Busy Work of Death

This is known as The chair. By Hans Wegner. I like it, but its maybe not The chair. y'know.

The busy-work of death assignment--at least thats what I call it. So one of my projects this semester was to create a "Catalog of classic modern interiors, furniture, and architecture". Wow. But it gets better. The project description was 65 two-page spreads, left side is a write up and right side is a picture. That is 65 write-ups, and 65 pictures for a grand total of 130 pages. It took approximately 50 hours to finish, which for me is kind of a lot. But wait. There's more. My teacher actually laid out exactly what 65 things that she wanted. And told us what she wanted it to look like. I mean, I'm all for getting what you ask for, but really? I feel like she thinks we're five. Also I basically just parroted a combination of lecture and wikipedia. Which seems a bit like a waste of time to me. Especially since after looking at her PowerPoints and reading online, I have realized that she copies her lectures word for word from online. Hence the name. Busy work of death.

But at least its turned in. Now is the part where we let the chips fall where they may.

Bah.

Making your life better since...2009

So as you may (or most likely may not) have noticed, I haven't exactly updated my blog lately. There are multiple reasons for this treachery, including, but not limited to:

My life is really busy. Really.

I'm not thinking any new thoughts.

I have no new insights.

Nothing new is happening in my life. Just the same old busy stuff.

I stopped being inspired.

In summary, no one wants to hear me complain about the same things over and over. Just because I'm freaking out about life doesn't mean that everyone else needs to suffer. So, just to recap:

I don't hate you, or even blogging, I'm just thinking about the same things all the time and don't want to annoy people for rehashing it.* So, now that you realize the marvelous gift I have bestowed on you, feel free to be grateful. Just me, y'know, making your life better.

*Also, an apology to C and to my poor mother, who I have not ceased rehashing life to.

These Happy Golden Years

So last weekend, C checked those books out at the library (they were out of "Weeds of the West" see, and she needed suitable back-up). I realized that I haven't read the adventures of Laura Ingalls in probably close to a decade. I ate them up. And I always forget how expressive of a reader I am. I go from my little half-smile, to grinning, all the way to breaking down in sobs in not very much time at all. Squealing happens also. It was kind of an adventure for my roommates who had never seen me read a for-fun book before.

So the moral of the story is, that I definitely should have been living way-back-when ago. I'm reasonably certain that it would have been a lot more conducive to my personality. And life perspective. But alas, I am a woman of the 21st century. So I'll have to struggle through the mire of wearing pants. And being able to work. And getting paid. It's so inconvenient that now we have to go to college, get an education. Bah. Not to mention voting... I mean who wants to do that? Getting all politically involved and all. Next thing you know, my family is going to be a band, going to the democratic convention to get Grover Cleveland re-elected (again).

Also, I've sort of been realizing lately just how grumpy I've been. I feel bad. Every time I talk to my poor parents it's complaining about how I don't know what I'm doing with my life. While valid, it doesn't mean I need to bring it up all the time. I think it's just that I've been so busy, that I don't have time to do or think about anything other than my unplanned life. So, since it's the only thing on my mind, it's basically the only thing I can talk about.

But you know what? Right now really is these happy golden years. Just because I'm sleepy, and grumpy (and dopey, sneezey, bashful, happy, and ... doc) more than half the time, doesn't mean that there aren't great, wonderful, fabulous things going on all the time. Even just regular things. Like my family. They're wonderful. Beyond. And C? She's there for me basically always. Work is great, it loves me and I love it. I'm learning lots of interesting things in class. My religion professor is an Egyptologist (which kind of brings me full circle to 3rd grade). I have friends everywhere I go. I have people who are concerned about me, and people who are looking out for me. I'm super lucky. I mean, the test questions on exams that happen to be things I already knew when I didn't have time to study? Like geography. They throw an essay question asking me to analyze the differences between different types of religious Architecture in Europe. Basically the luckiest person ever. Not to mention my Bishop. He's also pretty much my therapist. I get to watch my nephews and niece grow up--and they're amazingly cute. I have scriptures. I get to learn. Did you know that learning is one of my most favorite things? I get to do it all the time here! I get to travel, make plans, make friendships, make time, make food, make mistakes! Life is golden, I need to enjoy it while I can and stop waiting for the next part of my life to begin. "You pile up enough tomorrows, and you’ll find you’ve collected a lot of empty yesterdays." - Professor Harold Hill

"Day by day, minute by minute, second by second we went from where we were to where we are now ...Time never stands still; it must steadily march on, and with the marching come the changes.

This is our one and only chance at mortal life—here and now. The longer we live, the greater is our realization that it is brief. Opportunities come, and then they are gone. I believe that among the greatest lessons we are to learn in this short sojourn upon the earth are lessons that help us distinguish between what is important and what is not. I plead with you not to let those most important things pass you by as you plan for that illusive and nonexistent future when you will have time to do all that you want to do. Instead, find joy in the journey—now." - TSM

Be grateful for what I have while I have it. Enjoy everything. Love life.

The Pirate Movie

I'm starting a new segment on my blog. Every now and again I'm going to spotlight a cultural gem. This week's is a movie called "The Pirate Movie"... I kid you not.

The rich fantasy world of a shy and awkward young girl, Mabel (Kristy McNichol), comes to vivid life after she meets the handsome Frederic (Christopher Atkins). In her fantasy, Frederic must save Mabel from a band of pirates. This delightfully campy '80s update of the timeless classic "The Pirates of Penzance" by Gilbert & Sullivan is packed with all-new songs and over-the-top fun.

Lets break this down. Mabel. That was her first mistake. My number one goal as a parent is to not name any of my children Mabel. Especially the boys. See, I like to make at least one of my goals very, very attainable. That way I feel like a winner. I succeed. Also, by succeeding at this goal I can decrease the probability of having a a daughter who is both shy and awkward.

Next, over-the-top fun. Who wants their fun to be over the top? Who says, "Hey man! That was over the top!" And really means this in a positive? Usually it's more like, "hey man, that was over the top... tone it down." And then you have to be all, "oh, I didn't realize. I'll keep it down." Over-the-top...

Now, usually I only recommend books I've read or movies I've seen. But I felt in this case I would make an exception. After all, Netflix puts it in the category of "Goofy Action & Adventure" along with such classics* as The mask, Around the world in 80 days, Surf Ninjas, and Last Action Hero. Which sounded like basically the best commendation to me. (If you liked this category, please be sure to explore other made up compound genres such as Critically-acclaimed Suspenseful Sci-fi & Fantasy, Witty Wedding Comedies, and ... Dramas starring Robert Redford).

*Please be sure when reading the word "classic" you hear "item of nostalgia, that while completely outdated, you love for the simple reason that it reminds you of your childhood/first relationship/first car etc"

Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Week

Well, I can't say that it was all bad. I mean, I did lots of sleeping, lots of giggling, watched more movies than I'm going to count, and didn't do a stitch of homework the entire week. Also I drank two gallons of orange juice over 3 days. Thats a lot of OJ. Between getting home form work tuesday night, I didn't leave the apartment again until friday afternoon to go briefly to the testing center. Wednesday I didn't really even leave my bedroom.

It's called the flu, see. It starts the first morning with a sore throat and terrible aching joints. By the end of the first day you're delirious with fever and your muscles feel like jello. Day two is the eye of the storm. The worst of the fever is gone, but now there's that residual that goes between chills and being way too hot. And the smokers cough. I can do a smoker's cough like nobody's business. You feel somehow that getting up to answer the door is too much energy. Really the only coherent thoughts are for orange juice and sleep. In the mean time, netflix is on in the background. Mostly because it takes you forever to fall asleep, and you go crazy sitting still with nothing to occupy your brain. Unfortunately, the flu gives you ADD. You can't even handle watching short animated movies for children. The plots moves too slowly, you're bored with a scene before it even starts. You watch the first 7 minutes of lots of things. And lots of things all the way through with your eyes closed. Closed eyes help the brain to focus in these trying times.

Thursday night you may be lucky enough to get a text message letting you know that someone from your group from two years ago is dead. And you're sad, not so much for your loss, you move on, you always do, but you're sad for his loss. So many things that won't happen for him. But he sure knew how to live. Life was something that never just passed by for him. He wasn't just waiting until the 'next thing'; every moment was an experience. And you didn't shed a tear. You wanted to. Tried even. But it just wouldn't come, and for the master crier, thats sort of a bit odd. But crying wasn't right for him.

It's just another moment. Experience it.

Always another Rainbow

So, lately I seem to have lost my zeal for blogging. Not that I haven't had things going on in my life, in fact, the problem is more of the opposite, too many things are happening. I can't keep up.

Last week as I left my class I came out to a perfectly crisp, half circle, seven color rainbow... that ended right above jamba juice. Quality advertising? I think so.

Rainbows never cease to remind me that life is wonderful and I should be happy to be in it.

(ummm. How is this not the radest thing you've ever seen?)

A confrontation is coming. I've been avoiding it rather successfully for the last almost 3 years but next week, two days before Halloween, it will come to a head. We will all see each other again. Maybe it will be good. Maybe I can get the closure I've always wanted. Maybe also it will go horribly horribly wrong.

But you know what? Storms happen sometimes. And I always love it when they do. Something about impending destruction is exciting and enthralling. And sometimes after storms, there are rainbows. So, basically what we learned is that I'm going to stress myself to no end leading up to the event, be worried sick through the whole thing, and afterwards I'll probably feel relieved. Good day for everyone. Because you know what? All this will permanently convince me that he really is a jerk and I don't need to worry about it anymore. Because he is. And I don't. So... good day for everyone.

Also I need a costume. Hallowe'en is hard.

Viva Las Vegas

...and other such nonsense.

(The plaque outside one of the resorts, a restaurant)

I got back last night from my first time in sin city. Wow. What an experience. I've never been anywhere that palm trees can grow naturally, let alone thrive. And everyone was super... friendly(please read drunk). I did a few cool things while I was there, but most of it I spent inside the hotel at an interior plants conference. I'm pretty sure my favorite part is when the chatty people in the elevators would comment on what a good BYU girl was doing in this place. I got to tell everyone I was here for a plant conference and I got some pretty good looks and laughs.

For the most part I spent my time at the conference: helping people find their way, passing out surveys and taking tallies, helping exhibitors set up (and take down) their displays, and networking with the participants.

(so, I guess I practically went to Europe, just for a lot cheaper, and kind of fake looking)

One night after the conference activities of the day we went walking up and down the strip and taking pictures. We spent a lot of time in the Bellagio looking at the interior gardens. We also watched the fountains through a few performances.

Thursday morning we got a private tour of the Wynn and Encore. They're pretty cool, not gonna lie. The tour guide knew we were hort students so we looked at all the plants and the backstaging areas for the plants. Which was cool, but I would have like to spend more time on the interior decorating, which was absolutely fantastic! (In the sense that it was grandiose and unbelievable, rather than perfectly suited to my taste) It was really interesting for about the first hour. It was the next hour and a half of pointing out the same features repeatedly at 6 in the morning that became a little bit tedious. But I still took about a bajillion and a half pictures. I seem to do that: I either take none, or six hundred. I also have a tendency to have no people in my pictures. Whoops.

(the whole atrium was filled with these chandelier things that slowly twisted up and down)

Our last night we went to Blue Man Group. Originally I had wanted to go to either Phantom or the Lion King and was a bit disappointed about our tickets--but oh my goodness I was glad we went. I had no idea it was going to be so funny! And then afterwards we got to take pictures with them, which was also kind of fun.

I was worried, to put it mildly, because the trip was more expensive than I probably would have said it was worth. I also didn't think I would be quite social enough to make the networking opportunity worth the money. I now have a list of about six companies that are waiting for my resume and another that wants to put me in touch with an interior architect. Plus I got five more plants. All in all I think I came off for the better.

A Brand New Day

So, sometimes when we least expect it, we get the help we've been looking for. Maybe it wasn't the answer we wanted, or even really an answer. But sometimes He just changes your perspective, and somehow it doesn't matter as much anymore.

The Neverending Story... part 7

So its finally happened. I have had my last first day of school. I was so busy this summer I didn't even have time to worry needlessly about my classes. But don't worry, I'm catching up. I have all kinds of new stresses to think about.

It's going to be an interesting year indeed. In between breaking in brand new roommates, crazy new classes, and a calling that's actually more gently used, I have had the extraordinary pleasure of that minor issue called figuring out my life.

I've considered a mission. I've never really felt like that's where my immediate future lies. But I'm leaving my mind open to the possibility.

Get a second degree at BYU. In what? International cultures? As awesome as being a cultural consultant for the government sounds, I don't think it really fits with the lifestyle I want for myself in the long run. The only other thing that sounds interesting is the history of art and architecture (which we don't actually have here). Yeah. Thats marketable. The only thing I could do with that is be a curator at some museum... which all kidding aside actually sounds kind of fun.

I've thought about being done with school and going to work. I don't know how I feel about that. I don't think I feel ready to work in the field.

Law school. I'm not going to lie. Law school has been an idea in the back of my head since about the fifth grade. While on the one hand there are a lot of aspects of the field that appeal to me, such as the need to be able to see all sides of an issue and argue any of them effectively, I don't know if I want to have the personality I would need to excel in the courtroom. And again that whole "doesn't fit with my desired lifestyle."

I can be one of those people who is "working in Provo." Which, since I'm morally opposed to it isn't actually an option, but I thought I would mention it anyway for fairness' sake.

Finally is Grad school. Which would actually make this not my last first day. Really it seems like the only viable option. Sadly instead of giving me that "hah! I know what I'm doing!" feeling, it's more of a defeatist "well, I guess if that's the only choice..." I've been talking to a few professors about it. One recommended a masters in Interiors or Interior Architecture which I admit I liked quite a bit. Another professor made real world application suggestions; which I liked significantly less. I think my problem is that while I love the idea of studying something, or even doing something in theory, when it comes down to it I'm just plain scared. I'm afraid of teaching community college courses while getting my MFA. So many lesson plans. What would I even talk about? And even getting the MFA: so many classes that I could fail in. So many projects that would prove I'm not the absolute best at what I do. Lets be perfectly frank, I am completely aware that I neither am, nor need to be the best at what I do; but it would be nice to at least be able to succeed.

So then what if I begin to operate on the assumption of grad school attendance. After all, fear of failure isn't exactly a good enough reason to not do something. In fact, it's one of the very worst reasons. Then I have to begin to consider things like location, location, location. Also money and time. But I guess those are negligible. There are so many factors to explore that I almost don't even know where to start. I would love to go to school in New England. I would be immersed in the architecture I love. That would be rad. It would be expensive, but frankly everywhere is expensive. What's the difference between 80 and 100 thousand in debt? This is the question I ask myself. And besides, as we already discussed money is negligible... right?

Okay false. Especially since I have a hard time convincing myself that it's okay to invest all of this capital in a career that ultimately I don't really want in the long run.

Oh bah.

According to my research

This post was inspired by a conversation between C and I, and kind of evolved from there.

Cinderella was wrong or at the very least she was completely deluded.

We have been instructed by Disney that all it takes for a "happily ever after, the end" is one moment of bliss. One moment to tell you what your rest of forever will be about. That it will redefine every aspect of you and change you. After that, you appear to be set for life. But people don't fall in love in a single moment. Perhaps they may realize in a moment, but that isn't the same thing. At least not really. Not that true and everlasting love that you need to cope through life. Instead, I submit to you that love is like everything else worth having and that it comes by degrees.

Statistically speaking, we know that the observed relationship between two objects becomes more accurate the more events that are studied. For instance, if you flip a coin twice it is perfectly possible that it will land on heads both times. However, the more times you flip it, the more likely you are to have 50% heads, 50% tails. Thus with repeated trials, results become increasingly more accurate. In much the same way, I think that a true love is formed, whether we realize it or not, with the occurence of multiple events; and the more moments that happen the more likely it is that the perceived result is accurate. And therefore more statistically significant.

In the same vein, I think we do have happily ever afters. However, not the carriage driving off into the sunset ever afters; more like the reality ever afters. I mean have you ever noticed that movies and books don't ever document what happens after the wedding? No one wants to watch everyday struggles, or everyday bliss. We want to hold on to the illusion that people really only have lives of only happiness for the rest of forever. But that's boring.  What people really want (and get) is drama. They like blood, sweat, and tears. No one thinks they want to watch a story about a couple who marry, practically starve themselves to get through college, and raise four girls who eventually marry and have children of their own. To the outsider there is no excitement, no drama (although let me tell you that in a house with four girls there is plenty of drama), and even though they have sad times, they still have a happily ever after. Life doesn't have to be happy all of the time to come out happy in the end.

And although the story of this family isn't television-worthy, the members of this family remember when daughter #1 got married, when the first grandkid was born, when one girl graduated, when one girl won sporting events. They remember crying as they talked to their parents to get through those tough high school years, and crying more when they had to leave out into that great wide world. And eventually all four of these girls will look back when these two great people are gone and tell their families about times they went camping, or just riding bikes, times when they went out to dinner, and times when they sat around the dinner table discussing life and the eternities for hours. And they will have these same moments with their girls and boys. And the world will move on, never noticing the contribution and quiet lives of everyday people. But these people have their happily ever after; because in the end they won't remember what those tears are about, just that they felt comforted and loved by their family. And that couple doesn't remember minor disagreements, they remember feeling united as they worked together. John Gottman, one of the world's leading experts in marriage and relationship research agrees that when couples have rough times but work through it, when followed up with five years later they relationship is always stronger than it ever had been. Thats a happily ever after.

So, despite Disney's best efforts to convince otherwise I submit to you that people fall in love over time, after the compilation of many moments, and that their happily ever after is the average of happy and sad through life. That happy moments are actually more common than the sad ones.  And that in the strongest relationships, the sad times can inspire the happy ones.

And yes. I just mathematically proved that love at first sight is false. I just really am that cool.

Star Sightings

Featuring Julianne Moore and Michael Phelps. Caption: "Where another world is just a wish away"

The Walt Disney Company has commissioned Annie Leibovitz (Photographer of the stars) to do a series* where famous people are portrayed as disney characters as part of the Disney Year of a Million Dreams. While they are advertisements, I don't think the artistic value of the shots can be easily discounted.

Some argue that photos should be natural, or "candid"; but Leibovitz' gift lies in another realm. She has the ability to create a shot. She studies her subjects and their photographs and plans the perfect setting for them. In the above shot, I think my favorite part is that she took the picture underwater. One thing that is really interesting about her portraits is she tries to make them as seemingly "natural" as possible, perhaps to counter the staged effect that can occur in a planned photo. Natural in this case referring to au naturel. She is the artist behind infamous photos such as Lennon and Ono on the cover of Rolling Stone, Pregnant Demi Moore, and most recently the spread of Miley Cyrus in Vogue. She has also been responsible for timeless portraits, like for the Queen of England.

I think her greatest ability is in the use of light. She uses it to both focus the viewing of the portrait, and to add emphasis. All of her shots are designed to be dramatic, a little bit epic, and breath-taking.

In other news, I still haven't seen a single star while I've been in Alaska. And it can't be because I sleep through the stars, because I'm not asleep for that long every night. It's sort of weird for me. Stars have always been comforting for me. They give constancy and stability. They are the anchor of the night. Which is sort of ironic considering they give the appearance of moving. But for some reason, when I look out at night and see the stars beaming brightly back at me I think of how small they are compared to vast ocean of space. And they don't get discouraged as they fight against the darkness, they just keep doing their own little bit to combat it. But that little bit makes all the difference, because the light always wins. So I'm looking forward to seeing my old friend Orion again soon.

*Find the other parts of the Disney series go here or here; my favorites are Prince Phillip, and Peter Pan

It's electric!

So, according to my mother when I get excited I have a "certain spark" in my voice. And apparently it's the same spark if I'm telling her about fishing or talking about a boy... so I don't know exactly what that says about me, but it is what it is. In honor of this spark, we're going to talk about things that electrify.

The fourth was a blast of a weekend. It started with a five hour drive to Homer, and you know how I love a good road trip. I can literally be completely entertained by looking out the window for hours on end--everything is just so beautiful! Even in Wyoming. I spent most of the day on a halibut charter, I caught the limit, including the biggest one any of us caught that day! So now I have a freezer full of halibut. In the mean time I got to hang out with the majority of my favorite alaska people--basically an amazing weekend. Someone had a friend on the show wipeout, so we had to watch and cheer them on while we ate halibut--the friend won. I'm not gonna lie, that show is way entertaining. Especially when you have someone to cheer for.

Now my "wildlife sightings in Alaska" count is thus:

>15 bald eagles

8 moose

2 whales

1 gold eagle

1 loon

1 Porcupine

1 lynx

1 Puffin

I also saw Mt Redoubt smoking it's top off... which isn't technically wildlife, but it is nature

... still no bears, wolves, or mountain goats but I'm keeping a sharp eye on the horizon.

"All of my favorite hot famous men are either old or dead."  So I have said many times. This last week I decided I was in the mood for nostalgia and so I watched The Great Escape, The Magnificent Seven, Breakfast at Tiffany's, and really wanted to watch something with Cary Grant, Rock Hudson, Paul Newman, or Robert Redford. Just in case anyone is wondering, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid will be on AMC on the 24th. I'm totally watching it. I had to have a moment of silence the other day when I realized that the redford is 73. Don't get me wrong, he's a very attract 73, but he's no Gatsby anymore if you know what I mean.

This past weekend was YSA regional conference. I guess it was electric. We did the electric slide. And I danced with a boy... or the boy as it were. Boys are often electric :) And after game night last night we've decided we're friends. Which is good. I like starting as friends.

A few weeks ago it was my friends birthday so J and I made her a dragon cake. It was basically amazing. I think my contributions were showing him how to grease the pan, frosting, and creative consultant :) Dragon cakes shoot off tons of sparks.

Take me out to the ball game

What's this? Two posts in the same week?! Le gasp!

Have you ever noticed that when someone mentions a ball game or a ball park, they are only ever talking about baseball? Weird no? Why is that when there are all kinds of sports that use a ball. Like football, or basketball, or... futbol...

(These borders are real for seven months a year. From opening day to the World Series. The majority of people of each country pledge their allegiance to the team shown regardless of placement in the standings, questionable trades, draft picks, pitching rotations, uniform redesigns, or mascot behavior; and these lines will stay true until the citizens of each country vote to redraw the borders for next season.)

Anyway, I love the Fourth of July. It's like the ultimate American holiday. Not only is there that whole freedom thing (which I admit I kind of love a lot despite the jazzy line I throw out), but you can celebrate with a veritable cornucopia of summer related all-American activites that are best enjoyed on this day of all days.

Backyard Barbecues

Basically the best way to have dinner. With some it's steak and asparagus, others fried chicken and potato salad, some have hamburgers and chips, or fish and baby reds. Either way I don't think you can go wrong. The most important element to the backyard barbecue, other than the neighborhood dog, seems to be that someone's crazy uncle is always invited. We don't know who he is, or why he is there, but somehow he always manages to show up.

(see also: garden party, clam bake, fish fry, pool party, picnic)

Hammocks

There's that part of the day when the sun is hot, and everyone gets quiet and still. The best thing to do then? Get a glass of pink lemonade and a good book and swing in a hammock. Whether you read it or just take a nap is optional, but it needs to be there just in case. Because is there anything more American than taking a nap?

Driving in a Pick-up

You've had a long day. What better way to end it than sitting in the middle of a pick up blasting country music on your way to the park to watch fireworks? Granted I think I have a better show just sitting on my lawn than anything else I've ever seen--the benefits of your town being next to an indian reservation.

Alternate activites--For those who want to be slightly less generic: Croquet, camping, fishing, eating, horseback riding, and watching baseball games can all be fun... and I'm hard pressed to really think of anything else that is an acceptable alternative

So enjoy the day off of delight and goodness... and... eat apple pie?

Oh boy...

Oh boys is right.

I love the drama in my apartment. Mostly because it is wholly and completely unrelated to me. So I get to observe as a third-party bystander with absolutely no interest in the matter. It also means that I get to laugh a lot. Between two of my roommates they have gone through 6 boys in the last six weeks. And by gone through I mean had full on relationship status and ended it. Don't worry J--I'm flirting up a storm but avoiding the drama.

Most of my weeks here are following the same pattern:

Monday: after work I go to fhe, followed by some sort of outdoor activity, and then we have a grocery store party! Then I usually end up hanging out next door until I'm so exhausted that I fall asleep before my head hits the pillow.

Tuesday: we never start out with plans, but something always ends up happening. Last week we went to the midnight showing of transformers, so that took up basically the whole night plus some.

Wednesday: park night! This is where I get to show off my way awesome ultimate skills--and sometimes I just don't want the others to feel bad so I just stand in the middle of the field and make like an obstacle course.

Thursday is another night with no pre-set plans. Often M and I will go to the park and swing for kind of a long time actually. Sometimes we just have a movie night.

Friday: this is our go out on the town night. Sometimes dinner, sometimes a movie, sometimes ice cream parties that leave our freezer stocked for the next month.

Saturday: I have the day off and to myself which is amazing, not gonna lie. I start out by laundering, and then clean the apartment from top to bottom. Then I read, or sit at the park until everyone else gets home. Often Sat nights we go on hikes--and they are amazing! I love the hikes here even if I have to take a lot of breaks to get to the top :)

Sunday morning is the breakfast club. Always some sort of potluck. Last time I made aebelskiver. After church I call my parents, and then we have game night and usually a campfire and make s'mores.

(For those not initiated in the finer things)

Party, I know. I'm actually really loving it (so C can stop worring about how she dragged me here and that I hate it) and I'm just waiting for the next adventure. This weekend I might go on a halibut charter. Just because I can.

Party Like a Rockstar

So at work I have a boss. He's pretty cool. He can also drink a rockstar like nobody's business. Since I use his office, and by use his office I mean he doesn't, I have grown pretty used to the dozens of rockstar cans lying about. After about two weeks of feeling light headed in the office I finally realized the source of the problem. Rockstar smells like a combination of sour candy and a headache.

In other news, I went to the anchorage museum today. A local dazzled me with his knowledge of Alaskan (and fishing) history, while I just asked a bajillion of questions. Because frankly that is what I do. I don't care what the answers are, I just need to know them. I love learning. And I don't really care what it's about, I just want to know everything.

Close Encounters of the Moose-Kind

Okay, I know I disappeared... blah blah blah. I would apologize, but frankly I don't think I will.

So when I told everyone I was going to Alaska this summer the top three comments were about:

1. Being defeated by a moose

2. Driving a tour bus

3. Working on a fishing boat

Now I feel like it's time to address those concerns. First, working on a fishing boat. Okay really? As much as I love seafood and genuinely enjoy fishing can you really imagine me taking a job on a fishing boat unless I really couldn't find anything else anywhere? And driving a tour bus. It's true I do love to drive. But I don't exactly know the area well. And people don't generally hire an out-of-towner to show tourists around. And the Moose. I admit I thought people were exaggerating. I have now been in Alaska for three weeks, and I have seen 5 moosen*. All walking down the street--with the exception of one renegade who was feasting on my neighbors lilacs. In fact, the question I get more than any other at the nursery is about which plants are moose-proof. I can honestly say that it never occured to me that there were enough moose anywhere to constitute that concern.

I actually kind of love it here. Solstice isn't for another month but it's never night. Everything takes a while. Sunset, which is always gorgeous by the way, will be two hours long. Then the four hour dusk just goes straight to dawn. It's like there really is no night. I thought I would be able to see all kinds of stars while I was here, but it never gets dark enough! And you definitely can't see the northern lights, which I admit I am a little bit sad about. Maybe by the middle of august it will be dark enough. Trippy.

I have never played more ultimate frisbee in my entire life combined than I have in the last three weeks. It's like the people up here were born with disks in their hands. I like it a lot more than I used to. I think all the practice has helped :)

I have now hiked Alaska. It was actually kind of amazing. And the view was so worth it. When I'm home I think I'll post some pictures. I saw a porcupine! I had no idea they were that big! And so pokey. I also found some people to take me shooting which I'm a little bit ridiculously excited for. We have a friend who has promised to take us four-wheeling and fishing. C and I even found some poor guy to play euchre with us on sundays (even if he is an aggie).

Bonfires, barbecues, and Brian Regan* are kind of taking up the rest of my time. So life is pretty good right now.

North to Alaska

I thought that there couldn't be anything better than shopping fate, but I submit to you that there can! It's call Internship fate. And it is serendipitous.

So I've been stressing about what to do this summer. I planned on staying in Provo and working both in my computer lab and getting a job on grounds. I have to have either an internship or a grounds practicum or I won't get my landscape minor. So I was worrying about that.

Then when Caresse went to Career Days in California she went to an internship fair. She got offered several including one in Alaska. As she came home and we started talking about it, it sounded more and more exciting. So when she was talking to the guy from the company she mentioned her landscape minor roommate who thought this would be an awesome opportunity. He said they had extended all the offers they had, but if I didn't mind working inside they might have an opportunity.

Um, mind? Have I ever mentioned that its like, my ultimate goal to be some CEO's personal assistant? So I gave him a call and we chatted and he told me the position would be as an assistant to the guy in charge and that I would be in charge of scheduling for the company, particularly as it relates to bidding. So I was super excited. And he was happy too because I have a landscape background and I've worked in a computer lab for the last three years. So he extended the offer and I accepted.

I'll be heading there about the first week of May and I'll be back in Provo the end of August. Rent and all utilities for a fully furnished apartment is going to be 150 a month. They are providing a car and I will make way more money than I will here in Provo.


I have wanted to go to Alaska since I was in the second grade and we studied the Iditarod. There are going to be so many fun outdoor things to do! I'll get to see the Northern Lights, and the 24 hrs of sunlight are going to be fabulous! There are going to be like 10 of us from the Y going so I think it will be fun!

Time in a Bottle

I'll take a lifetime supply. I would also like the directions on the back to read:

Unscrew lid.

Enjoy 3 hours of additional time.

Please recycle.

I've realized recently that as time goes on, the faster it seems to move. I remember in Elementary school when we would have summer vacation and it would seem years long. Yet these last three months have disappeared in no time at all. Perhaps it is because as we age the proportion of any given time with the length of life we have enjoyed gets smaller and smaller. So the time seems to go faster and faster. Or maybe it's because when we get older and have more responsibilities we have more benchmarks of time. It goes quickly because we dread that deadline in late April, and thinking of the deadline makes us remember that we have a family function the week after that, and when we get home it's just in time for another deadline; and so on until all of a sudden you're anticipating the middle of September and letting your life race past you without so much as a tip of the hat.

It makes life just a little bit less meaningful. Slow down. Enjoy the weather. Enjoy your friends. Enjoy the sky and the landscape (or cityscape) around you. Think of others first. Stop dreading life. Reminisce.

Take chances! Make mistakes! Watch... the magic school bus?

Elementary my dear Watson!

So, there has been this mysterious smell roaming Provo. For those of you who don't remember I talked about the plague here. After some observations, a little bit of luck, and a whole lot of interpolation, I think I have discovered the source.

You see first, we know that the smell began in winter, presumably when the weather became colder. This deduction was reinforced when the smell disappeared as the weather became warmer. We also know that the smell seemed to originate from a location near our house--not on campus. However it became possible for there to be multiple sources because the various locations at which the scent was identified. People often identify this scent as being like smoke of the fire variety.

Based on the above, the only thing I can logically deduce is that the source is someones chimney. Or multiple people's chimneys. I suppose the only real mystery left is how on earth my hair is able to absorb smells that quickly!

WANTED: one guitarist, one drummer, and one... synthesizerist?

So Caresse and I are in a band called Mickey Rooney & the Ponies. Actually... we sort of are the band right now. We do the vocals... but we need a rest of the band. Frankly, a lyricist and a composer wouldn't hurt either for that matter. So far our song stylings include works such as:

• Breakfast at Tiffany's (the song our group was named for)
• The State Song (fifty nifty United States...)
• My Favorite Things
• Anything by the Spice Girls, or Heart... we don't really know why
• We can also do practically any theme song upon request
• And of course the perennial favorite: Celebration

The band name is non-negotiable--but if anyone is interested let us know! We'll be here all week!

So the really funny part is Caresse and I accidentily wrote essentially the same post... at the same time... but that's what makes us fun.

Upset? I'm not upset?!?

(number 1? Not really, since we lost to SDSU in the conference tournament[SDSU, really?] and have once again bowed out in the first round of the NCAA tournament)

This whole madness thing has actually added a dimension of joy to my March. In fact, March used to be my least favorite month of the year. It was just that ridiculously long stretch between midwinter break in February and spring break in mid April (Oh, good old high school, back when such wonders like spring break existed). The combination of the two turned March into this 7 week drought, free of vacations. I remember once upon a time I told a friend that I wasn't a big fan of March and she got all offended and wouldn't talk to me because that's when her birthday was. She wasn't grasping the whole "this actually doesn't have anything to do with you and was really supposed to be mildly entertaining" concept.

I don't mind March anymore now that I fill out brackets. Not only is it fun to play a game that I (frankly) am really bad at, but then you get to have something to talk about with complete strangers. I really like it when that happens. The cherry on top of this whole situation is that we make everyone at work fill one out. Somehow the first year we did this I got put in charge of keeping track of everyone, and the job sort of stuck. Now we get to go around badgering people into filling out brackets, even though just about everyone has no idea whats going on. I love the droves of people who put BYU winning it. Not that I don't love my team--I always have to give them the benefit of winning one game even when I know they will lose--but I am completely aware of the fact that despite multiple appearances, BYU hasn't won a single game in the NCAA tournament since 1993. Which despite my state of mind that still thinks it's 1999, '93 was sort of a while ago. For whatever reason I have this totally random bracket connection to Duke. I can't help but put them at least making the final four, if not farther, every year. And they always disappoint. But I just can't seem to say no!

There used to be this one guy who worked here that did a statistical analysis of the last decades' tournaments to find where the upsets happen. In theory, there should be 8 or 9 in round 1, abour 4 in the next round, and then 1 in each of the next rounds. This has been a tried and true method for many of my co workers. Others rely on the mascot theory. Another glorious TEC lab tradition is that of me making Jake's bracket for him. Every year. And he always wins. Every year. You'd think I would learn, eh? My favorite part of this whole little game is that it gives me something to do at work. Frankly, I get bored at work a lot. So for these wonderful three weeks, I can come into work, check to see whats happened since the last time I checked, and update everyone's brackets for them. I think its fun, even if no one else does.

It was kind of funny. This year when I was trying print out brackets I just wasn't paying attention and I kept accidentily printing out the wrong year's brackets. And not just printing them, but passing them out to everyone at work. Three times. I should have felt stupid, but I got over feeling stupid about things like that years ago--now they're just entertaining!

Enjoy the madness!

Love love love

Like this...

There are all kinds of love. I'm not talking courtly love--which for all intents and purposes doesn't exist anymore. I mean friendship. Love withers without friendship and friendship can blossom into love. Friendship is (forgive the pun) the heart of love.

For me my friends are some of the most important things in my life. When I'm away from my family, those dear friends of mine become my family. I know some people find me unapproachable and difficult to know, and that makes sense. I often agree with them. I think of my heart as concentric circles, each with their own wall. The outermost wall is probably pretty average. It's relatively easy to see me and make assumptions. But even a good acquaintance has to make it inside the next wall. It's considerably higher and more intimidating. The people who find themselves here are usually the ones that I meet in wards and classes, we find each other incredibly entertaining and convenient and when the situation ends we never see each other again. I'm really bad at keeping in touch with people, always have been. The last wall can look impossible. Usually the people who find themselves in there are family, people who I have known well for an extended period of time (like, years), or in some rare cases--people who excel at reading me and pulled a Reagan.* For me, most of these dear friends are as close as family. Once someone finds their way into the inner circle of my heart, it will be just as hard to get out again. I am fiercely protective and unwaveringly loyal to this small group. Just because I don't always agree with things that they do doesn't mean I wouldn't do anything for them. I am also terribly wary of people who try and wedge themselves in. The surest way to make an enemy of me is to brutally injure a dear friend. I tend to get angry at these people far more easily than the ones who do harm to me. Of course, generally as soon as my friend tells me they've forgiven the person--I tend to get over my anger very quickly. I really don't like feeling mad, and I guess it just isn't in me to hate people :). Oh the secrets you blog readers discover about me.

I was talking to one of these dear friends of mine today, and had one of those inner epiphanies as I tried to explain something to him. I have always been almost overly empathic. I love it because it really helps me to relate to people because I can almost feel the same thing they feel. When they are in pain, I feel it; and when they feel joy I share in that too. He told me that it was one of my gifts, and that it would bring me to love others more. I have never thought of it as a gift before, and I really appreciated the sentiment.

I suppose the whole wall analogy is sort of a moot point with this audience. If you know me well enough to be reading my blog you're at least a close acquaintance, if not a dear friend or family. Perhaps this will simply help you to understand how I work better. There are few things I look for more in a relationship that a feeling of understanding.

There are few things I love more than dear friends.

*For those who didn't get rather obscure reference: "Mr. Gorbachev--tear down this wall"

Maybe she's born with it...

I want to talk about self-esteem. Believe it or not--it isn't something that everyone has.

Last night I was talking to one of my good friends in the drafting lab. Now first, you have to understand something about her. This girl is gorgeous. Like, I mean stunning. We're talking when she was in my class last semester I was intimidated by her just being there. Now we're really good friends and she's still beautiful--I'm just not afraid of her anymore:) So she is always saying things like that she doesn't date much, or that guys aren't interested in her etc. I can never understand why. Not only is she really pretty, but she is super fun--and absolutely hilarious.

So we were talking about how neither one of us really date that much. And she shared something about a past almost-relationship. She told me the same worries that I always have but try really hard to not think. She explained that she always thinks that the reason she isn't dating anyone--or this one guy in particular--is because she wasn't smart enough, pretty enough, skinny enough, funny enough, and so on. I had to stop her because I think she is one of the most gorgeous people I have ever known. So I told her what I wrote earlier about her being so pretty that I was intimidated by her and so on. She started crying and we talked about past failed almost-relationships. Heck, she even got to hear about the saga. Luckily there was no one else in the building for this heart to heart.

Last weekend I was talking to another dear friend about the self esteem issue and how we don't have any. This girl is so marvelously outgoing, risky and daring in her social life that it seems nearly impossible to think that she has problems with her self esteem. Especially because she is always so good about making me feel good. And yet the things she does to keep herself from "getting hurt" are terribly reminiscent of this one's issues.

It's interesting how even the people that we assume would never have problems with the way they feel about themselves, are having problems. Maybe they're just better at hiding it. The problem, I would like to say, is associated to one's relationship to their Father in Heaven. But my dear friend has an incredibly intimate relationship with Him. And it's not exactly like the two of us are strangers--but I struggle.

Somehow that innate boldness we have as small children seems to evaporate when we reach adolescence. That whole being unsure of ourselves thing. Does it happen when we first have a failed relationship with the opposite gender? When does it start? Or, better question, when does it end?

So I know that I am a daughter of God. And that that should be all I need. But I guess the struggle sometimes is knowing that is should be enough and still floundering. I can always come up for reasons why mine isn't where I feel like it should be; but I don't know if those are the real reasons or just smokescreens because I can't solve the root of the problem--whatever it is.

The sun is shining, the tank is clean...

Today has been wonderful. I had the most stressful week ever last week, and looking at my planner, this one was going to be even worse.

I spent the weekend in Idaho. I saw my niece get blessed. She is absolutely adorable in my calm objective opinion. I got to spend time with my sister and brother in law. My parents flew in and picked me up, so it was really good to spend time with them just talking in the car. I always learn all kinds of things when I'm riding in cars. I also got to play with my nephew Josh. He is almost 21 months now and still as cute as ever. He finally got around to calling me Eminie. But hey, Aunt Stephanie is a hard thing to say. Heck. It's a mouthfull even for me! It was pretty adorable. In fact, the only bad thing about the weekend (other than of course missing my roommates :) ) was that the kid gave me cold. Well, or it could have been my Dad. Either way. I got sick. At least my brain isn't fuzzy anymore--just a naggy cough that gets worse the more I talk. I would post some pictures from the weekend but I don't have any. I'll have to wait for Julie to post them on photobucket. Josh was pretty funny. Especially when the little tyrant decided I needed to sit in the diaper box and dad needed to push me around the living room. I was laughing so hard I was barely standing, meanwhile the kid just has his hands upraised going, "why do you think this is funny?" What a wonderful little boy.

So I got back monday afternoon instead of sunday night because my sister gave me a sob story about wanting to see us longer. I caved, because lets face it--I would do the same thing in her place. So I got back to a brand new couch! It is fabulous. Our old one is broken so they finally replaced it. It's chocolate brown, microsuede, and appears to be very nappable. Lovely. And this means we have a totally burnable couch. So we called our friend from last year (of bonfire fame) and told him we had a couch to burn and thought of him. He told us that he already had three ready to go and when they we're going to burn them he'd let us know. Oh sammy sam sam.

So I went through my regular stuff and wrote up a schedule of my assignments for the coming week. I thought I was going to die. I went to my bidding and estimating class (which has a huge project due thursday I wasn't able to start yet) and at the start of class a girl raises her hand and asks greg when the project is due. Because the syllabus says thursday, but when he gave it to us last tuesday he said we had two weeks, which would mean next tuesday it would be due. He just sort of stared at us for a minute and then the whole class hops in with back up info trying to convince him. We continued in friendly banter for the next few minutes (thats the great thing about upper level classes when everyone is on a first name basis with the professor) including things like him telling us that he tells his children the syllabus is a contract; to which we replied that we didn't sign anything. He also said that if he extended, we'd just work on it on monday. Some kid pipes up saying yeah, well, we're just going to work on it wednesday. Greg just stares at us for a minute and we sit anxiously. Finally he just says that it's due tuesday. We applauded. I don't think I have felt that relieved in a very long time. Because now I can just do my normal semi-stressful schedule during the week, and work on my quantity take-off all day saturday.

wonderful.

And the weather today was fantastic. It was the epitome of march for me. The high was in the mid 60's (yes, that's a six) and there was this fabulous strong wind, not breeze--wind, that is only acceptable during march... or while sailing. The sun was shining. It was wonderful. The only thing that could have made it a better march day is a track meet. Because I will always associate that weather with sitting out and waiting for my race. And then the cherry on top of today is I went for ice cream with one of my very best guy friends. He makes me happy and I'm glad he's my friend.

Yes, I am dying at 40--thanks for asking

So, for those of you who missed it, I had mid-life crisis (mlc for short) last week. So here it is in all it's glory:

• My major isn't marketable, and I don't like my minor
• I don't want a career
• I love architecture, but I would rather major in something like "architecture appreciation" than something like actual architecture which would require doing things with contracts.
• If I've learned one thing this semester, it's that I don't like contracts. Every time I go to Bidding and estimating I feel like my soul dies.
• Architecture would require grad school, which isn't the end of the world, but the acceptance rate isn't super high for home and family living majors
• The only job that sounds appealing is being an administrative or personal assistant. It actually sounds fun.
• I thought I would have to get a business minor--but good news, according to my advisor I won't.

So, that's my mlc in a nutshell. Thank you and have a nice day!

Cateching on my Rosary

It's true; if there's one thing I know it's my Catholic holidays. Don't worry, I've been mocked mercilessly for it. But is it really a problem to know things about other religions? I submit to you that it is not. I just like to learn things. So sometimes the things I am learning are the historical background and significance of the celebrations of other religions, and other times its the minor aristocracy of the old German empire and how that influenced WWI. Isn't it interesting that the rulers of all the countries involved in that engagement (excepting the US of course) were descendants of Queen Victoria of England. And she had died within the last 20 years. So these governments fighting each other were cousins. weird.

Okay... back to my point. So I'm not exactly Catholic. Or Protestant. Or Anglican. Or even Southern Baptist for that matter. But just because I'm not any of those things doesn't mean I can't observe their holidays, right? It's like, Jews getting presents for Christmas. Or anyone trick-or-treating at Hallowe'en. That holiday totally got the shaft as far as the deletion of meaning goes.

So I like to have fun on fat tuesday. Traditionally, fat tuesday is the day before lent starts. Lent representing the 40 day fast of the Lord. To recognize this event(if your religion observes this holiday) you are supposed to give up a vice--generally food related. I've had friends give up coffee, or cookies, or ice cream. Way back in the olden days, people would give up fat and sugar. All of it. So, fat tuesday was designed to use up all the fat and sugar in the house. In michigan, this was the day of 1000 calorie donuts. They're called Paczki's. If you want a real treat look at the pronunciation for it on wikipedia. It's a kicker. Say it poon-shkii. Trust me. In Provo, it just means my indulgent roommates let me lead them on a night of fattening foods and deserts plus watching a Val Kilmer movie. It was "the Saint" now that I think about it. Ironic.

Group projects are the bane of my existence

So, y'know that part of middle school when you get super excited because you get to do only part of the work, and (better than best) you get to spend time outside of school with your friends and claim its for homework. Hogwash. Like anyone ever believes that.

Group work becomes steadily less fun the more of a perfectionist you are, and the older you get. Other people also seem to become less responsible. And the bigger the group, the more responsibility is shared, and so the less individual accountability there is.

And thus we see that even when you try and get in a group with people who care about their grade, they still don't get the contact information and interview done in time for you to write the paper. So, if you still want to get a good grade--you not only have to do it yourself, but at the last minute, and often in the middle of the night because your classes don't end until 10:30 at night.

Good times! Good times.

Working is futile

So, I made an unfortunate discovery today. Even if I got a 4.0 every semester for the rest of college, my GPA would only go up 0.04. Lame, eh? It sort of makes trying seem worthless. Especially since I would have to try really hard to lose my scholarship. Just about the only thing convincing me to keep working hard (other than the fact that I would hate myself later if I didn't) is my ultimate goal of graduating summa cum laude. Which has no dividends really. And it's really sort of an ambiguous goal in that I have no idea what GPA I need to have to get there. So basically the only reason I'm trying in college is for intrinsic reasons. So thats a good thing right? I'm learning for my own reasons and not for the number it gives me.

I feel liberated.

Operation Valkyrie is now in effect.

For whatever reason, I have always thought it would be sort of exciting to take part in a protest of some sort. Not one where the flag gets burned or anything, more like in "You've got Mail" where there's the troupe of mom's and small children walking around with picket signs and reciting a goofy little ditty to get the evil book conglomerate to close.

In that vein of righteous indignation, I have decided to stage a rent coup with my management company. I'm currently living in a condo in Provo. There are 15 apartments in our building--most of which are owned by different people and managed by different companies. We have discovered, through painful experience, that our management company currently charges us about $25 more per month than any of the other apartments. Now, if we had some sort of fabulous ammenity that the others didn't have--I'd be cool with it. I don't mind paying extra for something better. Alas, ours is one of the shoddiest in the building. Particularly when comparing couches: most are microsuede and plush, ours is fabric and broken. That and the fact that there is mold growing in one of the closets that they haven't done anything about. And the really dirty bathrooms.

I could however stomach all this, and even planned to live here next year (there is after all something to be said for not having to apartment shop) and then I found out the price for this apartment next year is going up $15/month. That doesn't sound too bad. But in total it makes $40 extra/month that we're paying more than the others in our building. Which in the 8 months of fall and winter semesters amounts to a grand total of $320 extra dollars, which is just enough for another month's worth of rent! That is what I begin to consider exorbitant. Especially when you consider that, in theory, when the economy goes down, generally housing costs will follow. Instead, we get charged more.

So, I have decided to play the disgruntled customer card. I've actually gotten suprisingly good at this. It's amazing what a business will do for you after threatening to take your business elsewhere.

Better than Tom Burlinson?? I submit to you that he is not.

For those who don't already see with crystal clarity what this post will be about: I saw the movie Australia this weekend. It was pretty good. I have not seen a new movie I enjoyed this much in a while. Everything about it just worked for me. The acting-watchable, camera work-wonderful, screenplay-fab. Nicole Kidman and Hugh Jackman (both Australia native's) excelled as the leads, but worked seamlessly with the more minor actors. I found the thing to be absolutely visually stunning with believable characters (I actually felt like they had motivation... not everyone does anymore), and I spent most of the movie more than a little bit covetous of Nicole Kidman's wardrobe. Not to mention the natural scenery was, or course, brilliant. What do you expect, it was Australia for goodness sake! It was, in a word, epic.

It was quite an experience to watch it in a Provo theater though. I don't think I have ever seen a movie where the audience reacted so unanimously to everything as it happened. Which, while funny, would have been fine if they had been mature enough to realize the significance of things like, why the aboriginal man is standing funny. Not to be amusing, but because it's an aboriginal symbol of respect, power, and authority.

Finally, the crux of the issue. To make it understood, backstory:
so, I have in my possession a copy of both "The Man From Snowy River" and "Return to Snowy River." Both movies starring Tom Burlinson as the hero Jim Craig. When people comment on our movies, these recieve more positive reviews from both boys and girls than all the other movies combined. It seems to be the ultimate movie, allowing the romance plot for the women-folk, and (as my friend Joran informed me) it makes you feel like a man--go find a horse and just start riding down mountainsides. Understandable. Heck. If I had a horse and some training I would totally ride down mountainsides. Anyways. One of the beauties in this movie (for me) is that Tom Burlinson is forgotten. For all intents and purposes: he IS Jim Craig. No one even knows the actor's name. If you saw him in another movie you'd just say, "oh, it's the guy from Snowy River." (Be honest. You know you would). So, the point is, general consensus is Jim Craig appears to be the ultimate Australian hero.

Now the problem. For those who have seen the movie Australia, arguments could (and did--I heard it myself) be made that Hugh Jackman is better than Jim Craig. Hah. There in that sentence could be found the inherent flaw in the argument. Hugh Jackman (quite flawlessly) plays merely a role. Jim Craig IS a role. I mean, I know what they meant but seriously; the fact that we recognize one as an actor, and one as a character should make the better one seem clear. Now, the argument could be made that the Drover was a more developed character than Jim Craig, but who doesn't swoon when the man tips his hat? Moral of the story. Hugh Jackman is a wonderful actor who did a fabulous job portraying an Autralian bush-man. Jim Craig is an Australian bush man. The end.

I would apologize for not having a point, but who says life always has to have a point? That would be boring.

Confucious vs. Confusion: who is the author?

So, this has been some kind of crazy week. No free time. None. Not that I'm totally complaining because lets be honest--I go a little bit nuts if I have nothing to do. So week=busy=good.

Then came the weekend, when I had entirely too much time on my hands. Luckily my wonderful roommate hung out with me so I didn't spend too much time being introspective. I'm one of those people who would go crazy in solitary confinement because I would have too much time to think. I had a lot to think about this weekend. A lot to worry and be anxious about. Or, to be more precise, two things to worry and be anxious about.

One is the living situation for next year. My management company wants to know by Friday if I plan on my life having any significant changes in the next 8 months. Which is totally understandable; after all, what kind of person undergoes unexpected significant life-changing experiences in their college years, right? Me and Caresse were thinking of moving in with two of the girls from upstairs, and they were thinking of moving in with us--which is good; but one of them is probably going on a mission now and I don't know what the other one is doing. So I don't know. We'll see.

The other thing driving me just absolutely stir crazy is boys. They are dumb (just in case anyone was wondering). Not just mine either. Lots of boys are dumb. My cousin's cousin and I have decided that boys are dumb, and girls are complicated. I'm okay with that. But sometimes it would really be nice to have a no-holds-barred conversation so I can get inside of that boys head. I don't care what the answer is I just need to know it.

In response to this, my head has been thinking and pondering it all weekend. I knew I was very confused, and I stumbled upon the thought that satan is the father of confusion... or something like that. So I looked it up and found 1 Cor 14:33 "For God is not the author of confusion... but of peace." Sunday I talked with my Bishop, who is wonderful by the way, he gave me some good advice that basically amounted to: try this certain thing, if it doesn't work, it's NOT an issue of timing... he's just not the right guy. Since he is (1) my bishop, and (2) basically answered the question I was fasting about in the direct way that only someone inside my head can... I'm inclined to believe him. Talking to him reminded me of other advice I have previously gotten, that enventually turned into this thought process:

I was told some time ago that "He will give me all He has promised, but that I need to have patience and humility--the blessings will come when He knows I am ready." It occurred to me finally that patience is faith. Faith in turn is tied into hope, charity, and the pure love of Christ; but the most important realization for me at this time was that patience is synonomous with faith. It seems a lot easier to have patience now that I know all it means is to have faith in Him and His plan for me. I have a lot of that.

I can have patience. I can have faith. I just need to wait out the emotional storm, and wonderful things will come.

I like my title's to be cliche

So I've decided that I don't have hobbies. No, really. I'm sure I used to have them--but they seem to have gone the way of everything else in my life. I've decided that if I were to use calculus to find the current value of my hobbies it would look something like this:

I know. I'm a geek. I just graphed my own hobbies. It just sort of tells you something right there.

I don't even know what my hobbies used to be. I mean, I did sports--so I guess that was it. Anyway. The moral of the story is sometimes I end up with time on my hands and nothing to do with it. I'll have finished my schoolwork for the forseeable future, and then if I don't have something to occupy my mind with I tend to stress about life. It's ironically when I'm busy that my life is stress free. So I've decided I need some new hobbies. Something that occupies my hands and mind for variable lengths of time between my required activities. This is me asking for input. If you have any good hobbies let me know!

Stuck in Neutral

Caresse likes to call what I did today being a "Totally Lazy Slacker-Bum"... maybe it's just what I am y'know??

So today, I had every intention of being productive. No, really. I had it all planned out and everything. I was going to wake up at 9:30, eat breakfast, shower, do lots of homework. Ward activity, bridal shower, suprise birthday party etc.

As Monk says, "this is what really happened..." : so I woke up at 8:30, had some breakfast, then decided to snuggle under the covers because my apartment was cold and I was already an hour ahead of schedule. I promptly dozed off and woke up a few times, finally shoving myself out of bed at 9:45. At this point I decided to do my finance assignment due Monday, then organized my time for the next week. This was my fatal mistake. I realized that I could get away with not doing any more homework for the rest of the weekend. And so I didn't. Have I ever mentioned how fabulous I am at rationalizing?? I did shower. But instead I read one of my favorite books, Paul Fussell's "Class: A guide through the American Status System." It's pretty fun; I'm a fan. The residual effect was that I spent the bulk of my day reading on Wikipedia and listening to iTunes. Followed by drooling over $400 silk scarves and 5-digit birkin bags. Btw, Hermes has a really slow website. Just in case anyone was wondering.

I should really go to that suprise party. My logic for skipping the other stuff was it was really cold and pouring down rain outside. Not exactly my favorite combo. I suppose the other reason was I really needed to work things out in my head. There's a lot of confusion going on up there right now.

Blame it on the Weatherman

I've realized that I talk about the weather more than almost anyone I know. I know it's the cliche topic from like movies and books, but you know what... it really works. You can talk about the weather with just about anyone. And I do. I also spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about the weather. Whenever nothing else is going on (especially if I'm outside) I find myself thinking about weather. Today I decided that my perspective on the weather is not exactly what one would call normal; but hey--I grew up in Seattle, so it's not all my fault right??

So this morning I woke up, went to class lah-dee-dah. Came out of class to walk home to an abysmally grey sky. Like, we're talking the sky is falling grey. And the rain. Did I mention the rain?? So as I walked home, I could have been feeling more than slightly irritated... after all, I was wearing my suede clogs; and my jeans drag on the ground so they end up being wet up to my knees; not to mention the fact that my hair was drenched so I would have to shower and blow it dry inorder to look normal again.

Instead, when I walked outside I got that dopey little grin I sometimes have and thought, "mmm, home." As I passed my people walking to campus they probably thought I was slightly crazy. As everyone is probably a little bit grumpy and annoyed--I'm grinning at greyness. I tend to think of it as more of a toddler's security blanket. The sky wraps me up in it's grey little arms. I am home.

The super-sleuth's are on the case!

Yes. I went there. I just quoted one of my nephew's favorite tv shows "My friends Tigger and Pooh". But that's cool.

So, somewhere in Provo there is a smell that is out to get me. I realize this sounds paranoid, and lets face it--it probably is, but somehow every morning I wake up and I am free from scent. I come home in the afternoon and I smell like I've been in some smoker's bar somewhere. Or at least have been camping for the last two solid weeks. My roommate seems pretty sure that it smells like fire smoke--which lets be honest is waaay better than people thinking I keep a stash of weed in my back pocket :)

A few weird things though:
1. the smell only affects my hair; not my clothes (although I have smelled it on other people's clothes)
2. the source has to be something I just walk by, but how on earth does my hair absorb smells that fast??
3. some days it's totally fine and I don't smell like smoke at all. But I didn't go anywhere or do anything different.

My next course of action will be to walk to campus different ways on different days to eliminate that as a source of the smoke. Hopefully I can solve it soon. I'm pretty sure Caresse is tired of smelling my hair for me all the time.

I am ashamed

Okay, so maybe I have more to say than I originally thought I did; but hey, anyone who ever told you I didn't have opinions was either lying or selling something.

So, I just finished an assignment for my finance class listing my assets. So, basically if I found out tomorrow that I was broke, I don't need to worry!! I could feed myself for a year if I could sell my DVD collection for $5 each (actually, I admit I made the assumption I could sell my LOTR extended editions for $10 each). yes. really. Maybe 2 if I survived on spagettios, scrambled eggs, and like powdered milk or something. I guess that tells you something about my priorities--you don't want to know how long I could eat if I sold my clothing.

If only someone would buy my iTunes music collection. I could last out the decade.

I have succumbed

Despite any and all protests to the alternative--it's official--I have a blog. I suppose if for no other reason than to get people to stop asking me. Maybe they'll realize that my life really is this boring:

We had a three day weekend--which is marvelous, and yet somehow I still don't have enough time to get everything done. Saturday I made aebelskiver for breakfast. If you don't know what they are... you should be publicly flogged. But to forestall any unfortunate encounters you may have (and so you look all ethnic and knowledgeable) aebelskiver (eb-ell-skii-ver) are danish in origin, and they are basically pancake balls that you can open and fill with different things. I prefer butter and sugar. Fresh strawberries are good too. I call them danish pancake balls full of delight and goodness. Because they are. Then, I spent the bulk of the day writing a talk about parables (which I then delivered on sunday) apparantly it was fantastic. But that's only if you belive all the people at church who congratulate you for doing anything in church. But I guess it's better to hear your friends telling you you did good things than having people avoid you because they don't want to have to lie to your face :)

Saturday night we re-arranged the furniture in the living room. It is wonderful. No lie. I walk into the room everyday and it's like a breath of fresh air. I'll have to take a picture and post it. We should have done a before and after. Frankly, anything is an improvement. I believe on Friday I referred to our living room as "the anti-thesis of good design". Not to be melo-dramatic or anything.

I made a cake yesterday. It was funfetti and it was delicious. I was slightly ridiculous and I didn't get all the homework done that I needed too. But I guess we all have our priorities, and mine yesterday happened to be concurrent with a Wii.