Thankfuls! I love this holiday! : )
1.Michelle's hair and jewelry - it's preeeeeetty.
2.The extra light bulbs in my apartment, coming from Stephanie's lamp and the Christmas tree. It defeats the gloom of Stadium Terrace lighting.
3.Weird friends... apparently I have a few of them. Like Michelle, for example, who is hollering down the vent to communicate with Stephanie in the other room.
4.My car, which has now been vacuumed.
5.Cold toes and hot chocolate... combined with a warm, fuzzy blanket (NOT a snuggie).
6.Finding out my 10 page paper is due a week later than I thought.
7.The fact that I just called my blog "my blag." Only it wasn't quite "blag." It was more of a "blog/blag" hybrid sound... "bloag."
8.Chuck... the mostest awesomest TV show, and probably the only one I have ever watched every single episode of to date.
9.Typos in the book I'm writing an essay on, because that's something I can mention in my essay, and thereby take up more of the 3,000 word requirement! Bwah ha ha!
10.Cool whip and jell-o.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
The Whateverth Day of Thanksgiving - I've lost count.
So, it's actually like 1:57 a.m. on the 13th, instead of the 12th like this post says, but Lynnae showed me this awesome backdating thing.
Today I am grateful for:
1.Clash of the Titans - definitely a B movie, but come on... it's Greek mythology. They have yet to make a really, really good one (Disney's Hercules does not count!), so I'm glad for what I've got. (Incidentally, if anyone knows an actually good Greek or Roman mythology movie, I'd like to hear about it.)
2.The weekend
3.Getting started on the homework I've been trying to make myself start for a looooong time
4.Kamaron and peanut butter being synced to his ipod touch
5.Plumbing
6.The fact that my roommate is borderline falling asleep on the floor
7.The fact that tomorrow is Saturday
8.Epicness in all its epic forms
9.The fact that it's bedtime and I can go to bed
10.The 4 blankets I shall soon be snuggled under, keeping me all toasty warm!
Today I am grateful for:
1.Clash of the Titans - definitely a B movie, but come on... it's Greek mythology. They have yet to make a really, really good one (Disney's Hercules does not count!), so I'm glad for what I've got. (Incidentally, if anyone knows an actually good Greek or Roman mythology movie, I'd like to hear about it.)
2.The weekend
3.Getting started on the homework I've been trying to make myself start for a looooong time
4.Kamaron and peanut butter being synced to his ipod touch
5.Plumbing
6.The fact that my roommate is borderline falling asleep on the floor
7.The fact that tomorrow is Saturday
8.Epicness in all its epic forms
9.The fact that it's bedtime and I can go to bed
10.The 4 blankets I shall soon be snuggled under, keeping me all toasty warm!
Friday, November 12, 2010
With all due respect, your job sucks.
Today is Veteran's Day. I didn't know this until I went to campus and saw the flag at half mast. When I bumped into my friend I asked, "Who died?" and some random guy walking by informed me of the holiday... which my friend and I determined should mean we have the day off classes... right? Right? Riiiiiiiight??? Seriously, BYU, we don't get the day off??? What kind of unpatriotic/non-federal-holiday supporting school is this??? (says the girl who had to go to Wikipedia to find out why Veteran's Day was in November, and not July... or possibly February... like she thought. For the record, I now know that it is commemorating the signing of the armistice on 11/11/18, at 11:00 am, thereby ending WWI with a crap treaty that really left Germany in the dump and set the stage for WWII... according to my world history class, anyway. I never actually looked at the treaty myself. This tangent has been brought to you by the letter B, the number 3, and viewers like you.)
**Ahem**
Anyway, as I was walking by the administration building where the flag was billowing at half mast, I saw two soldiers in suits. Despite the fact that they were in suits, not uniform, I knew they were soldiers. How did I know this? Well, because they were standing with their hands behind their back... not. moving. a. muscle. I kid you not, these guys' eyeballs weren't even twitching. I'm not entirely sure if they were breathing. Totally still. I'll admit, I was impressed. They were standing on either side of the flag, guarding a white flower wreath, looking like literal statues.
As I continued on my way to the library, I had a thought. "How the heck do those people do that???" I mean seriously! I have trouble just sitting in one chair for more than an hour, much less not even twitching. That must be torture! What are they looking at? What goes through their heads? Are they allowed to daydream, or are their brains as immobile as their bodies?
I'll just say I really hope they didn't go into the army for the excitement of it, because that has go to be THE single most boring job in the universe. Can you imagine? You see the Marine Corps commercials with the very ripped and dirt smudged guy leaping over flames, swimming through alligator infested waters, and climbing a sheer cliff to stand victorious at the top, where he is honored with the uniform and a sword (which he will clearly be needing on the front lines), and you think, "Now THAT is a man. What trials he must have suffered to be able to climb that cliff! He truly earned his uniform and sword!" Then, burning with passionate and patriotic fire, you enlist. The beginning is promising - you're certainly suffering. Boot camp, where they scream in your face and make you scrub the floor with a toothbrush. But, you make it through!
Finally! You are ready to be a true man now!
You're waiting for your first assignment. What will it be? You've trained long and hard for this moment - a chance to use those bulging (though not quite as much as the guy in the commercial) muscles, suffer hunger and fatigue while you fight for your country! You'll get to test your strength, push yourself to the max!
Your commanding officer approaches.
This is it!
"Alright, I want you to go stand out by that flower wreath over there, and don't move a muscle."
Really?
At this point, the proverbial young warrior in the story is thinking, "I enlisted and went through boot camp... for this?"
But, being the good soldier he is, he goes and stands by the wreath.
People are walking by.
He can't look, because that would require turning his eyeballs.
People are talking, and he can only catch snatches of their words.
He can't listen, because that would require turning his head.
He's bored.
A little kid is hiding in the bushes directly in front of the soldier, sticking his face out, tongue wiggling around his face... he goes back in... he comes back out with crossed eyes and fish lips... the soldier knows he's trying to make him laugh... back in... back out with his fingers pulling his lips wide away from his teeth... the soldier's stomach is cramping from the effort of not laughing... the kid goes back in, and his cheeks come back out... but not those cheeks...
I'm sorry, but the life of a soldier in Utah has got to be the single most boring thing in this universe. Really, dude, you're guarding flowers. Mmmmm, enthralling!
Well, at least it's not a war. Peace, love and flowers, people... especially the flowers.
**Ahem**
Anyway, as I was walking by the administration building where the flag was billowing at half mast, I saw two soldiers in suits. Despite the fact that they were in suits, not uniform, I knew they were soldiers. How did I know this? Well, because they were standing with their hands behind their back... not. moving. a. muscle. I kid you not, these guys' eyeballs weren't even twitching. I'm not entirely sure if they were breathing. Totally still. I'll admit, I was impressed. They were standing on either side of the flag, guarding a white flower wreath, looking like literal statues.
As I continued on my way to the library, I had a thought. "How the heck do those people do that???" I mean seriously! I have trouble just sitting in one chair for more than an hour, much less not even twitching. That must be torture! What are they looking at? What goes through their heads? Are they allowed to daydream, or are their brains as immobile as their bodies?
I'll just say I really hope they didn't go into the army for the excitement of it, because that has go to be THE single most boring job in the universe. Can you imagine? You see the Marine Corps commercials with the very ripped and dirt smudged guy leaping over flames, swimming through alligator infested waters, and climbing a sheer cliff to stand victorious at the top, where he is honored with the uniform and a sword (which he will clearly be needing on the front lines), and you think, "Now THAT is a man. What trials he must have suffered to be able to climb that cliff! He truly earned his uniform and sword!" Then, burning with passionate and patriotic fire, you enlist. The beginning is promising - you're certainly suffering. Boot camp, where they scream in your face and make you scrub the floor with a toothbrush. But, you make it through!
Finally! You are ready to be a true man now!
You're waiting for your first assignment. What will it be? You've trained long and hard for this moment - a chance to use those bulging (though not quite as much as the guy in the commercial) muscles, suffer hunger and fatigue while you fight for your country! You'll get to test your strength, push yourself to the max!
Your commanding officer approaches.
This is it!
"Alright, I want you to go stand out by that flower wreath over there, and don't move a muscle."
Really?
At this point, the proverbial young warrior in the story is thinking, "I enlisted and went through boot camp... for this?"
But, being the good soldier he is, he goes and stands by the wreath.
People are walking by.
He can't look, because that would require turning his eyeballs.
People are talking, and he can only catch snatches of their words.
He can't listen, because that would require turning his head.
He's bored.
A little kid is hiding in the bushes directly in front of the soldier, sticking his face out, tongue wiggling around his face... he goes back in... he comes back out with crossed eyes and fish lips... the soldier knows he's trying to make him laugh... back in... back out with his fingers pulling his lips wide away from his teeth... the soldier's stomach is cramping from the effort of not laughing... the kid goes back in, and his cheeks come back out... but not those cheeks...
I'm sorry, but the life of a soldier in Utah has got to be the single most boring thing in this universe. Really, dude, you're guarding flowers. Mmmmm, enthralling!
Well, at least it's not a war. Peace, love and flowers, people... especially the flowers.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Thanksgiving entry #4
Wow... what a day!
Today I am grateful for:
1.Laughs in class. A guy had a very definite SNORT... which triggered a laugh from the girl next to him, who had absolutely no room to laugh at his style, because hers literally sounded like a hyena.
2.The fact that the brand spankin' new automatic toilet on campus flushed 4 times while I was sitting on it, and when I stood up... nothing...
3.Baby Bananas Bursting with Blavor... which is what happens when flavor attempts to join the alliteration club... and fails.
4.The fact that the girl in front of me and my friend Chad had her hair held together with a spoon.
Yes, a spoon. There was also a real live, picked up off the ground, leaf in there.
5.After the girl with a spoon and leaf in her hair added a pen, Chad and I discussed folding some origami, and adding THAT to the mix.
6.Chad suggested adding a Christmas ornament too.
7.I reached into my bag to find something else to add and pulled out a USB cable... which would make a GREAT hair accessory.
8.When I gave her a compliment, specifically related to her leaf, she said, "Yeah, I found that and I was like, 'You know, I want that to be in my hair.'" Awesomeness. Did she think that as she was eating her cereal this morning too? "Spoon! You know, I want that to be in my hair." I wonder what she does during the holidays. "Candy cane! I want that to be in my hair." "Christmas lights! I want those to be in my hair." "Life sized nativity scene! I want that to be in my hair!"
9.I'm also grateful for my lunch, which consisted of a build-your-own salad: lettuce, chicken, eggs, bacon, cheddar cheese, cucumbers and croutons. Yum!
10.My brown hat, which is not only cute, but kept me verrrrry warm on my walk to school.
Today I am grateful for:
1.Laughs in class. A guy had a very definite SNORT... which triggered a laugh from the girl next to him, who had absolutely no room to laugh at his style, because hers literally sounded like a hyena.
2.The fact that the brand spankin' new automatic toilet on campus flushed 4 times while I was sitting on it, and when I stood up... nothing...
3.Baby Bananas Bursting with Blavor... which is what happens when flavor attempts to join the alliteration club... and fails.
4.The fact that the girl in front of me and my friend Chad had her hair held together with a spoon.
Yes, a spoon. There was also a real live, picked up off the ground, leaf in there.
5.After the girl with a spoon and leaf in her hair added a pen, Chad and I discussed folding some origami, and adding THAT to the mix.
6.Chad suggested adding a Christmas ornament too.
7.I reached into my bag to find something else to add and pulled out a USB cable... which would make a GREAT hair accessory.
8.When I gave her a compliment, specifically related to her leaf, she said, "Yeah, I found that and I was like, 'You know, I want that to be in my hair.'" Awesomeness. Did she think that as she was eating her cereal this morning too? "Spoon! You know, I want that to be in my hair." I wonder what she does during the holidays. "Candy cane! I want that to be in my hair." "Christmas lights! I want those to be in my hair." "Life sized nativity scene! I want that to be in my hair!"
9.I'm also grateful for my lunch, which consisted of a build-your-own salad: lettuce, chicken, eggs, bacon, cheddar cheese, cucumbers and croutons. Yum!
10.My brown hat, which is not only cute, but kept me verrrrry warm on my walk to school.
Silence, Philistine! I am an ARTEEST!
Ah, art! How we love it in all its forms! Painting, photography, movies or writing - or in Clarke's case arranging plants and playing in the dirt - it's a chance to reach inside the deepest recesses of our souls and extract something not only beautiful, but unique to our selves. That picture I took - that's a piece of me. The story I wrote, that's a creation of my mind.
Michelle is discovering her artistic side. She always knew she liked editing movies and scrapbooking, but now that she's not drenching herself in stress from school and a new job (she's becoming an expert at the ancient art of preschooliyaki by now, a purple belt, I would say) she can invest much time and energy into being creative. She is also discovering the one thing no artist can avoid - criticism.
Artists love criticism. "Tell me what is wrong with my creation!" we cry. "Help me to improve my craft!"
That's right, we artists - we ask for it. We beg for it. We throw our work at people and ask them what they think, knowing they will find our little faults and help us not to make those mistakes again.
And then the criticism actually hits.
Seriously?
That's what you think is wrong? What kind of a heathen are you? That's the deepest part, which clearly you are lacking the depth to understand. Did you grow up in a mud hut where your primary educator was a yak? I should have known better than to trust someone whose idea of an artistic experience is to argue with their little girlfriends over whether or not Twilight is high literature. You know what, if you don't like my art, go make your own, and then I'll watch and laugh because you're an amateur, and it'll suck. Then you'll see what my art is worth.
That may seem a little unreasonable, but really! This art is the brain child of the creator! Why don't they just take out a big, fat, butcher's knife and stab my first born baby while they're at it! They've already stabbed my heart which is now soaking my sleeve in hot, red blood while my work - my life - lies broken on the floor. Clearly, as an artist, I am just misunderstood. Maybe, like Emily Dickinson, I'll have to die before it's fully appreciated.
Welcome to the world of artistic criticism.
I've had enough of this to get used to it, and to learn how to tone down the "you are a Philistine" knee-jerk reaction, but I was amused to watch Michelle go through it last night. She knows its value - and admitted thankfully that the completed video for our FHE group (yay Oscars night!) was far better than before the tiny bit of critique, leading to extensive further editing, with which I had skewered her heart. Sting though it may, she has discovered the value of constructive criticism.
But, there are some things no artist should have to take.
For example, having the "producer" of the movie you are molding and shaping standing over your shoulder, telling you, "You missed a spot."
Maybe I should present a scenario to illustrate this point:
Michelle's mind: "Ooh! Brilliant! Heehee, this will be so funny!" *cue bursting with excitement in the wake of inspiration*
Producer: "What are you doing?! That's not what I had in mind! You're taking this in the wrong direction!"
Michelle's mind: *Utter deflation* "Oh. ... Grrrrrr...."
Seriously, this is just plain artistic sadism! If you're going to entrust your project to an artist, rather than do it yourself, you'd better be prepared to let that artist do her thing. Hinder creativity, and you'll get a crap job... partially because creativity is hindered, and partially because you'll infuriate your meal ticket... who therefore throws her hands up and says, "Whatever! Have it your way! Tell me what to do, and I'll click the buttons. Let's see YOUR mind come up with something better."
And for the record, the person telling the artist what to do can NEVER come up with something better. That's not just my artistic bias - that's real life experience talking there... I've been the "obnoxious director," and it just doesn't work.
So, this is the sad story of a young artist. Constructive Criticism - yeah. It doth stink. And yet, we continue to ask for it! Again, we bring out our work and ask those four terrible words: "What do you think?"
And, as always, we find out exactly what they think. And we fume... how dare they... and we get over it... and we realize that maybe, just maybe, they had a point that we might want to consider implementing. And sometimes, they do! Sometimes it's an awesome idea, and with a little tweaking, it's just what the project needed.
Michelle is discovering her artistic side. She always knew she liked editing movies and scrapbooking, but now that she's not drenching herself in stress from school and a new job (she's becoming an expert at the ancient art of preschooliyaki by now, a purple belt, I would say) she can invest much time and energy into being creative. She is also discovering the one thing no artist can avoid - criticism.
Artists love criticism. "Tell me what is wrong with my creation!" we cry. "Help me to improve my craft!"
That's right, we artists - we ask for it. We beg for it. We throw our work at people and ask them what they think, knowing they will find our little faults and help us not to make those mistakes again.
And then the criticism actually hits.
Seriously?
That's what you think is wrong? What kind of a heathen are you? That's the deepest part, which clearly you are lacking the depth to understand. Did you grow up in a mud hut where your primary educator was a yak? I should have known better than to trust someone whose idea of an artistic experience is to argue with their little girlfriends over whether or not Twilight is high literature. You know what, if you don't like my art, go make your own, and then I'll watch and laugh because you're an amateur, and it'll suck. Then you'll see what my art is worth.
That may seem a little unreasonable, but really! This art is the brain child of the creator! Why don't they just take out a big, fat, butcher's knife and stab my first born baby while they're at it! They've already stabbed my heart which is now soaking my sleeve in hot, red blood while my work - my life - lies broken on the floor. Clearly, as an artist, I am just misunderstood. Maybe, like Emily Dickinson, I'll have to die before it's fully appreciated.
Welcome to the world of artistic criticism.
I've had enough of this to get used to it, and to learn how to tone down the "you are a Philistine" knee-jerk reaction, but I was amused to watch Michelle go through it last night. She knows its value - and admitted thankfully that the completed video for our FHE group (yay Oscars night!) was far better than before the tiny bit of critique, leading to extensive further editing, with which I had skewered her heart. Sting though it may, she has discovered the value of constructive criticism.
But, there are some things no artist should have to take.
For example, having the "producer" of the movie you are molding and shaping standing over your shoulder, telling you, "You missed a spot."
Maybe I should present a scenario to illustrate this point:
Michelle's mind: "Ooh! Brilliant! Heehee, this will be so funny!" *cue bursting with excitement in the wake of inspiration*
Producer: "What are you doing?! That's not what I had in mind! You're taking this in the wrong direction!"
Michelle's mind: *Utter deflation* "Oh. ... Grrrrrr...."
Seriously, this is just plain artistic sadism! If you're going to entrust your project to an artist, rather than do it yourself, you'd better be prepared to let that artist do her thing. Hinder creativity, and you'll get a crap job... partially because creativity is hindered, and partially because you'll infuriate your meal ticket... who therefore throws her hands up and says, "Whatever! Have it your way! Tell me what to do, and I'll click the buttons. Let's see YOUR mind come up with something better."
And for the record, the person telling the artist what to do can NEVER come up with something better. That's not just my artistic bias - that's real life experience talking there... I've been the "obnoxious director," and it just doesn't work.
So, this is the sad story of a young artist. Constructive Criticism - yeah. It doth stink. And yet, we continue to ask for it! Again, we bring out our work and ask those four terrible words: "What do you think?"
And, as always, we find out exactly what they think. And we fume... how dare they... and we get over it... and we realize that maybe, just maybe, they had a point that we might want to consider implementing. And sometimes, they do! Sometimes it's an awesome idea, and with a little tweaking, it's just what the project needed.
Day 3 of My Festivities
Today I am grateful for:
1.Listing things I'm grateful for
2.Pickles that have yet to be pickled
3.Staying up till 2:30 am looking for a song my roommate can put on the movie she's making
4.No work on Thursdays
5.Having a forbidden, secret crush (and by secret I mean all of my close friends and family know about it, and know better than to tell said forbidden crush he exists)
6.Having an alternate, super-villain existence that includes a secret lair guarded by a ferocious attack-hippo
7.The fact that the number 7 can also be drawn as7 with a fancy line through it
8.The fact that I am posting about Kunkee, and he doesn't know it. BA HA HA!!! KUNKEEKUNKEEKUNKEE!!!! He doesn't know! Mua ha ha ha!!!
9.My very awkward 2-toilet bathroom situation that I no longer consider awkward, and has led to such endearing nicknames for roommates as "Bathroom Buddy," "Potty Pal," "Toilet Twin," and "Can Comrade."
10.Monique! She dropped by and gave me a hug! : )
1.Listing things I'm grateful for
2.Pickles that have yet to be pickled
3.Staying up till 2:30 am looking for a song my roommate can put on the movie she's making
4.No work on Thursdays
5.Having a forbidden, secret crush (and by secret I mean all of my close friends and family know about it, and know better than to tell said forbidden crush he exists)
6.Having an alternate, super-villain existence that includes a secret lair guarded by a ferocious attack-hippo
7.The fact that the number 7 can also be drawn as
8.The fact that I am posting about Kunkee, and he doesn't know it. BA HA HA!!! KUNKEEKUNKEEKUNKEE!!!! He doesn't know! Mua ha ha ha!!!
9.My very awkward 2-toilet bathroom situation that I no longer consider awkward, and has led to such endearing nicknames for roommates as "Bathroom Buddy," "Potty Pal," "Toilet Twin," and "Can Comrade."
10.Monique! She dropped by and gave me a hug! : )
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
On the 2nd Day of Thanksgiving
Okay, this morning I am grateful that:
1.The cleaning check lady's skin melted off, revealing that underneath she was made out of cupcakes and sugar sprinkles!
2.Despite the faint vacuum-sucked-up-too-much-hair-burnt-rubber smell, my apartment is absolutely sparkling!
3.There are snow flakes on my ceiling.
4.There are snow flakes in my heart. (cue: "Awwwww!")
5.The sun is shining! The tank is clean! *GASP* The tank is clean!
6.Actually, the tank really is clean.
7.Did I mention my apartment is clean?
8.My headphones are pink.
9.I'm about to go to class where I will sit next to a really cute boy who likes to flirt with me.
10.I ate a Rodeo Cheeseburger for lunch yesterday.
*Later*
11.The smell of leaves on the ground when you walk through them.
12.Hard classes end in 1 month.
13.Potatoes!
14.People who understand the if you're going to have a mustache, it had better either have handlebars, waxed tips, or a beard to go with it. Sorry, I don't care what your face looks like, the Adolf Hitler look just doesn't do it for me.
15.A realization! I'm taking Crusades next semester. I took history of Islam this semester, which included the Crusades in moderately deep detail. That class is going to be relatively easy! Yay!
16.Skittles
1.The cleaning check lady's skin melted off, revealing that underneath she was made out of cupcakes and sugar sprinkles!
2.Despite the faint vacuum-sucked-up-too-much-hair-burnt-rubber smell, my apartment is absolutely sparkling!
3.There are snow flakes on my ceiling.
4.There are snow flakes in my heart. (cue: "Awwwww!")
5.The sun is shining! The tank is clean! *GASP* The tank is clean!
6.Actually, the tank really is clean.
7.Did I mention my apartment is clean?
8.My headphones are pink.
9.I'm about to go to class where I will sit next to a really cute boy who likes to flirt with me.
10.I ate a Rodeo Cheeseburger for lunch yesterday.
*Later*
11.The smell of leaves on the ground when you walk through them.
12.Hard classes end in 1 month.
13.Potatoes!
14.People who understand the if you're going to have a mustache, it had better either have handlebars, waxed tips, or a beard to go with it. Sorry, I don't care what your face looks like, the Adolf Hitler look just doesn't do it for me.
15.A realization! I'm taking Crusades next semester. I took history of Islam this semester, which included the Crusades in moderately deep detail. That class is going to be relatively easy! Yay!
16.Skittles
Monday, November 8, 2010
In Honor of the Season
Thanksgiving is this month! No, not Christmas. Sorry, all you people who play Jingle Bell Rock the instant the sun sets on Halloween, but Christmas isn't until next month. I've always felt that Thanksgiving gets ripped off. November hits, and it's suddenly the season to be jolly, fa la la la la blah blah blah blah.
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not Scrooge. I love Christmas! I just wish poor Thanksgiving got a little more acknowledgment once in a while. Maybe, had a traditional way of celebrating it that lasted more than 1 day. You know, give Thanksgiving a season too.
So, I've decided I'm going to celebrate the 18 Days of Thanksgiving. It would have been more than 18 days, but I just barely thought of this brilliant idea (and yes, my idea is brilliant. If you don't agree with me, clearly your IQ can only be in the range of Forest Gump and Barbie) so I've gotta work with the time I've got left. Of course, as soon as Thanksgiving is out the door, Christmas can move on in!
So, to celebrate, every day I'm going to make a post on this blog of things I'm thankful for. I shall add to it throughout the day, editing the post as I think of more things, and not starting a new post until the next day.
So, Thankful #1:
1.Goats... and Stephanie.
2.Living in a time of space age technology. Really, cell phones. Whoda thunk it 50 years ago? Star Trek was science fiction, and we've already far exceeded their communication devices. Really, could THEIR communicators surf the internet and play itunes? I didn't think so.
3.Freshly cut pineapple. Yum.
4.The fact that I am taking BOOK BINDING of all the easy 3-credit classes I could possibly take.
5.The St. Patrick's Day banner that is not only hanging from the lamp in my apartment, but has the giant words, "KISS ME" written on it. I'm sorry, Green Banner, but I just don't feel that way about you.
6.Homework that still needs to be done. Oh... wait...
7.SOPHIE!!!!
8.Gingerbread cake that is going to get me through the homework I should be doing right now.
9.Clint Mansell
10.The possibility of maybe, just maybe, having an in to Brandon Sanderson's creative writing class.
*Later* (roughly 2:00 pm)
11.Even though I'm still in class, my homework is done and the quiz is taken.
12.I just had an epiphany about how much stress daily quizzes cause in my life. Now that I know that, I can learn to quit caring about my quiz scores!
13.I got a good grade on a paper in the class in which I got a D- on the first midterm. Those two grades averaged my grade to a C-, and with 3 more midterms and another paper, that grade promises to rise!
14.Breaded chicken sandwiches... which I am not currently eating... but are sitting in my freezer at home... O lunch! How I long for thee!
15.Tangents in class. Nothing like the teacher going off on something that doesn't matter to give you time to relax your tired brain... and blog during class.
16.Cheeseburgers, with barbecue sauce, bacon and onion rings... which I am also not eating.
17.Jamba Juice... which I am not drinking.
18.Subway. Guess what I'm not doing with that.
19.Chicken Nuggets.
20.Barbecue Brisket.
21.The fantasy of running out of class and driving straight to Burger King... or maybe Carl's Jr. Yeah, Carl's Jr. has bigger burgers.
Holy cow, my stomach is literally eating itself! I don't think all the delectable daydreams are helping my situation at all.
22.Alright, humble pie time. Despite all the effort I have invested into complaining about it, I AM thankful I am in my US history class, because even though I detest the way American history is taught these days, it's from 1815-1848, and is the exact time period in which my religion took root. When we're not talking about how the people stole lands from the Indians, oppressed slaves and exploited immigrants, we're learning about the environment in which Mormonism was founded, and it's incredible how much of the culture of the 1830's has been infused into LDS culture that lives on even to this day. It's very enlightening to understand the environment in which the church was founded, which explains things like polygamy and the failed "Zion" societies where they held all things in common. While those things are unheard of today, they were actually not too far out there for their time period, even and especially polygamy.
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not Scrooge. I love Christmas! I just wish poor Thanksgiving got a little more acknowledgment once in a while. Maybe, had a traditional way of celebrating it that lasted more than 1 day. You know, give Thanksgiving a season too.
So, I've decided I'm going to celebrate the 18 Days of Thanksgiving. It would have been more than 18 days, but I just barely thought of this brilliant idea (and yes, my idea is brilliant. If you don't agree with me, clearly your IQ can only be in the range of Forest Gump and Barbie) so I've gotta work with the time I've got left. Of course, as soon as Thanksgiving is out the door, Christmas can move on in!
So, to celebrate, every day I'm going to make a post on this blog of things I'm thankful for. I shall add to it throughout the day, editing the post as I think of more things, and not starting a new post until the next day.
So, Thankful #1:
1.Goats... and Stephanie.
2.Living in a time of space age technology. Really, cell phones. Whoda thunk it 50 years ago? Star Trek was science fiction, and we've already far exceeded their communication devices. Really, could THEIR communicators surf the internet and play itunes? I didn't think so.
3.Freshly cut pineapple. Yum.
4.The fact that I am taking BOOK BINDING of all the easy 3-credit classes I could possibly take.
5.The St. Patrick's Day banner that is not only hanging from the lamp in my apartment, but has the giant words, "KISS ME" written on it. I'm sorry, Green Banner, but I just don't feel that way about you.
6.Homework that still needs to be done. Oh... wait...
7.SOPHIE!!!!
8.Gingerbread cake that is going to get me through the homework I should be doing right now.
9.Clint Mansell
10.The possibility of maybe, just maybe, having an in to Brandon Sanderson's creative writing class.
*Later* (roughly 2:00 pm)
11.Even though I'm still in class, my homework is done and the quiz is taken.
12.I just had an epiphany about how much stress daily quizzes cause in my life. Now that I know that, I can learn to quit caring about my quiz scores!
13.I got a good grade on a paper in the class in which I got a D- on the first midterm. Those two grades averaged my grade to a C-, and with 3 more midterms and another paper, that grade promises to rise!
14.Breaded chicken sandwiches... which I am not currently eating... but are sitting in my freezer at home... O lunch! How I long for thee!
15.Tangents in class. Nothing like the teacher going off on something that doesn't matter to give you time to relax your tired brain... and blog during class.
16.Cheeseburgers, with barbecue sauce, bacon and onion rings... which I am also not eating.
17.Jamba Juice... which I am not drinking.
18.Subway. Guess what I'm not doing with that.
19.Chicken Nuggets.
20.Barbecue Brisket.
21.The fantasy of running out of class and driving straight to Burger King... or maybe Carl's Jr. Yeah, Carl's Jr. has bigger burgers.
Holy cow, my stomach is literally eating itself! I don't think all the delectable daydreams are helping my situation at all.
22.Alright, humble pie time. Despite all the effort I have invested into complaining about it, I AM thankful I am in my US history class, because even though I detest the way American history is taught these days, it's from 1815-1848, and is the exact time period in which my religion took root. When we're not talking about how the people stole lands from the Indians, oppressed slaves and exploited immigrants, we're learning about the environment in which Mormonism was founded, and it's incredible how much of the culture of the 1830's has been infused into LDS culture that lives on even to this day. It's very enlightening to understand the environment in which the church was founded, which explains things like polygamy and the failed "Zion" societies where they held all things in common. While those things are unheard of today, they were actually not too far out there for their time period, even and especially polygamy.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Your Mom Goes to College
So, one of my best friend's mom died, just a couple of weeks ago. She had cancer, and it was incredibly sad. We've all done everything we can to help my friend, including showering him with love, affection, and food.
A couple days ago, he was over at my apartment, being fed lasagna, courtesy of Aubry. I was making out my shopping list, and attempting to rally my roommates who needed to go to the store.
"I'm going to the store!" I announced, for the general public to hear.
"Kunkee, do you need to go to the store?"
"I just need milk."
"Okay, give me cash and I'll get you milk. Michelle, do you need to go to the store?"
"No."
"Lynnae, do you need to go to the store?"
"Yes."
"Aubry, do you need to go to the store?"
"No."
"Last call, who needs to go to the store?"
My friend then piped up from behind his lasagna, "Your face needs to go to the store."
And, of course, I said the first thing that popped into my head. "Your mom needs to go to the ---"
**GASP**
Oops.
Social faux pas of the century.
And he's still making fun of me for it.
The moral of this story is:
When you make a "your mom" joke, please make sure the subject's mom isn't dead.
Oh, and since we're on the topic of "your mom" jokes, please remember, they don't work on your siblings... unless they're half siblings who share a father with you... and that's just mean.
A couple days ago, he was over at my apartment, being fed lasagna, courtesy of Aubry. I was making out my shopping list, and attempting to rally my roommates who needed to go to the store.
"I'm going to the store!" I announced, for the general public to hear.
"Kunkee, do you need to go to the store?"
"I just need milk."
"Okay, give me cash and I'll get you milk. Michelle, do you need to go to the store?"
"No."
"Lynnae, do you need to go to the store?"
"Yes."
"Aubry, do you need to go to the store?"
"No."
"Last call, who needs to go to the store?"
My friend then piped up from behind his lasagna, "Your face needs to go to the store."
And, of course, I said the first thing that popped into my head. "Your mom needs to go to the ---"
**GASP**
Oops.
Social faux pas of the century.
And he's still making fun of me for it.
The moral of this story is:
When you make a "your mom" joke, please make sure the subject's mom isn't dead.
Oh, and since we're on the topic of "your mom" jokes, please remember, they don't work on your siblings... unless they're half siblings who share a father with you... and that's just mean.
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