My One-hundred-and-twenty-fourth Post

So I used to think that watching TV online was the best thing that ever happened to me. How else could I have watched the entire first season of Heroes in the space of just a few days? So I started watching my favorite TV shows whenever I wanted (instead of not watching them at all because they didn’t fit into my schedule). It was great. If I had a spare hour on campus, I had something to entertain me! I would never have to miss House again! Martin started to bug me about How I Met Your Mother, a somewhat obscure comedy on CBS that we’ve both enjoyed in the past. So I added that to the list of things to watch every week. Then Thirdmango wrote about Gossip Girl on his TV blog, and I realized that Kristen Bell was the narrator. So I had to at least watch the pilot. Then I just sort of got into the habit of watching it every week. Then Hamburger was curious why I wasn’t watching Grey’s Anatomy anymore, so I went online with the intent to figure out what was happening, but then I accidentally got sucked into the spin-off of Grey’s, Private Practice. I don’t know if I’ll keep up with that one, but for now I’m keeping an eye on it. I was chatting with Martin online the other day, and she suggested I preview Samantha Who? to tell her if it was any good. It is. It got added to the list. I also discovered Pushing Daisies from Martin, and since it’s pretty much wonderful and everyone who’s anyone watches it, it got added to my list as well. Someone on the Board Board mentioned Jericho, and I also ended up watching that over the course of the last month or so. Luckily (or perhaps unluckily), there won’t be any new episodes of Jericho until January, so for now I don't have to watch every week. Oh, and if I ever miss the Office, I catch up on that online as well. That’s eight shows I’m watching each week. So clearly, TV online is not the best thing that has ever happened to me (but it sure is fun).

My One-hundred-and-twenty-third Post

Okay guys, I just wrote an entire post about disposable cups. Then I realized that I had written an entire post about disposable cups and deleted it. (Summary: 12oz cups rock!)

Unfortunately, now I can't think of anything much to say. I would use this opportunity to vent about my job, but Drazi came by work today, and I was able to get all of my frustration out by talking with her. I could talk about school, but I'd really rather not think about it more than I have to. I could talk about the stuff I do when I'm not working or studying, but that would severely limit the scope of the conversation. Well, I guess I could give it the ol' college try. Here goes:

*thinking hard*

Oh! I know! I've been trying to leave my wallet at home when I think I can get away with it because I've been spending too much on impulse-type things. Unfortunately, that means that I'm constantly running home to get my wallet. I forgot that I need my ID card to print something, or I forgot I promised Hamburger I would buy the tickets to Divine Comedy today, or some other random thing that I just didn't think about. It's starting to get annoying, so I think I'm just going to start carrying my wallet. I figure out some other way to fix my spending habits.


Anyway, I'm off to study and then I have to run home and grab my ID card before I take my test. *sigh*

My One-hundred-and-twenty-second Post

Once upon a time my “friend” was really sick, so she was on some pretty fun drugs. I was sitting on my bed flipping through a recipe magazine; she was on her bed concentrating on breathing.

Me: I wish I had mint extract. There are so many cool things I could make with it.
Her: Yeah… there was something awesome I know you can make with it… what was that…?
Me: Um, brownies?
Her: No…

…

Her: I remember! It was mints!
Me: No kidding, I can make mints with mint extract?
Her: Yeah!

Things I’ve done today:
-Not written a paper
-Bought mint extract
-Learned what Chicken Grenades are (grenades which have been battered and fried similar to the way that traditional fried chicken is prepared)

My One-hundred-and-twenty-first Post

I like chocolate milk, but I seldom buy it. I was grocery shopping yesterday, and in a last minute impulse buy, I picked up a half gallon of chocolate milk. When the cashier (I detest self checkout lanes) informed me that my total came to $15.00, I took it as a sign that buying the chocolate milk was the right thing to do. After all, if I hadn’t bought it, my total would have come to something lame like $12.92, and I would have missed the opportunity to pay exactly $15.00 for my groceries. And really, that’s probably a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. So don’t judge me.

The real tragedy was when I got home and realized I didn’t have any bendy straws. Luckily, krebscout was able to lend me a few so that I could truly enjoy my chocolate milk.

My One-hundred-and-twentieth Post

A few days ago, I received a package from home. Since all of my family was at home for Labor Day except me, they took pictures of all of the fun stuff they did. Then they sent me the pictures along with something to represent each activity (i.e., microwave popcorn to represent going to the movies). My mom claims it was to let me know they missed me, but Martin reassures me it was just to rub it in. In any case, isn't my family great?

Also, I've been thinking a lot lately about charity. Mostly about how uncharitable I am. If someone says something a little bit on the edge of doctrine during a Sunday school lesson, I silently scoff at their ideas. If someone says something very mainstream, I will mock them for being clichè. There's really no way to escape my scorn if you're speaking out loud in my presence.

Interestingly enough, I don't think it's all my fault. Instead, I blame all of you*. That's right, You. I get to listen to your rants about idiotic people who give horrible lessons that reference Chicken Soup For the Soul more often than the actual material in the manuals. I laugh along with you at your humorous stories about people who manage to find the exceptions to the "there are no stupid questions" rule. I see you when you roll your eyes and complain that all ward activities are lame. Now in most cases, I agree with you. I see your point. But here's the problem: I probably respect you a lot, and I probably crave your approval. If you think an activity is lame, there's no way I'm going to want to go. If you mention something negative about a lesson, I'm going to find it difficult to see the positive things about future lessons. I've been carefully honing this skill for several years now, and it turns out, it's a really hard habit to break.

I've pretty much stopped enjoying my church meetings and become very cynical (or uncharitable) about the whole thing. Now, really, I can't blame you all for this. It's really my fault, and ultimately, my problem. But I think it might help me out a little bit if we all try to be just a little bit more charitable.

I don't want you to censor yourself just because I'm around. But in talking with some of you, I find a spiritual side of you I was previously unaware of. Can we maybe let this shine through a little more often? Emphasize the good things more than the ridiculous? Share the important spiritual stuff instead of tucking it away behind a façade of humorous anecdotes? Please? This is important.

Thank you for your time,

&etc.




* This is, of course, much easier than blaming myself. Please forgive my momentary weakness.

My One-hundred-and-ninteenth Post

So sometimes, when I'm on a public computer, I start typing in my blog address, and I'm really surprised when it doesn't pop up as a recently visited site. Heh. Apparently my subconscious has an inflated perception of the popularity of my blog.

Anyway. It has been a rough couple of days. Work has been very crazy and I have been working very long hours all week at Job #2 (and it's not over yet). I almost cried yesterday when my confused coworker informend me that it was Tuesday, not Thursday as I had thought. On top of that, Drazi quit last week, so I am the only supervisor left in my area at Job #1. My poor trainees have been working there all week only quasi-knowing how everything is supposed to work. They're doing a great job, but I wish I wasn't working quite so much at Job #2 this week... it would give me more time to train people before fall semester starts.

The best things about yesterday (in no particular order):

• Rasberry cheesecake
• Seeing krebscout in unexpected places
• A letter from BonBon, "my missionary"
• Bruschetta (one of my most favoite foods in the world)
• Getting to go to sleep before midnight

My One-hundred-and-eighteenth Post

So sometimes I'm running late, and the easiest thing to do with my wet hair it to twist it up into a bun and secure it with an elastic band. I feel frumpy all day when I do this.

But I've recently discovered a viable alternative! If I take an extra minute to pin my hair up into a bun, it makes me feel instantly classy and self-assured all day. Hurrah!

My One-hundred-and-seventeenth Post

So right now, I'm scared to go "home."

It's ridiculous that I'm so afraid of change that I've been staying with my friend Hamburger instead of going "home" and unpacking and getting to know my new roommates. I think I'm just afraid of what a huge change this is going to be for me. Ugh.

So I should just go "home" right now... but tomorrow is Hamburger's birthday, and I promised to make her breakfast. So maybe I'll stay one more night...

My One-hundred-and-sixteenth Post

I saw a friend of mine do this, and it seemed like a good idea. Here are the ABCs of my summer:

A is for adventures I’ve gone on.
B is for books I have read without feeling guilty for wasting time.
C is for cell phones, which make it possible for Faybe to text me non-stop.
D is for Drazi, who makes going to work easier (and maybe somebody else, too).
E is for electric bills being sky high.
F is for flowers blooming everywhere.
G is for the Grand Canyon, where I had a lot of fun with family.
H is for Harry Potter.
I is for ice cream, there’s really nothing better for hot summer days.
J is for Jequirity, my blog.
K is for kite flying, which has yet to happen, but hopefully will soon.
L is for lightening, which reminds me of home.
M is for movie nights, the staple of my social calendar.
N is for napping—it never gets old!
O is for orange pepper carving—like pumpkins, but better.
P is for pond swimming, the best kind there is.
Q is for quiet time in the mornings when no one else is home.
R is for rainstorms on warm days.
S is for shish kabobs on the grill!
T is for twenty-one, the age I will soon be turning.
U is for unusual people I’ve gotten to know.
V is for vehicles, both krebscout’s and Hamburger’s… they make my life easier.
W is for working, which makes my life possible.
X is for x-ray vision: I’ve totally got it.
Y is for you, who have probably had some sort of impact on my life this summer.
Z is for zebras, which (I'm sure you agree) are amazing.

My One-hundred-and-fifteenth Post

I know I haven't blogged very much recently. I really don't feel like writing anything new right now, so instead of a thoughtful and humorous blog entry, I offer you the contents of a word document that's been sitting on the bottom of my screen for a week or so. I don't know what else to do with it.

Two girls stood outside the theater in the sparse shade offered by a nearby tree. The sun glared off the sidewalk, causing the taller girl to squint as she looked down at her friend.

“They’re going to let me take trig/pre-cal next year,” she said, suddenly.

The shorter girls eyes lit up. “Really? That’s awesome, Rhiannon! Maybe we’ll be in the same class. What period are you taking it?”

“Um… actually, I’m… I’m not going to Sabino."

The shorter girl’s eyes clouded over in confusion. “UHS? I thought you were on the wait list.”

“Yeah. They called last week to let me know I got in,” she said guardedly. “I wonder where Allison is.” Rhiannon turned to search the parking lot for Mrs. Brown’s little VW Rabbit. “She’s going to go to UHS, too,” she added casually.

“I know. She told me that the last week of school. ”

The girls stood there in silence for a short while. Rhiannon continued to watch the traffic on the street in front of the theater while the shorter girl surreptitiously tried rearrange her shirt into a more flattering position. A slight breeze temporarily alleviated the heat rising up off the sidewalk, causing Rhiannon to glance up at the sky. “Do you think it’ll rain?” she asked her friend, hopefully.

Her friend jumped at this sudden question. “Probably not,” she predicted, casually tucking her bra strap out of sight. “It usually doesn’t rain until the beginning of July, so we’ve still got a few weeks of this heat.”

“I’m never going to get used to summers here,” Rhiannon complained.

“You’ve been here for three years! You’d think you be used to it by now. I think that’s Allison,” she said pointing to a car turning into the parking lot.