.
When he might have won had he stuck it out:
Don’t give up though the pace seems slow –
You may succeed with another blow.
Success is failure turned inside out –
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt
And you never can tell how close you are.
It may be near when it seems so far:
So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit –
It’s when things seem worst that you must not quit.
When things go wrong as they sometimes will.
When the road you’re trudging seems all up hill.
When funds are low and the debts are high.
And you want to smile, but you have to sigh.
When care is pressing you down a bit.
Rest, if you must, but do not quit.
Life is queer with its twists and turns.
As every one of us sometimes learns.
And many a failure turns about.
When he might have won had he stuck it out:
Don’t give up though the pace seems slow –
You may succeed with another blow.
Success is failure turned inside out –
The silver tint of the clouds of doubt
And you never can tell how close you are.
It may be near when it seems so far:
So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit –
It’s when things seem worst that you must not quit.
Yeah...I probably CAN do this...
Friday, April 29, 2005
"Oh yeah? Well I'm wearing a pillow case."
Hello all, and welcome to the wonderful world of sewing in the wilderness with Novel. Today we're going to teach you what do in case you happen to go on an awesome camping trip, and forget about the fact that you're going to church on Sunday. Consequently, you may have only brought to pairs of pants, and rather old-looking jeans at that, and a pair of khaki shorts. Here's what you need to do: First, take the second pillow case you have off of your pillow. You know the one--the ruffles at the bottom, with a pattern much like that pictured above, that one. Then, split the seam in the end that's not usually open using your pocket knife. Then, be sure to rip a small slit in the top of the pillow case so that you can tie it together in the front for better fit/decoration...Viola! Instant skirt in the wilderness! Tune in next time as Novel teaches you how to make bandanas with the same material, and your bare hands...
Yes friends, I wore a pillow case to church, because I forgot to bring a skirt on our camping trip. For me, I just couldn't wear pants to church when I had some other alternative, and it didn't actually turn out looking terrible...Honest. Only those who knew what it was found it hilarious. Mostly meaning, me, Uffish, E, and S. It was really great. Anytime someone had something good to say, I got to come back with, "Oh yeah? Well, I'm wearing a pillow case!" Should something tragic be happening, the same thing could be said, only sadder. If someone wanted to make me feel silly, they came back with, "Oh yeah, what do you know? You're wearing a pillow case." Fun times in the wilderness, fun times.
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
The Truth About College
1. Quarters are gold.
2. Two meals per day is the standard.
3. Road trip whenever possible.
4. Going to the mailbox was never an ego booster/breaker before.
5. You will begin to nap again.
6. Your bookstore bill will almost equal tuition.
7. Squirt guns = Stress relief.
8. Instant messenger becomes an addiction.
9. E-mail becomes your second language.
10.College students throw paper airplanes too.
11. You never realized that so many people were smarter than you.
12. College football is the coolest thing on the planet.
13. Western Europe could be wiped out by a horrible plague and you wouldn't know, but you can recite last week's re-run of That 70's Show word for word.
14. Cartoons are for all ages.
15. Disney movies are more than just classics.
16. You will never rent/buy more movies in your life.
17. No one is too old for video games.
18. Procrastination is an art form.
19. SNOOZE is more addicting than pot.
20. Thanks to Kazaa/Audiogalaxy/Morpheus, you will never listen to any of your CDs ever again.
21. It never hurt so much to get sick.
22. The health service nurses are there because they couldn't make it at a real hospital. Never, don't ever forget that.
23. Care packages are right up there with birthdays.
24. Campus is only clean for Family Weekend and Freshman Orientation.
25. Nothing you want to register for will be open.
26. Classes the later the better.
27. You are no longer thankful that the fire alarms are here to protect you.
28. Jeans may be worn as many times as the wearer desires.
29. The only time to dress up is when your jeans are dirty.
30. Showers become less important; sleep becomes more important.
31.Asleep by 2:30 am is an early night.
32. Creativity in the dining halls is KEY.
33. The freshman 15 is NOT a myth!!!
34. If it's snowing out, the only reason you will leave your room is for food.
35. Dishes smell after days of piling up.
36. Cereal makes a meal any time of the day.
37. You will eat anywhere that is a buffet.
38. You will eat anything that is free.
39. New additions to food groups: pitapit and pizza.
40. Stealing from the dining hall will become second nature.
41. ATM's are the devils advocate. ATM= Another Twenty Missing.
42. Keys have never been so important, yet you seem to lose them or lock yourself out of
the room even more.
43. Duct tape heals all wounds.
44. If they say you can't have it in your dorm, they are just kidding.
45. You will come to hate hallways with a passion. (STAIRS ARE THE DEVIL)
46. Those ugly cinderblocks are not sound proof.
47. Pictures, posters, emails or anything else to cover the ugly cell we live in will be transformed into wallpaper.
48. Everyone is only nice for the first week. After that, no matter how nice you are, some people just won't smile back. Get used to it.
49. You are never alone!
50. You realize college is the ideal lifestyle, except for those pesky classes
2. Two meals per day is the standard.
3. Road trip whenever possible.
4. Going to the mailbox was never an ego booster/breaker before.
5. You will begin to nap again.
6. Your bookstore bill will almost equal tuition.
7. Squirt guns = Stress relief.
8. Instant messenger becomes an addiction.
9. E-mail becomes your second language.
10.College students throw paper airplanes too.
11. You never realized that so many people were smarter than you.
12. College football is the coolest thing on the planet.
13. Western Europe could be wiped out by a horrible plague and you wouldn't know, but you can recite last week's re-run of That 70's Show word for word.
14. Cartoons are for all ages.
15. Disney movies are more than just classics.
16. You will never rent/buy more movies in your life.
17. No one is too old for video games.
18. Procrastination is an art form.
19. SNOOZE is more addicting than pot.
20. Thanks to Kazaa/Audiogalaxy/Morpheus, you will never listen to any of your CDs ever again.
21. It never hurt so much to get sick.
22. The health service nurses are there because they couldn't make it at a real hospital. Never, don't ever forget that.
23. Care packages are right up there with birthdays.
24. Campus is only clean for Family Weekend and Freshman Orientation.
25. Nothing you want to register for will be open.
26. Classes the later the better.
27. You are no longer thankful that the fire alarms are here to protect you.
28. Jeans may be worn as many times as the wearer desires.
29. The only time to dress up is when your jeans are dirty.
30. Showers become less important; sleep becomes more important.
31.Asleep by 2:30 am is an early night.
32. Creativity in the dining halls is KEY.
33. The freshman 15 is NOT a myth!!!
34. If it's snowing out, the only reason you will leave your room is for food.
35. Dishes smell after days of piling up.
36. Cereal makes a meal any time of the day.
37. You will eat anywhere that is a buffet.
38. You will eat anything that is free.
39. New additions to food groups: pitapit and pizza.
40. Stealing from the dining hall will become second nature.
41. ATM's are the devils advocate. ATM= Another Twenty Missing.
42. Keys have never been so important, yet you seem to lose them or lock yourself out of
the room even more.
43. Duct tape heals all wounds.
44. If they say you can't have it in your dorm, they are just kidding.
45. You will come to hate hallways with a passion. (STAIRS ARE THE DEVIL)
46. Those ugly cinderblocks are not sound proof.
47. Pictures, posters, emails or anything else to cover the ugly cell we live in will be transformed into wallpaper.
48. Everyone is only nice for the first week. After that, no matter how nice you are, some people just won't smile back. Get used to it.
49. You are never alone!
50. You realize college is the ideal lifestyle, except for those pesky classes
Saturday, April 16, 2005
Reminiscence
I'm in a bit of a nostalgic mood right now--packing will do that to me. It sets me thinking about all the different stuff that I've got, and just how cool some of my stuff is, and it makes me especially think about where it came from.
For example, I have a plant thats currently hanging in the corner of my room that I bought last year for two reasons. First, I really like plants, and thought it would cheer up our dreary dorm room. Second, I felt like having something to take care of--just to see if I could. It's alive and well and looks better than when I bought it. This could be because it's finally getting to keep it's dangling arms...since they're not getting shut into the fridge. :) I've also added three other plants to my collection-also all doing well. I really like them, and they're not even the flowering types of plants. They're all just green, with really great shaped leaves. I love some flowers. Poor Uffish gets the same line from me whenever we pass by them on campus. Tulips, Daisies, and Daffodils-all my favorites. If you should ever feel the need to leave me flowers for some reason, stick them by the reading girl in the library--the one who's breaking the honor code by not wearing shoes on campus--and send me a message or something...just make sure they're daisies or tulips, or daffodils. Or don't...no big deal. :D
I've got this great glass cup that my mom bought be when we both went to Gatlinburg for a regional forensics competition. I competed in 5 events- Original Oratory, Debate, Extempranious Speaking, Duo, and Impromptu Speaking. My mom came along as a judge. She was such a good judge too-the kind that actually paid attention and made suggestions for things that you should do in the future, instead of leaving dumb comments. I got a comment from one judge that said, "Hated the shirt." Weird. I also took 5th place overall in Impromptu Speaking at that event, and there were people from about 5 states there-something like 30 high schools...that felt really good...and it was really great to get to share it with my mom, it's always nice to share things that you love with the people you also love.
I also really love all my pictures. I've got pictures of my family, pictures of my friends, several pictures of my best friend, and a few of myself...mostly with those people. They're really probably the best part of everything that I've got in my room. I love stories. I love the why behind each what that there is. I love to find out who people are, and what they're about. I love to find out how things affect people. These are all reasons that I'm currently a History Teaching Major...because I love to study it, and then to tell people about what I find. That part is also one of the reasons that I like to be a Board writer--I love it when a question comes in that I actually know the answer to without further research. Sometimes, after researching some topic on my own, I'm tempted to ask a question...just so I can answer it and find a use for my new knowledge...that doesn't happen often...don't worry. :D
I'm in the mood right now to sit down with my family and just tell stories...not really the newer ones, but the old family stories--you know, the ones that you hear all the time...the ones that kind of explain who your family is. That's what I want to do--sit with some people and just tell stories from a long time ago. Right now, I know what it's like to feel old, because I just want to look at the past. I'm excited to get to have children, and then grandchildren...the ones that I get to tell my history to, and the ones whose future I get to help shape. Life is good, and it keeps moving, I'm just glad that I know where it's eventually going to end up.
For example, I have a plant thats currently hanging in the corner of my room that I bought last year for two reasons. First, I really like plants, and thought it would cheer up our dreary dorm room. Second, I felt like having something to take care of--just to see if I could. It's alive and well and looks better than when I bought it. This could be because it's finally getting to keep it's dangling arms...since they're not getting shut into the fridge. :) I've also added three other plants to my collection-also all doing well. I really like them, and they're not even the flowering types of plants. They're all just green, with really great shaped leaves. I love some flowers. Poor Uffish gets the same line from me whenever we pass by them on campus. Tulips, Daisies, and Daffodils-all my favorites. If you should ever feel the need to leave me flowers for some reason, stick them by the reading girl in the library--the one who's breaking the honor code by not wearing shoes on campus--and send me a message or something...just make sure they're daisies or tulips, or daffodils. Or don't...no big deal. :D
I've got this great glass cup that my mom bought be when we both went to Gatlinburg for a regional forensics competition. I competed in 5 events- Original Oratory, Debate, Extempranious Speaking, Duo, and Impromptu Speaking. My mom came along as a judge. She was such a good judge too-the kind that actually paid attention and made suggestions for things that you should do in the future, instead of leaving dumb comments. I got a comment from one judge that said, "Hated the shirt." Weird. I also took 5th place overall in Impromptu Speaking at that event, and there were people from about 5 states there-something like 30 high schools...that felt really good...and it was really great to get to share it with my mom, it's always nice to share things that you love with the people you also love.
I also really love all my pictures. I've got pictures of my family, pictures of my friends, several pictures of my best friend, and a few of myself...mostly with those people. They're really probably the best part of everything that I've got in my room. I love stories. I love the why behind each what that there is. I love to find out who people are, and what they're about. I love to find out how things affect people. These are all reasons that I'm currently a History Teaching Major...because I love to study it, and then to tell people about what I find. That part is also one of the reasons that I like to be a Board writer--I love it when a question comes in that I actually know the answer to without further research. Sometimes, after researching some topic on my own, I'm tempted to ask a question...just so I can answer it and find a use for my new knowledge...that doesn't happen often...don't worry. :D
I'm in the mood right now to sit down with my family and just tell stories...not really the newer ones, but the old family stories--you know, the ones that you hear all the time...the ones that kind of explain who your family is. That's what I want to do--sit with some people and just tell stories from a long time ago. Right now, I know what it's like to feel old, because I just want to look at the past. I'm excited to get to have children, and then grandchildren...the ones that I get to tell my history to, and the ones whose future I get to help shape. Life is good, and it keeps moving, I'm just glad that I know where it's eventually going to end up.
Saturday, April 09, 2005
Spandex- A Privilege, Not a Right
Uffish and I have been playing racquetball on a pretty regular basis lately, and my trips with her down to the RB have caused me to remember some previous reflections.
Why is it that the clothes that you're supposed to work out in only look good on people who are already skinny and athletic? Also, why do gyms cater really only to those who are physically fit?
For example, the advertisements for exercise clothes always seem to say, "If you put on these clothes, you will be happy, hunky, athletic and hot." People like the message they see, and so they buy them...only to put them on and realize they look nothing like the smiling hardened bodies found on the tags they wear. They feel more like a stuffed sausage...
Mmmmm....right?
Same thing happens with the gym. You go to the gym to work out right? To lose weight in some cases, and to get in shape in others. Why do they have so many mirrors around those places? Sure, those people who look really good while working out don't mind. But some people, who aren't at the height of their athletic abilities don't really feel like watching themselves look like a set of Venetian blinds opening and closing as they travail up the treadmill. Who wants the pick-up line they hear to be "Is your daddy a baker? 'Cause you got a nice set of rolls..."
All opposed?
So here's to figuring out some way to find work-out clothes that can actually flatter those who NEED them, and not just those who are already sporting abs that even Mighty Quinn could appreciate, because if people are ashamed of going outside in the clothes, the whole workout cycle is not going to get started...maybe that's why we're supposedly so obese.
Why is it that the clothes that you're supposed to work out in only look good on people who are already skinny and athletic? Also, why do gyms cater really only to those who are physically fit?
For example, the advertisements for exercise clothes always seem to say, "If you put on these clothes, you will be happy, hunky, athletic and hot." People like the message they see, and so they buy them...only to put them on and realize they look nothing like the smiling hardened bodies found on the tags they wear. They feel more like a stuffed sausage...
Mmmmm....right?
Same thing happens with the gym. You go to the gym to work out right? To lose weight in some cases, and to get in shape in others. Why do they have so many mirrors around those places? Sure, those people who look really good while working out don't mind. But some people, who aren't at the height of their athletic abilities don't really feel like watching themselves look like a set of Venetian blinds opening and closing as they travail up the treadmill. Who wants the pick-up line they hear to be "Is your daddy a baker? 'Cause you got a nice set of rolls..."
All opposed?
So here's to figuring out some way to find work-out clothes that can actually flatter those who NEED them, and not just those who are already sporting abs that even Mighty Quinn could appreciate, because if people are ashamed of going outside in the clothes, the whole workout cycle is not going to get started...maybe that's why we're supposedly so obese.
Thursday, April 07, 2005
Packing Up, Shipping Out
My room is in complete disarray at this point, owing to the fact that I am getting started on the whole packing thing. Last night Ms. Addison and I started it all...and it was a pretty great adventure.
first, there was the bed. It was up on stilts, and so, of course we had to clear everything out from under it, and then lower it. Well, it being all my stuff, I climbed under it and got it all out, and then we moved Oscar the Couch (my DI chair with high aspirations), and then we moved the fridge. Finally it was time to lower the bed. "What's the best way to do this?" Thought Novel. "Of course! I'll stand up and use my back as the means to hold the bed up while Ms. Addison pulls off the legs!"
Brilliant...
So maybe that wasn't the best of ideas. I mean, it DID work, but...ouch. The springs on our beds are what I had my back pressed to...silly silly Novel.
So after all that fun and excitement, we get to the REAL excitement for the evening-a moth flew into the open window. Now, neither Ms. Addison nor I are really terribly girly girls, and neither one of us was afraid of the moth--it just didn't belong in my room, so we had to get it out.
Well, first things first, all the lights go out, in hopes that he'll head out the open window. Well, THAT doesn't work, mostly because now we can't see where he is. So then there's the turning the light on and off for short periods of time so that we can see where the little bug is. At one point the light comes back on, and the bug flies into the cover of the fluorescent light above my desk...dumb bug. Then, I grab my flashlight, and we try to lead it out to the window by having it follow the light there, while tapping on the cover with a spoon. Well, he follows the light...right towards my hand. At this point, I'm disgusted to say, I squeak and toss the flashlight onto the bed. How utterly embarrassing and female. Ms. Addison is getting a good laugh at me, as I have "just made noises she's never heard from me before." so then we've lost the bug's location again, and we're trying to find it...not working. so then suddenly, he flies into my back-not allowed! Anyway, finally Ms. Addison thinks to use my bright little lamp so he'll fly towards that, and I decide to put it out the window so that he'll fly towards it, AND out the window. Novel efficiency Concept...that's my name. This sounds like a grand idea, until Ms. Addison points out that it might just attract another bug...
oh yeah.
We decide to do it anyway, and it works. The bug hovers closer to the light as we maneuver it over the desk, and then finally, he perches on a piece of paper right by the open window, causing the suspense to escalate. Finally, he flies out the window and starts to fly around the top of the light. I start to wiggle it around in circles because, probably, it'll make the bug dizzy and disoriented. Then, I quickly pull in the light and Ms. Addison shuts the window.
There's such a feeling of triumph when you've outsmarted a square inch insect.
On another note--I slept amazingly well last night, surrounded by boxes, with my bed closer to the floor and such. There's something kind of familiar about it all. All I'm missing is my family to play in them-forts in the garage with the book boxes...now there are some fun times.
first, there was the bed. It was up on stilts, and so, of course we had to clear everything out from under it, and then lower it. Well, it being all my stuff, I climbed under it and got it all out, and then we moved Oscar the Couch (my DI chair with high aspirations), and then we moved the fridge. Finally it was time to lower the bed. "What's the best way to do this?" Thought Novel. "Of course! I'll stand up and use my back as the means to hold the bed up while Ms. Addison pulls off the legs!"
Brilliant...
So maybe that wasn't the best of ideas. I mean, it DID work, but...ouch. The springs on our beds are what I had my back pressed to...silly silly Novel.
So after all that fun and excitement, we get to the REAL excitement for the evening-a moth flew into the open window. Now, neither Ms. Addison nor I are really terribly girly girls, and neither one of us was afraid of the moth--it just didn't belong in my room, so we had to get it out.
Well, first things first, all the lights go out, in hopes that he'll head out the open window. Well, THAT doesn't work, mostly because now we can't see where he is. So then there's the turning the light on and off for short periods of time so that we can see where the little bug is. At one point the light comes back on, and the bug flies into the cover of the fluorescent light above my desk...dumb bug. Then, I grab my flashlight, and we try to lead it out to the window by having it follow the light there, while tapping on the cover with a spoon. Well, he follows the light...right towards my hand. At this point, I'm disgusted to say, I squeak and toss the flashlight onto the bed. How utterly embarrassing and female. Ms. Addison is getting a good laugh at me, as I have "just made noises she's never heard from me before." so then we've lost the bug's location again, and we're trying to find it...not working. so then suddenly, he flies into my back-not allowed! Anyway, finally Ms. Addison thinks to use my bright little lamp so he'll fly towards that, and I decide to put it out the window so that he'll fly towards it, AND out the window. Novel efficiency Concept...that's my name. This sounds like a grand idea, until Ms. Addison points out that it might just attract another bug...
oh yeah.
We decide to do it anyway, and it works. The bug hovers closer to the light as we maneuver it over the desk, and then finally, he perches on a piece of paper right by the open window, causing the suspense to escalate. Finally, he flies out the window and starts to fly around the top of the light. I start to wiggle it around in circles because, probably, it'll make the bug dizzy and disoriented. Then, I quickly pull in the light and Ms. Addison shuts the window.
There's such a feeling of triumph when you've outsmarted a square inch insect.
On another note--I slept amazingly well last night, surrounded by boxes, with my bed closer to the floor and such. There's something kind of familiar about it all. All I'm missing is my family to play in them-forts in the garage with the book boxes...now there are some fun times.
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
Monday, April 04, 2005
The Novelty is Wearing Out...
Friends, I'm starting to hit end of the semester burn-out...and this year, it's even worse than last year.
Last year I looked forward to finals. Finals week, sickening as it might be, is actually my favorite week of school...mostly because, once you've gotten there, you've basically "passed the point of no return" as it were. You should know almost everything, papers are done, and all that's left to do are tests...and lots of them. I love the completed feeling I get as a test is finished, because then, the class is done too-it's great!
Anyway, this year I'm just hitting tired. I'm still excited about finals, but I'm just tired...all the time. I sleep, I get full nights sometimes, and I'm still ALWAYS tired.
Mostly, it's my own fault. I've gotten myself sucked into a vicious cycle. This is what happens:
Spend time until all hours of the night playing with/talking to friends and finally crash into bed at an odd hour of the morning.
THEN
My alarm goes off at a reasonable hour the next morning, as I have class, but the hour seems entirely unreasonable because I stayed up until all hours the night before. Consequently, I drag myself to class ("at least I'm going" justifies my brain), and then take notes and struggle to participate with half of my mental capacities functioning.
OR
I sleep away half the morning in an attempt to catch up on sleep, and still feel like I need a nap that afternoon...causing myself to be utterly unproductive and lazy.
THEN
Because of the fact that I've been either a walking zombie or because I've napped in the afternoon, I can't seem to get myself to sleep before those odd hours of the morning again...and the cycle repeats itself. Over, and over, and over, and over...
Now, I do these things because I enjoy them. It's fun to go walking at night, to talk to people, to do things. I had an early bedtime until we moved to
There was a but statement if ever one was coming...
BUT...Can't we do things during daylight hours? Is there any reason that we can't socialize while it's still actually that same day, and not the early hours of the next? I actually like the way that most of you look-I've had the rare occasion to see you in the daylight, and you're all perfectly acceptable to gaze upon...is there something about the sun that we hate? I understand that odd hours of the night often facilitate open communication blah blah blah...but can't we try and practice some of that while the sun shines? This isn't to say that I don't ever want to go out and do things later...but not EVERYTHING has to be done at night. I'm just afraid the novelty of it all is beginning to wear off, and the Novel is beginning to wear out.
One with the Refuse...
I've a confession to make...
I don't have the balance of an elephant on a beach ball...it's really very sad.
Today I was sitting on my bed and attempting to push the trash down, because it was getting kind of full. So I lean over like so:
And somehow, I end up completely in the trash can, like so:
Now, I'm not entirely sure how this happened, especially since I'd think that it'd be pretty difficult, what with my trashcan being just a regular, knee-high trash can. Oh well. It's too bad you guys can't flip-book the pictures...it's even funnier to watch as a pseudo cartoon.
What a nerd.
I don't have the balance of an elephant on a beach ball...it's really very sad.
Today I was sitting on my bed and attempting to push the trash down, because it was getting kind of full. So I lean over like so:
And somehow, I end up completely in the trash can, like so:
Now, I'm not entirely sure how this happened, especially since I'd think that it'd be pretty difficult, what with my trashcan being just a regular, knee-high trash can. Oh well. It's too bad you guys can't flip-book the pictures...it's even funnier to watch as a pseudo cartoon.
What a nerd.
Sunday, April 03, 2005
I Belong
Do you ever have moments where you finally catch some of the vision of the Church? Times where you seem to understand exactly where things are going? I got one of those today, and it makes me so happy...just ask Uffish, BAWB, BamaBeau, or Wafflewitz...they were all there.
I got to attend two sessions of conference today. It was really fun going to the morning one, though I was a bit tired. I'm running on 7 hours of sleep for the past two nights...not the best way to do conference. The Saturday afternoon session is the one that made me really excited though, and here's why.
I've always wanted to go to the Saturday Afternoon session, because that's the one that you sustain everyone in. I know you can sit at home and do it, and I always do, but it's exciting to think about doing it there, where they can actually see you, surrounded by thousands of other people doing the exact same thing. It's incredible! Sustaining is one of my favorite parts of church, especially when it's in general conference. For me, raising your right arm is almost poetic, in that you have the opportunity to say so much with a single action. It used to bother me that it was done so en masse...but you know what? It's not like we're voting on whether or not everything that's going on with callings is right-the Lord doesn't ever require our stamp of approval on anything. Sure, we can raise our hands in opposition if necessary, but that rarely happens. I think that raising your hand is really for you. It lets you say: "I have a testimony of this church, of the process of revelation and callings, of the fact that God speaks to us today, and I will support his choices of servants and do all I can to help them."
What power in a single action! Every time you raise your arm, you're throwing your support towards the side of the Lord (a.k.a. the winning side). You're standing with Nephi,
Sounds like the best kind of company to be in.
And that's what makes me so excited about the Church. It's over 12 million people who, in theory, are united in a grand purpose, to bring the
Joseph Smith said to a group of brethren in
Guys…that is US! We are the fulfillment of prophecy. THIS is THAT church, and I can't help but think that we now still can't comprehend what the Church may yet become. Take a second to look beyond the faults of the members, and just feel what exactly it is that you are a part of. Look past what people are at this moment, and love them for a second for what they can become because of what we have. If you do, perhaps you too will have some desire to sing hymns of praise for all that we have. This Gospel is true, and it's going to keep moving forward, with or without us. We are a part of something great, and I belong here...
...and that's a wonderful feeling.
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