Intentional Serendipity

I am nearly one half a lawyer.

2011-12-10T13:36:00.003-07:00

And much like being one half of anything (pregnant, tall, a felon), this means I am basically not at all a lawyer, but I can drive pretty much anyone crazy if you try to watch Law and Order with me (I have seriously considered writing a strongly worded email to the writers and including the text of the 4th Amendment because I am certain they have never read it).

Don't be fooled by the fact that I can call out an unreasonable search and seizure when I see one. That doesn't mean I know anything about being a lawyer. It turns out that law school is more like finishing school for grown ups who want to make something of themselves; instead of preparing its students for marriage, we are prepared to please and be courted by our employers (I would love to continue this analogy, but it would get very inappropriate very quickly). If society cared as much about producing good lawyers after law school as they did about producing good doctors, then law school would look more like med school. And it definitely does not. (Although both recent law grads and med school grads google problems them come across with an alarming degree of frequency.) But I digress.

The point is I have spent the past year and half and many dollars (an amount which I will not disclose, but you I will tell you that I could have purchased a fleet of Mini Coopers with this money) devoting pretty much my entire life to learning law. And when someone asks me a legal question, I give them the best advice I have. And it's always the same: "Talk to a real lawyer."

Aside from the tiny wrinkle that I am completely unprepared for any sort of future legal practice, I have absolutely loved my law school experience so far. I am intellectually challenged every single day. In fact, once I am finished procrastinating here, I fully intend on learning about the legal barriers to challenging an administrative law decision in court. See what I mean - both educational and fun: edu-tainment, if you will.

I went to see my career counselor a few months ago to ask her what classes I should take.

She asked what my interest areas were.

To which I responded, "I like learning."

Blink. Blink blink.

To clarify, I added, "You know. The law."

Head tilt. Squinty eyes.

Needless to say, that meeting wasn't extraordinarily helpful. Fortunately, given my low standards for class selection, it's pretty hard for me to pick something that I won't enjoy.

I have one more exam to take before this semester is over. So I'm going to go prepare for that so that my next post isn't about the repercussions of my dwindling GPA.

Cheers.

Sometimes you end up at the DMV.

2010-09-09T16:37:00.001-06:00

Like Disneyland, the Los Angeles DMV has a nice sign that informs you how long you can expect to wait before you can take care of what it is that you came here to take care of. Unlike Disneyland, no one would ever (and I do mean this seriously), ever claim the DMV to be the happiest place on earth (I feel like there's a Dane Cook bit about this).
So, since the happy informative sign is telling me that I can expect to wait an hour and 26 minutes, and that is looking like an optimistic estimate, I figured I might as well pull out the iPhone and blog a bit.

So! I have officially moved and am through my first few weeks of law school. (Note: I am in Los Angeles, not Boston. If you thought I was going to Boston, then you need to pick up the phone and call me because we don't talk often enough.)

Law school has been intense and scary and exhilarating and hilarious all at once. I like to say that law school feels like junior high meets Hogwarts, because it does. It is like junior high because we have lockers, our class size is right around 300, we all hang out in one building all day and eat lunch together during our lunch breaks (not joking most people bring lunchboxes). But then we have mailboxes, and I've never seen owls delivering the mail, but I don't think it's entirely outside the realm of possibility. We are also sorted into sections (again, I assume they were assigned, but a sorting hat or something similar could have been responsible for this), and there is weird inter and intra section competition (no points system yet, but give it time). Also, our books look a lot like what I imagine the books at Hogwarts to look like.

You might have heard rumors about the Socratic method or "cold calling" during law school (see Elle Woods' first day of class), and I happily report that it is all true. I was definitely the first one to be cold called in my section and was asked questions for about 20 minutes about a case. Although it was initially terrifying, the whole experience wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.

And that's the update so far. Also, did I mention that it is always sunny here and that I live about five miles from the ocean? Because I do. So there's that.

More to come next time I'm stuck in the inefficient grind of government bureaucracy.

Y'all don't know what it's like.

2010-06-01T23:17:00.005-06:00

This just in: it's June! For some reason June is a much better month than May, and I can't explain why. Maybe it's because a spectacular someone was born in June (hint: start now brainstorming your b-day prezzies for me), or maybe it's because it just is great. Either way, as I was driving today I saw the date and time displayed on a car dealership sign and I got so excited I started car dancing and singing really loudly. Sorry, commuters.

So something that I've noticed that I like in my life lately is a good notebook. I love a good notebook in which I can write whatever I want. Lately I've been utilizing my notebooks more fully. I have this black moleskine (oh I know, right? I'm THAT classy) that I've been using the past few months to write in, and it's been treating me right. The other day I actually wrote my grocery list in the moleskine, and you better believe that I felt like a ridiculous hipster walking around Smith's checking off my grocery list from a moleskine notebook. Go ahead and judge me; I certainly did. Side note: in case you hadn't heard, moleskine notebooks kind of having a reputation for being used by ridiculous hipsters. Visit this Onion article entitled "Privileged Little Artiste Writing Something Oh-So-Precious Into His Moleskine Notebook" to get an idea of what I'm talking about here.

A thing I don't like: nails. Not the kind that you can hammer into a 2x4 and use to build a house (those actually seem pretty useful to me). Rather, I don't like the nails on my feet and hands, especially toenails. Now that the noncommittal Utah weather rounds to a summer-ish-like experience, I have pulled out the more revealing footwear choices I own. And by revealing I don't mean slutty (although a good pair of slutty shoes certainly do have a place in my heart), I mean the shoes that showcase my toenails. Now, I have the self awareness to know that I have fairly big feet. And I also know that my toes look notably better when they are well manicured and painted. But so help me, that is A LOT of work. I don't know if my nails just happen to grow ridiculously fast, or if this happens to everyone (if so, why have we not thought of something to take care of this?!), but seriously asking me to continually have nice looking feet is a large commitment. So when you see my in revealing footwear maybe just don't judge, ok? Life is hard for a privileged little artiste like me.

Stupid Girls - Pink

I'm so glad that I'll never fit in
That will never be me
Outcasts and girls with ambition
That's what I wanna see

Find a medium.

2010-05-26T15:11:00.007-06:00

Because I am now a city dweller, I do things that are cultured - like go to art gallery showings. At one such event, I was discussing the art with someone (because I do that now that I am cultured) and I was noting how I found such a clear form of expression to be enviable. To which she replied, without missing a beat, "find a medium. Seriously, just find one." Just a little funny, right? I thought so. But also true.

So, in one of a myriad of attempts to "find a medium" in my life, I am going to try to blog a little. And since I am, by nature, a stringent rule-follower, I have decided to give my blog a little direction. This is technically an experiment, so if I abandon it within the week and erase any virtual evidence of this post, then don't judge. I'm finding a medium, ok? I shall henceforth treat this blog as an exploration of things Dione does and does not hate. Since blogging is a narcissistic endeavor anyway, I figured I should embrace it and let this be a platform for my judgment. Boo yah.

So here we go.

What I like: The rain. This just in - it's springtime. And that generally implies a great deal of rain. And I am never disappointed. A polite sprinkle to beliggerent, horizontal rain, I generally approve. Even if it ruins my fantastic afternoon plans, I cannot be mad. So when you all wake up and are angry about the rain because you cannot do [insert whatever it is you do when you're not on the internets], take a small degree of solace in the fact that I am happy. Or just keep twittering about how angry you are. Whatevs.

What I am less inclined to enjoy: surprise rain attacks when I am wearing good shoes. As previously stated, I LOVE the rain. Always. But I don't necessarily love it when the rain sneaks up on me and takes away my liberty to wear nice shoes. For example: I decided to be eco-friendly and adorable and walk to the grocery store for some veggies so I could make myself a delicious stir fry meal (and it was incredible, btw). About the time I was leaving the grocery store, I was engulfed by a downpour, which would have been pleasant had I had on a coat or something. Instead I just swam home. Did I mention I was wearing really good shoes? But I wasn't too mad. Because I can't hate the rain. Even the sneak attack rain.

Song of my moment: Pervigilo - First Aid Kit
Is it your fear of loosing
that makes you go further
What makes me wonder friend
is how you get away with your lies.

Also for use in speed dating.

2010-05-21T18:45:00.004-06:00

Dear internets,

It's been awhile since I've written you. A whole semester, in fact, has gone by without so much as a virtual peep from me. Since it's been roughly half a year since you've heard from me, I thought I'd reintroduce myself to you.

Here are some new things and some things that have always been true about me:

I am a Gemini.
My sign doesn't really mean a lot to me. It's kind of like saying, "I'm of mixed European descent." Again, not a terribly influential part of my identity.
I actually am of mixed European descent. And a tiny tiny tiny bit Native American.
Sometimes, when I smile, my eyes get squinty and Asian. My dad used to tell people I was his Amerasian baby from the war.
On Saturday, May 8th, I graduated from Utah State University with a BA in Statistics and Law & Constitutional Studies (Political Science), and a minor in Latin. Little known fact: when you graduate with honors, you get to wear a medal. As if I needed any other motivation than that.
When I am not tan, my skin is chartreuse.
I can do my hair in two ways: 1- in a faux hawk, and 2- exactly like Justin Beiber.
In the fall I will be attending Boston University School of Law. So I can be a lawyer. And wear nice suits. And create justice etc etc.
When I was younger, I was horsegirl. (Sidenote: if you do not know horsegirl, then you were horsegirl.) Some remnants of my horsegirl self still remain, though they are no longer an essential part of who I am. Like the appendix, or wisdom teeth.
I like to dream big. Almost to a fault.

So there you go. 10 things you love about me.

Until next time, in the not-too-distant-future.

Can you tell I'm suffering from acute finals-burnout-itis?

2009-12-10T17:26:00.003-07:00

Two posts in one day?!?! Call Roland Emmerich because THE WORLD IS DEFINITELY ENDING. And guess what? None of his scenarios actually happened. Hopefully we'll go out classier than 2012, though, eh? Ok, fine. The world is not ending (at least not today. And not that I know of. But I haven't read any news in awhile, so actually I guess it might be), it's just Finals Week and I'm completely over being my studious self.

Anyway, point of this post: I placed a phone call earlier today to someone that I work with semi-professionally (I saw semi because I don't actually have a real, big-girl job, so everything I do is, at most, semi-professional, and that's rounding up) to say that I wouldn't make it a meeting. She didn't answer, instead I was sent to her voicemail, which told me:

THIS IS NOT INTER-MOUNTAIN TRUCKING.
THAT IS -8866.
IF YOU'RE LOOKING FOR INTER-MOUNTAIN TRUCKING, YOU'VE CALLED THE WRONG NUMBER
If you're looking for Chelsea, please leave a message.

And I'm all WOAH. She was so mad from all the yelling about this trucking company that by the end of her message when she was talking about herself, she seemed pretty angry too. I almost felt so bad that I didn't leave a message. And then I wondered if I should comment on it, like maybe I should preface my message with, "Hi. Ummm, I don't like trucks." Or maybe I should've said something like "INTER-MOUNTAIN TRUCKING IS A SERIOUSLY AWFUL TRUCKING BUSINESS. Also, this is Dione and I won't be making it to the meeting today on account of me becoming an incubus of viral plague." But I didn't.

Also, in case you're curious, I just checked several reputable news sources and there is nothing about the world ending. So, put down the cyanide because I guess everything is going to be fine. At least until 2012.

Remind Me Later

2009-12-10T12:41:00.002-07:00

So, it seems like whenever I'm working at my computer something will pop up to let me know why something is wrong with my computer, be it a needed virus scan, an upgrade I need for something, or a dreaded Windows update (fellow PC users know about the DREADED updates. I feel like a notification like that is just a sign of my impending doom.). When these notifications pop up they usually have two button options. The first option fixes the "problem" immediately: Update Your Computer; Scan Now; Upgrade. Then, there's always another lovely button that says something like Remind Me Later.

Oh, how I love the Remind Me Later button. Today, as I graciously declined to continue with the virus scan, I thought about the RML button, as I will call it. The RML really plays into my weakness of procrastination. Because I really can't imagine opening up my computer, seeing that reminder, and saying to myself, "Oh my! Now is actually a really good time to scan for viruses. Because I have literally NOTHING to do for the next hour." Why would I open up my computer if I didn't need to use it? The RML is simply code for don't ruin my day today, ruin my day some other time.

I sort of wish other aspects of my life had an RML option. Like right now, I'm sick. If only someone woke me up this morning with: "Dione, you are feeling crappy. Do you want to be sick now?" And I could patiently and nonchalantly just press the RML. Or maybe I'm at work, and there's a reminder "Dione, you need to go to the bathroom." But I'm busy! Solution? RML.

Woah there, livejournal.

2009-11-19T11:10:00.003-07:00

Ummm, in honor of my teenaged, filled-with-angst, misunderstand and happy about it, emo self of days gone by (and a few late nights here and there), I thought I would be classy and post a poem.

HA! Not one I wrote. I post my poetry exclusively on livejournal. You're laughing, but, seriously. Never again.

Anyway, I was reading through some old journals recently (I keep a LOT of journals. All different kinds, for all different reasons), and I found this written in one of them. I think I actually posted this a long time ago (possibly on the LJ?!), but I thought I would revisit it. I don't know why it speaks to me, but her words just get me. It's very weird. (And also emo, if we're being honest.)

I want to be
like the waves on the sea
like the clouds in the wind,
but I’m me.
One day I’ll jump
out of my skin.
I’ll shake the sky
like a hundred violins.

-Sandra Cisneros

When I first read this I was a senior in high school. Now, four years later, as a senior in college, I am just the same, and so worlds apart from that time. But, this poem definitely still hits me.

Also, I got into law school recently. Does that mean it's my time to start shaking the sky?

So, here's a thing.

2009-09-01T00:24:00.001-06:00

I feel like when people use the phrase "half a dozen" they're really trying to dramatize something non-dramatic.

Example: "He must have used that phrase half a dozen times in class today!" Way more extreme than the man using the phrase six times.

Also, doesn't it feel odd that someone is counting carefully enough to know exactly six, and then rounding to half a dozen to pretend like they're estimating?

It's all terribly untoward in my eyes.

Time to go to school. Choose a weapon.

2009-08-29T23:36:00.002-06:00

So, school started. Also, I moved into a new apartment, which not only took over my life for roughly a week but also forced me to evaluate the sheer amount of crap that I have in my possession (aka muchos crap).

My new apartment is close to campus, which is crazy convenient since I live, love, learn, work, eat, judge, etc. on campus all day every day. On the first day of school, in honor of the great convenience that is my newfound proximity to Utah State, I decided to ride my bike to school. Did I mention that I live at the bottom of a very large hill? Well because I do. And, as I started biking to school, I became acutely aware of the steepness of the hill.

You should also know, I'm not in the greatest shape of my life. My normal summer of hiking, biking, and other outdoorsy and athletic activities was replaced with filing and copying and general interning-ness.

So, naturally, as I was riding up the cliff - I mean hill - I was having a rough time. Also, true to Dione form, I was a little late and didn't remember to eat breakfast. Being the epitome of rational behavior, I decided I would "power through" the hill and just make it to the top and then stop to rest.

As I was cresting the top of the largest hill in the continental United States, I realized the error in my calculations: I felt sick. I felt REALLY sick. So then I threw up.

Fortunately, there was a row of cars backed up in the before-the-8:30-class rush and all of the people who live around me who were also walking/biking to school were walking by. It was very comforting to be sick from biking in front of everyone.

The silver lining? As my boss said, "You probably made some little freshman feel so much better!"

A little insight into my family.

2009-07-13T15:18:00.003-06:00

So, when I left for the summer to go to D.C., I assumed that everything at home would be fine.

I was wrong, very wrong; everything is not fine.

Everything is COMPLETELY AWESOME!

So that's my little brother Chet. I'd like to say that I taught him everything he knows, but clearly that's not true. Such talent can only be God-given. Thanks to my mother for sending me such updates.

Unrelatedly, I had a thought today. Over the summer I took a course on comparative economic systems (no, that isn't the funny part of the story. At least not for me.), and my professor told us an interesting anecdote about Russia after the fall of the Soviet Union. After the collapse, McDonald's (in a truly I'm Lovin' It style swept in and decided to set up shop in Moscow - which, of course, resulted in Russians (babushkas and tiny tots alike) lining up to get in on opening day. Apparently they had such an screwed up economic system by the time the system collapsed, they needed employees on megaphones yelling to the Russians:

The employees of McDonald's are not mocking you. They are smiling because they are happy to serve you!

Apparently they had previously had a problem with employees mocking the customers because everything was state owned and everyone had to shop there anyway.

[This relates to something interesting to someone besides the nerd audience, I swear. Here it comes.] I decided that it would be really nice if I could have that kind of warning outside a lot of the places I go. That way I could just know what to expect. For example, when I am about to go into a sandwich place for lunch, I could have someone telling me:

These people do not like you! They WILL spit in your food if you're mean to them! They are actually getting paid below minimum wage! Don't tell the government!

Or, when I'm about to enter the Buckle:

The employees of the Buckle get paid solely on commission. They will accost you and follow you. Most arduously! And probably break something in the process. Like your femur. So just be aware!

Or when I'm about to enter the DMV:

This visit will take you a minimum of four hours. No, it does not matter what you're here to do. Plan on it. Four hours.

I feel like this would really help. Maybe McDonald's could do it for us. I would be totally lovin' that.

This is really happening.

2009-06-22T19:44:00.002-06:00

You should probably follow this link if you want to be amazed.

Yah, apparently this is really happening and I didn't know until just this moment. What a beautiful event that shall be!

Oh, also I am currently living in Washington, DC. And it rocks!

This might explain my absence. I'm in group 2.

2009-05-22T09:09:00.001-06:00

This is a direct quote from the writer of a blog I follow obsessively:

People who ace the LSAT and ace law school tend to fall into the same categories:

1. They're geniuses and just "get it" the first time around.
2. They study around the clock. As a result, they walk around bleary-eyed, drink lots of coffee, sleep very little, and buy pencils in bulk.

I Believe, Sista!

2008-12-11T18:41:00.005-07:00

I'm not saying I've done this recently, but I am saying I've been close.

This video says a lot about this finals week for me. "I hope I don't get no B in that class."

Tomorrow at this time I'll be free of my semester of 23 credits o' doom!

Calcul-ass

2008-12-05T12:18:00.004-07:00

This pretty much describes my life right now.

I've spent the past three semesters (one and one half years) carrying around the same 12 pound calculus book, and last night I finished my last calculus assignment! I literally turned the page and realized I had reached the appendix. I feel extremely accomplished.

Please stay on the line.

2008-12-04T10:38:00.003-07:00

I think there is nothing more degrading than waiting on a phone line for someone to take your call. The melodic, monotonous flute music - with a hint of non-denominational holiday spirit-ness - certainly rubs salt in the wound.

Often there's a condescending woman who will interrupt the flutist's reprise to mention to you how important your call is, and will urge you to stay on the line. Meanwhile, you'll try to accomplish something, like respond to an email or read the paper, but everything is hard to do with a phone to your ear. If you put it on speakerphone it is worse because then your whole world is taken over by the holiday flute.

Mr. Frederic Wheelock

2008-11-16T13:39:00.003-07:00

So I'm taking Latin this semester and we're using a textbook entitled, creatively, "Beginning Latin", by Frederic Wheelock.
I had no idea before I started this class, but this man is quite famous within a (very) small group of individuals: the Latin nerd community.

But he's famous for good reason. He's famous because he wrote arguably the most comprehensive book teaching beginning Latin, the first of which he vainly entitled "Wheelock's Latin, and he was completely insane.

I get to translate between 10 and 15 of his Latin sentences, and usually twice a week. I have learned more than I EVER cared to know about him, his life, his family, his relationship with his mother, his view of women, and his neuroses in general. Here are my two favorite sentences from "Beginning Latin".

Mortem patris exspectabant, cuius mores mores numquam dilexerant.

Translation: They were expecting the death of their father, whose character they had never loved.

Puer matrem timebat, quae eum in viam eiciebat.

Translation: The boy was afraid of his mother, who used to throw him out into the road.

You sort of thought I was kidding, didn't you. Reading Wheelock is more than just an exploration into Latin language, it is multi-disciplinary extravaganza of knowledge that delves deeply into Freudian psychology.

Tight sweaters and bags of cash.

2008-11-12T01:32:00.002-07:00

So I was in class today and professor said, "we are like the government Borg."

Also, I am currently studying for a math exam using a whiteboard. I just bought some fancy-new-pants dry erase markers, and I'm not sure if it's the fumes or the late hour or what, but I swear when I write on the board the marks get a little bigger as the marker dries. It looks like my equations are moving after I've written them.

It's way trippy.

Yes, I get paid to do this.

2008-11-08T14:54:00.004-07:00

This semester I've been working for a professor on a research project. My duties vary during the semester, but currently they require me to look through a certain newspaper scanning for any articles relating to/mentioning education.

Last week I had the good fortune of reviewing The Sun Advocate of Carbon County. It's pretty much the most heartbreaking work of journalistic genius this side of the Mississippi. I'll give you a few samples.

First we, have this article, and I'd just like to point out that this was actually categorized as "local news". I live in a small town, but this is ridiculous:

Plastic fence barrier entertains young Carbon High Dino fans

Bralin Wilde and Sidney Sandoval play in a fence cover removed from Carbon High School's baseball field. The cover was removed while construction of a wood barrier fence is being completed. The girls decided the plastic would make a good jumping toy as they watched a Carbon High ball game.

And, hells yes I counted this as education.

Also, the Carbon High football team got a new coach! From the looks of it, he was probably selected based on his facial hair (that stuff doesn't just grow on trees, you know).

Also, please note that he will not be teaching at the high school, because he's still working on getting his teaching certificate.

The question on everyone's mind: is he single?!?!?! I know. I'll do some digging. More details to follow.

A Few Confessions

2008-10-19T20:43:00.002-06:00

So I'm going to unload. I have a few things to get off my chest.

I haven't watched any of the Presidential debates. I think they're probably way interesting, but I always seem to be gone when they're on. I've seen the VP debates, but not the Presidential ones. I generally make time at the end of my week to watch Gossip Girl, but I have yet to actually watch those debates.
I used to wash my hair every other day. I'm afraid that standard has slipped a bit... I blame Lori.
I cannot tell the difference between Tina Fey and Sarah Palin. Seriously. Especially since the SNL experience.

There you go. As my grandpa would say, put that in your pipe and smoke it.

So... Whoops

2008-10-12T20:15:00.003-06:00

Umm... August 17. That's the last time I updated. Whoops.
Let's just let bygones by bygones, shall we?

Basically, I started school again. And I'm taking many credits. I will not give the exact number, only because it sounds much worse than it is. (And, yes, for your information, I am posting this from the library. And yes, I should be writing a paper.)

This semester has been exciting so far, though. I'm learning Latin. And, I will admit, I love it. Don't judge.

Also, I've started riding a bike around campus between classes. And I have learned several things from that. Namely, with a backpack not only is it much harder to pedal on a bike, but it is much harder to steer. (I might have hit a parked car... A couple times...) Basically anyone watching me ride was probably SO entertained.

Also (2.0), I had the attended the greatest sporting event of my life a few weekends ago. The USU v. BYU football game was the most fun I've had in a long time. And, in light of the several people who may or may not read this who either currently do or have at one time attended BYU, I will spare you my BYU commentary. I will only say that I had a really good time. 'Nuff said.

The past few weeks have been emotional, to say the least. I will not go into the details, but I will echo my sister Cassandra's sentiments. I can't go into the details of my life here. It's not that my family tragedy has left me unaffected, it's that I just can't go there. I'll leave it at that.

I hope to be posting again soon! Sorry for the blogcation.

Word, G-Man.

2008-08-17T12:46:00.003-06:00

So I love gardening. I love to grow plants. I currently have five plants growing in my room, two downstairs, and a garden and two pots of plants. I love growing things. So, be warned, there will be pictures to follow of these said plants.

It seems fall has found me again, and I am feeling the unnerving stimulus of trying to stand while my world starts spinning again. The busyness of the school year is creeping up on me again. I was looking at my next few weeks, and literally every moment, from when I wake up to when I collapse from exhaustion, is booked with a place for me to be. The pace of my surroundings is picking up, too. Campus balloons with a few more people every day. The lazy summer feeling is fading. But I like this feeling of my impending doom. Every fall of my life I get to have this feeling of restarting with the beginning of school. Once I am finished with school (supposing that this ever happens), I think I will miss this.
Here's to Fall 2008.

Olympians

2008-08-11T23:49:00.002-06:00

I'm 100% behind Team U.S.A. In fact, I've spent more time watching the Olympics in the past three days than I have spent watching TV in general for the entirety of my summer.

But, seriously, some of the Olympians are annoying. I think part of training should be for them to get out of the gym and learn how to interact with other people.

Just an idea.

The Wallpaper of My Life

2008-08-05T20:29:00.002-06:00

"Yah... I just like to start with the really hard stuff and then move to the easier things. That way it can only get easier."

Me: "Really."

"Well, that's what I did with alcohol. Start with vodka, and I figure if I can handle that then I can handle anything."

Me: "That's what I did in my major. Just started with the 5000s. If I get Calculus 3, I'll definitely get Calculus 1."

"Yah. I do it with women, too."

Me: "Wait... does that even work...?"

"Ha. No. Yah, I didn't think about that before I said it. I like to do that sometimes."

From the only person who hasn't seen the new Batman movie yet.

2008-08-04T08:41:00.001-06:00

"So.... Have you seen the new Batman movie yet?"

Me: "No, I need to see it."

"Yah there's a character in there that really freaked me out. Like I have daymares."

Me: "Daymares."

"Yah. It's been bad."

First name crap. Last name bag. If you have trouble remembering it, just think of a bag of crap.

2008-08-02T14:41:00.001-06:00

So right now I am sun bathing at my spiritual epicenter (the Logan aquatic center - what I affectionately refer to as Laq), and I am reminded of several things, one of which is why I never go into the kiddie pool.

I am watching two pool employees wading around the emptied children's pool. One has a net, with which he is fishing out feces from the water. A girl, following close behind, is holding a black bag full of poop.

At this moment, I am also reminded that my job(s) do not suck.

Manipedie

2008-07-29T22:46:00.003-06:00

So, yesterday I got a facial. Bless my poor, simplistic soul, what an experience. The wonderment included (but was most certainly not limited to):

Heated sheets
"Disrobing to my comfort level"
Dim lighting
A massage on every appendage of my body, and also my neck and shoulders
Creams, oils, and what I can only assume to be mud, all of the scratchy, creamy and muddy varieties
Enya
Steamy, hot face cloths

There would be a period of rubbing something all over my face, and then a massage on some part of me that I didn't know was tense, and then it would repeat. At once point she peeled a layer of something off my face, and my skin was reborn.

Basically this was the best thing that has happened to me in a long time. I think it took me a solid hour to break out of the trance I was in after I had it. If I may, I do recommend that everyone experience this joy at least once. I had mine at Phazes Salon, which was exceptional.

Child Care

2008-07-28T01:22:00.000-06:00

At work we often get scratch paper, on which I usually doodle while talking on the phone. Recently a fellow coworker and I discovered this picture on the back of one of our scratch papers. It was pretty funny, until I noticed the baby was wearing glasses: then it became hilarious.

Done and don't.

2008-07-26T01:19:00.000-06:00

Sometimes, when people ask me what I do for my job, I want to show them pictures like this. It would almost be too easy to convince people that I do simply nothing at all.

I love this photo. However, as awkward as it is, the photo does not even come close to exhibiting how awkwardly they got into this position. (Hey fella....)

No, you are!

2008-07-25T01:14:00.000-06:00

Saw this girl on campus.
She said it was from another country...

Custard

2008-07-24T01:00:00.002-06:00

I was looking through some old pictures I had, and they reminded me of a few things I meant to post on here, but never quite got the chance to. So, lately I've decided that I really do love to cook, because it is fun, and I also because like to eat. I decided to make a fabulous meal, which - despite the event I am about to describe - really did turn out well. For dessert, I planned a caramel custard from a recipe I got from my friend Joy (o' Cooking). When I read through the recipe, it didn't seem too challenging. But neither did beating the Americans during their revolution, so I guess Georgie and I are equally unrealistic and self-assured.

During the concocting of the caramel custard, Joy instructed me to melt sugar, and then let it boil for several minutes before proceeding. After melting it, I put the lid on the pot, and let it go for about 30 seconds. I soon realized that a strong, good sized column of steam was coming from the gap between the lid and the pan. I opened the lid, only to be bombarded by smeam (smoke/steam). Then I dipped my wooden spoon inside the billows to the pan and it came out covered in a tar-like substance. After screaming, running outside, opening every door and window in my home, fanning the smoke alarms repeatedly, screaming some more, and (finally) dumping the tar I made in the gutter (I didn't think it would be a good idea to leave it by my house!), all was well again. A few days later, my roommate found the leftovers of my sugary delight (pictured).

And, believe it or not, the caramel custard turned out ok despite everything (I think).

Shoes. Let's get some shoes.

2008-07-23T00:29:00.000-06:00

Lately I've found myself completely incapable of resisting new footwear, specifically heels. Within the past few weeks, I've procured 5 more pairs of heels. In honor of my being completely irrational, I lined up one shoe from each pair and photographed them.
They do look happy together, don't they?

I have no regrets!

Not orphan, often!

2008-07-21T01:00:00.000-06:00

Here are several quotes surrounding me lately:

"Sometimes, I just wish I had a bed pan. I've had to pee so much lately, and it's just a pain."

"I think he'd do anything for you. Except maybe go to the Ice Capades, because that really freaked him out as a little kid."

"The higher your hair, the closer you are to God."

I am often incredulous at the hilarity that is the wallpaper of my life.

Also, my new favorite invention is UPS package tracking. Like every good internet capability, it's both exciting and addicting! Now whenever I order things online (another favorite pastime), I get to check (roughly 5.7 times daily) where my beloved packages are! For example, right now, I have a package in transit from Denver. I can almost see my poor little package, piled among boxes, so far from home, longing to make his way home to me... It's a good time indeed.

2008-07-14T00:11:00.001-06:00

"It is a good day to focus on your health -- the clothes in your closet have not been shrinking, despite what you would like to think. Start keeping track of what you eat each day and how much exercise you get. You'll quickly see that there are painless changes you can make that will help you look better and feel better. "

Yes. That was a quote from my horoscope. My berry delivers a horoscope to me every day, and my horoscope for Friday told me that I'm fat. Great. Add that to my list of paranoias.

My favorite part was the clause about my clothes not shrinking. So gently put!

Poop you out.

2008-07-09T14:11:00.000-06:00

I was talking to a new student on the phone today, and she asked directions to Utah State. I was telling her to go through Sardine Canyon, and then I said, "yah, then that street will just poop you out onto Main Street."

Not a typo. I said poop to a new student.

And she didn't even acknowledge that I used the word poop in a semi-professional situation; we're talking not even a chortle at the awkwardness.

My Apologies. Also, I am in love.

2008-07-09T10:14:00.003-06:00

I would like to, first and foremost, apologize to the 3 people who spend at least .02 seconds a month thinking about/checking my blog for updates.

I have failed you.

That said, I will explain why.

I am in love. Completely, entirely, unabashedly, and I don't care who knows it! I got a Blackberry Pearl for the joyous event in which I unceremoniously went from teenagedom to the aged and sage realm of a twenty-something-year-old. Basically, I grew up, and in celebration of said metaphorical growth, I got a beautiful, red blackberry. It's sleek, fantastic, and I no longer feel the need to use a computer.

I completely understand the term "Crackberry" now, and I am living, loving, and embodying the term. So feel free to send me a text, pin message, blackberry messenger message, message through a google chat of any flavor, facebook message, a shout out through your blog, email to my aggiemail account, email to my gmail account, or simply call me and you can be sure I will receive it.

I can actually post from my phone, so really there so should be no excuse. But look forward to many thrilling posts sent via the crackberry in the future.

Quotes From the Underground

2008-06-06T20:12:00.001-06:00

"Oh, you make that much money? Yah, well, I'm a teacher. It's noble."

Five Reasons Why I Don't Shop At the D.I.

2008-06-06T20:00:00.003-06:00

When examining merchandise, I imagine the previous owners and their unhygienic habits.
Guilt. I feel like I'm running around like an idiot, shopping for ugly prom dresses and my flippant chicaneries mock the people who shop there out of necessity.
The smell, it is funny.
Sometimes when I hold the clothes I imagine little bugs jumping from the clothing to my person (they are green and their voices are tiny and high pitched. This might be reminiscent of an Arthur episode). Logically I know there probably are not any bugs at all, but for some reason this image won't leave my head.
I always find things and "I swear I owned this! No, for real, this is mine. I gave this to the D.I. I swear. No, really. I had it in sixth grade."

Coppers

2008-06-01T13:58:00.002-06:00

So lately I've started a vendetta against policemen. They keep us safe and tell us to obey laws and blah blah blah, but there are SO MANY policemen in Logan! It's actually shocking. On my way home last night I saw 4 policemen in a ten minute drive. The ratio of policemen to citizens in Logan is probably 78 to 1. As if I needed something else to be paranoid about!

This morning I saw one pulling an old lady over on her way home from church. I've even heard of them pulling over a bride and groom on their wedding day. I can just see it now...
Cop: Look at these hooligans. All dressed up and ready for crime. I'm going to stop them in their tracks!
*Pulls over car*
Cop: What the hell d'ya think yer doin?!
Groom: Sorry, officer! We just got married and we're on our way to our reception! We're just so happy today, we didn't realize we were speeding!
Cop: Pha! A likely story. I bet next you're going to tell me that that there poofy dress of hers is s'posed to be a weddin dress! Pha! Tickets all around!

Note: I have actually never been pulled over for speeding [knock on wood]. In fact, the only thing I've ever been pulled over for was when the cop assumed I was drunk...which actually has happened twice. Apparently I "drift" a lot when I drive. Who knew.

It's lovely that there are so many people whose life long dream is to protect the people from themselves, and I honestly don't mean to diminish the job because I'm sure it can't be easy [sincere]. I'm just so sick of every other car I see being a policeman. Logan should spend a little more of those fine tax dollars on maybe, oh I don't know, education? And let one of the 14,000 traffic cops move to a bigger city.

Sadists.

Speaking of sadists, I went to the pool yesterday [happy!], and got WAY sunburned [sad!]. I'm currently trying to go about my normal activities while not letting my skin touch anything. Needless to say, it's much easier said than done.

I just pimped my blog!

2008-05-25T15:37:00.003-06:00

Ta da!

How bout dem apples?!

After much hard work, and several weeks of learning HTML code (at one point, even in Spanish), I have officially pimped my blog! I hope you enjoy. There are still a few kinks I need to iron out, but not too shabby for being completely oblivious to web design! I hope someone out there is proud.

Also, I'm going to try to update the masthead every so often - the timing of which will be determined by how lazy I am, how much time I have, and how much I like the current masthead.

Actual Conversation

2008-05-22T23:30:00.001-06:00

*Ring ring*

Me: Hello?
Friend: Hey...
Me: ...
Friend: Where you at?
Me: Umm... sitting in my bed. Uh, where are you?
Friend: Umm at the meeting.
Me: OH!
Friend: Hurry, make up an excuse and I'll tell them that's why you're not here!

Now that's the mark of a true friend.

I Rock [Climb]

2008-05-20T22:58:00.002-06:00

Hey hey hey! I just bought my climbing pass to the Rock Haus!

I'm completely thrilled.

Secrets

2008-05-18T15:04:00.004-06:00

Steam People

2008-05-14T23:56:00.003-06:00

I love drinking herbal tea; it's delicious. One morning I made myself a cup and the steam from the cup was swirling so energetically, it was nearly opaque. I tried to capture it on camera, but I'm not quite sure that's possible.

Also, I about to go retreating. Hopefully it will be as good of a time as I remember.

Temptation

2008-05-13T22:42:00.003-06:00

When I go to a movie rental store, I can't help but pick up every ridiculous movie that I see and insist to whoever is perusing with me that I am completely serious and honestly want to get the movie. I probably do this 20 times per visit.

I no longer wonder why I don't rent movies very often.

Debutantes and Tinnitus

2008-05-12T22:19:00.009-06:00

Hi! My name's Lil Keem!
I am hard core and I have a way nice bod!

You are cordially invited and encouraged to participate in this,
Lil' Elizabeth Keem's
Virtual Coming Out Party.

Go ahead and throw some streamers around your house, workplace, or computer lab in which you are currently sitting, and maybe let out a little whoop whoop or two. Lil' Keem is coming out! Not in the sexual orientation sense, but in the debutante-now-available-for-marriage sort of way. If you're unfamiliar with debutante practices, then first, you should read this might-be accurate article written by Americans en masse, and, second, you should watch She's the Man (actually, revision: if you haven't yet seen She's the Man, you should do that first). Please note, I have no witty commentary to account for the fact that Lil Keem is actually a boy. (Except that the whole situation is just quite fishy.... [Ok, I formally apologize for that])

My fish is named Lil Keem. After a brief stint with anorexia, he is happy and healthy and looking fabulous. This is the best picture I could get of him, since I accidentally let the flash go off (twice) and he was quite afeared.

Unrelatedly, my roommate has a t.v. in our room. The t.v. sits on a piece of furniture (that should never have been a desk, but unfortunately was at one point), and its obscene weight forces the "desk" to bow inwards; it's all very Rent-esque of us. The t.v. emits a high-pitched ringing noise when it's on. Normally, I don't notice it above the noise of whatever I happen to be watching. This is fine, except my roommate cannot hear it; I took a hint from Terry Collins, and have diagnosed myself with a mild form of Tinnitus.

Mayflowers

2008-05-08T01:30:00.006-06:00

Last Sunday it was warm (which was a big deal)! It amazes me how all of Cache Valley crawls out of their basements to enjoy the sunlight when it finally decides to come out in mid-May.

I took this outside of my house when I was lying on my back in the grass. The chartreuse buds are fantastic, no?

Photographic Documentation

2008-05-07T21:48:00.005-06:00

There are a few pictures that I took that I've been meaning to post that I'll put up in the next few days. Sometimes I feel the need to photograph the extreme moments in my life because they are simply all that unbelievable.

First is this:
I found this on my car one day after someone implied that my house was on fire. As I'm not a huge Scrubs fan it didn't seem that funny. After I did some research I figured out the allusion, but it took me a second. Go ahead and google it if you're interested, or you can just accept that my life is ridiculous.

Strictly Speaking

2008-05-03T19:42:00.000-06:00

Strictly speaking, there is never a good time to be pulled over.

Technically, however, there are plenty of bad times to be pulled over.

Mission Accomplished (.5)

2008-05-02T18:10:00.002-06:00

I am officially halfway finished with my undergraduate experience.

And I'm not, nor have I ever been, married, engaged or incarcerated.
That either means I'm doing well or I'm not actually living. Either way I feel fine.

Come On Over

2008-05-01T23:12:00.002-06:00

I just danced on a table at the library.

To Shania Twain.

Because I'm just at that point.

And damn it felt good!

"Feminism"

2008-04-30T21:10:00.006-06:00

One time I made a comment about women and how they should be respected more around my grandpa. The following conversation ensued:

"Gramps": Are you one of those 'liberators'?
Me: Nah. Suffrage was enough.

Tonight I got in a verbal scuffle for being a "feminist". At the risk of sounding extreme, I believe the following:

Everyone is equal.
Men and women are fundamentally different, but should not be restricted by those differences.
The presence of a Y chromosome in your genetic code does not enable you to do anything you could not do before, nor does it make you smarter, better or incapable of cooking, feeling or asking directions.
Sexism exists.

I'll stop there.

I like being a girl. In fact, I think it rocks. Here are some of my favorite reminders of how much girls rock:

That's just a start.
If you don't believe sexism exists, don't take my word for it.
Look around you; dare to ignore expectations.

A Law Unto Himself: An Exploration of Religious Exemptions and the Free Exercise Clause

2008-04-30T11:44:00.002-06:00

So I've been working on an extremely intense research paper since 8:00 a.m. Yesterday morning. I think the only time I've stopped was when I ate lunch yesterday, ate dinner last night, and took a brief nap no one could realistically call sleeping.

On the bright side, I'm probably getting smarter.
Unfortunately, this intelligence is coming at the expense of my fine motor skills and my ability to demonstrate kindness to others and understand the etiquette social interaction.

Unusual

2008-04-27T13:31:00.002-06:00

So I just sneezed and burped at the same time.

I almost wanted to throw up, just to make the whole process a little easier. But it's fine. It all worked out. My throat feels a little lumpy now, like maybe my esophagus popped out into convexity like a tin can with all the pressure that simultaneously floated up and pressed down into itself.

Anyway, it was weird.

Thought Process

2008-04-24T23:41:00.003-06:00

Today I went to the bathroom in the library (my second home), because I had to "go", if you will.

I walked into a stall and saw a dollar lying on the floor. My thoughts proceeded as follows:

Ooh a dollar!
I should pick it up!
What could I do with a dollar?
A Diet Coke sounds nice...
Oh no.
It's on the floor.
Of the bathroom.
In the library.
On the first floor.
Oh no.
Not worth it.
*imagining tiny germ bugs jumping from the $1 to my hands, my books, my computer, my soul*
Very much not worth it.
Ew, someone will pick it up.
And spend it!
And then somehow it'll end up back in my hands!
Oh no.
Oh no.
This is why I never carry cash.
Umm... I'm definitely going to need a different stall.

Jocesome!

2008-04-20T22:42:00.005-06:00

This weekend I took a 20 hour vacation to Salt Lake City and ran the Salt Lake Marathon!

....5K.

But it was impressive nonetheless! I can't explain why running until I threw up felt so fulfilling, but it was an awesome experience, and a great way to pay tribute to my sister (not to mention all the swag I now own).
My (kick-ass) roommate Sarah Reale (pictured closest to the ground) made us these shirts to wear. They said "Go Big or Go Home" on the front and the back said "Jog for Jiggy". A bunch of awesome friends came down with me and I pretty much loved it.

I've been wanting to throw up for about a month now, and I honestly feel better.

WOD

2008-04-16T14:36:00.004-06:00

Every day in my email's inbox I receive the Word of the Day. The email includes a definition and a few example sentences. Today I got this:

objurgate \OB-juhr-gayt\, transitive verb:

To express strong disapproval of; to criticize severely.

I objurgate the centipede,
A bug we do not really need.
-- Ogden Nash, "The Centipede"

So I began to wonder about ole Ogden. Did he write about the centipede simply because it rhymed with need? What about:
"Some Weed"
I objurgate weed,
A drug we do not really need.

Or
"Shatheed"
I objurgate Shatheed,
An ethnic name we do not really need.

Or
"The Pig Feed"
I objurgate pig feed,
A feed we do not really need.

Take me to the moon.

2008-04-15T22:44:00.003-06:00

I work in a building that has two elevators. The elevator on the east side of the building is small and blue. The tiny, blue carpeted walls smell of aged grease and stickiness.
To operate the elevator you must press one of the buttons. The buttons are round and and black and protrude from the wall. The buttons make a pleasant popping noise. I imagine that people have felt the same feeling about a noise when they hear the noises phones would make when they had to spin to the numbers, even after newer technology had been around long enough so they rarely found a phone like that.
To select a floor you have four big, round, black button options:
1
2
3
Sky

You can go to the first floor, the second floor, the third floor, or to the sky.

2008-04-02T19:39:00.001-06:00

Jocelyn “Jocie” Garlick, age 15, passed away March 22, 2008 while skiing at Beaver Mountain, Utah. Third of four children, she was born October 8, 1992 at Logan Regional Hospital to Dean and Lisa Garlick.

Jocie was a freshman at Logan High School, and a proud Grizzly. She was on the Logan High Golf Team, enjoyed playing tennis, and was a member of the Touchdown Club. She enjoyed singing, playing the piano, and loved music of all kinds. She was an avid reader, and was very intelligent, exhibited by her 4.0 GPA.

Jocie was known for her vivacious personality and her brilliant red hair. She had a great sense of humor, infectious laugh, and beautiful smile. She is remembered for her kindness towards all, and will be greatly missed by all who knew her.

She grew up skiing with her family and they skied every Saturday together. She was an excellent skier, and always wore her helmet. Jocie’s greatest passion was for skiing; she passed away while doing what she loved most.

Jocie is survived by parents, Dean and Lisa Garlick; siblings Cassandra and Bob Fawson, Dione, and Chet; Grandparents Max and Melba Fredrickson of Taylor, Utah, and Owen and Joyce Garlick of Farr West, Utah.

The family would like to thank all of those who have expressed their heartfelt love and condolences at this difficult time, as well as the Beaver Mountain Ski Patrol. In lieu of flowers, donations are being accepted for a memorial fund in Jocie’s name at Cache Valley Bank, Logan, Utah.

Written by Cassandra Fawson and Dione Garlick.

My Intellectual Decline

2008-03-21T16:32:00.002-06:00

I had a quiz in my Calculus class yesterday and I got a whopping 2/5.

Today we were given the exact same quiz and I scored 1/5.

While I'm not shocked that I'm literally getting dumber, I am surprised that I'm declining in such a predictable, linear manner; it would almost be impressive if it wasn't so depressing.

Flight of the Passing Fancy

2008-03-20T15:04:00.002-06:00

So, today I realized that I like to sing loudly while I'm doing math homework.
I also realized that this habit is weird. And I'm not planning on stopping.

The Death of a Family Man

2008-03-19T18:26:00.003-06:00

I think the world is filled with sadness. Sadness is tucked underneath the corners of life. This acute sadness breeds tragedies of the most significant kind: the tragedies that are unseen. Tragedies that are so simple, so pathetic, so romantic they are practically invisible.

There is a family that I observe roughly once a week. The life that they have created, the wallpaper of their existence, makes Hamlet look like a carnival. The most tragic aspect of the way they live their lives is how oblivious they are to their level of unhappiness. I want to show them that their way of life isn't the only way of life. I want them to feel the momentum in broader purpose, the sting of unwarranted loss, the emotion of passion; I want them to live.

Shralping the Gnar

2008-02-29T08:48:00.004-07:00

In case any of you don't subscribe to the glorious joy known as winter sports (namely skiing, the spiritual epicenter of all winter sports - and perhaps joy in general), you really should think about starting.

Here is a video that my dad made from footage back in January, just to show you how sick the pow has been this year. I am the one that skis the best.
Also, in this video you can see my sister ending up with her feet in the air and my roommate taking out two branches of a tree (including the one that clotheslines her).

Check it out:

In case you're still wondering, I freaking love to ski. And I'm pretty sad the season is winding down. It has been an incredible season, though. And I certainly can't complain about that.

Blogs, dogs and lies.

2008-02-28T07:53:00.004-07:00

So I read this blog, and I love it - mostly because she's hilarious and witty and I dig that sort of thing. She also has incredible pictures (possibly because she has a sweet camera and maybe a touch of skill), which she posts on her site regularly. I saw this one:

And I really liked it, so I put it as my background on my computer. Then I was thinking, what if someone asked if that was my dog? And I decided that I'd have to say, "she belongs to my friend." And I guess that would be the most accurate, and would certainly make me sound less crazy than if I said, "Oh right. I read this blog, and I really like it, and, like, I just thought the picture was great so I put it on my computer, and even though I don't know the person who writes it, I still read it like every day and I still put it on my background."
Just a little extreme.

Also, I've been researching law schools and law school admissions and the LSAT lately, and I was reading about the scoring of the LSAT. Apparently, scores range from 120 to 180. 180! Umm... was I the only person who saw legally blonde? She scored an effing 179! Now I'm pissed. A 179. Freaking Elle Woods scored a 179. Now, virtually any score I get will be accompanied with the sinking disappointment knowing that Elle Woods did it better. Probably way better. So, thanks for establishing a virtually impossible standard to meet, Elle.
Way to ruin my life, media.
Unbelievable.

I love music.

2008-02-18T21:45:00.003-07:00

Why does good music rock so much harder when its loud?
I want this piano [or any, really].
Most ardently.

V Day

2008-02-14T17:58:00.008-07:00

Valentine's Day.

I will make no bitter, sarcastic commentary about the "celebration". But, and here's the rub, I will quote someone else's sarcasm! Lucky you.
The good people who write the "Daily Dose" from Steepandcheap say:

"[Valentine's Day is] even worse for single people since it's just a sad reminder that the only thing keeping the other side of the bed warm is a dog they care about way, way too much."

Beautiful.

Speaking of dogs that people care about way, way too much, when I moved out of my house my mom got a dog to replace me. Occasionally my mom sends me pictures of the dog, named Izzy. Here's one of my favorites:

Notice her handbag.

I take one solace in the fact that my mother loves her more than she loves me: whenever I come running towards her, talking in a certain voice, she cowers. Because she knows I'm going to make her dance around and pretend to sing Broadway. (You should see it. Incredible. I've also been known her put her around my neck and wear her like an Izzy scarf.)

Way to Ba-rock the vote, Utah!

2008-02-06T19:54:00.000-07:00

So, it's all mathematical.

Super Tuesday
+ Fat Tuesday =

Super Fat Tuesday!

I hope you all performed your civic duty.

I'm going to complain here for just a second, so feel free to tone me out. I think that's fine.

I really hate it when I hear this phrase or any of its relatives: "Well, I'm just really not into politics, so I don't care."
You're not really "into" politics?
Well politics is really "into" you!
And even though you might think that, because you can only name two candidates and even then you only know one name (Barack and Mitt), you're unaffected by what goes on in the political arena, it actually matters. A lot! The government is everywhere. Choices made by the people you (or maybe not you) elect play a significant and daily role in your life. So maybe you should pay attention.
And you definitely should vote.

For those of you who do like politics, and also laughter, then you should check out the best thing that has happened to me since Sonic Diet Coke.

No one feels any different.

2008-01-08T21:07:00.000-07:00

So I just made a video to welcome the new members of the A-Team (the USU Orientation Staff). It's not supposed to be serious or official, and - don't worry - we won't be showing it to any new students. But I think it's humorous. Take a looksee.

Also, I am in the most fascinating classes. For example, my calculus teacher is a total math brat (I bet you didn't know they existed) and also extremely intelligent and teaching us in a completely new and challenging way. Oh and he looks like Greg Kinnear from such fine films as As Good As It Gets, Sabrina, You've Got Mail etc.

I love my new semester.

Just a thought.

2007-12-31T19:18:00.001-07:00

As I was kicking up some sick pow at my sanctuary, Beaver Mountain, I had a thought.

I am able to discern a lot about people by the way they use resources in excess.

How do you spend your extra money? I buy books, music [in a variety of media types], ski gear, and experiences [i.e. concerts, movies, road trips, etc.]. I like to spend money on people who are special to me, whether they know it or not.

How do you spend your extra time? I like to read; I like to blog [clearly]; I like to write poetry; I like to daydream; I like to play the piano and sing; I like to ski; I like to watch whole seasons of certain TV shows at a time; I like to be outside - hiking, camping, napping.

How do you spend your silence? I generally like to listen to music when I'm alone. But sometimes, I like to listen to sounds that surround me, and sometimes just the silence is enough. When I'm with someone I'm comfortable with, I let the silence simmer, but I get too uncomfortable around Unknowns and begin to bumble.

How do you spend the last few moments of every day, right before you fall asleep? Sometimes I make lists [of tasks I must perform, items I need to buy, people I need to call, assignments I must complete], but I really love to dream. I like to think about my favorite places, memories, daydreams, insights. It's my favorite part of my day.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This was sort of cheesy [it was all kinds of "smell the roses", whoops]. Maybe my New Year's Resolution will be to stop writing things like this. Except I loathe resolutions [although I did succeed with my last one - 4th date or soul mate. Maybe because it rhymes.]. Regardless, don't worry. It won't become a trend.

Killing Spree

2007-12-30T19:39:00.000-07:00

So there was a professor this semester who made my life pretty terrible.

And I had a dream in which I killed him. And got away with it.

Apparently my subconscious is both vindictive and homicidal. That scares me a little.

Musings.

2007-12-21T19:46:00.000-07:00

I don't like Christmas music. I'm sorry. I know that everyone has this inexplicable mental connection that links Christmas music to some idyllic, warm room filled with loving people, chestnuts roasting and pumpkin pie. I somehow missed that. I think all Christmas music sounds alike too. It feels like sometime, somewhere someone decided that a certain chord progression will represent love and joy and Christmas cheer. That's fine. But it's just really not for me.

Also, I moved not too long ago and I used a shoe box. Everyday I would see this shoe box sitting on my kitchen table while I ate. And one day I realized that on the side was written "polyhedron". I have thought extensively about the origin of this word and I've decided it must be one of the following:

Someone named their kid "Polyhedron". Maybe he/she was the older sister to cube, prism and isogonal zonohedron. Probably didn't have a great childhood.
Someone has written Tourette's syndrome and has to write classifications of shapes all over.
Someone decided to inform the idiot public that that shoe box is a polyhedron (which, apparently doesn't mean much because a polyhedron is very loosely defined, according to wikipedia).
Someone had a bunch of blocks that could be combined to make a polyhedron and decided to put in all in a shoe box and had their third grade class play with it, after they finished understanding multiplication with uncooked pinto beans.
Polyhedrons United, a activist geometry group, decided to write their name all over everything that was a polyhedron. However, they heard someone coming so they only got "Polyhedron" down before they had to scamper back to the nerdery with their calculators and protractors.

One of those.

2007-12-14T15:54:00.000-07:00

I just finished a two hour math test.

And I had to pee for roughly 45 minutes of it.

And I feel like I've been run over by a bus.

So my semester is over, yet I feel surprisingly un-liberated.

Amuck! Amuck, amuck, amuck amuck amuck.

2007-12-13T12:15:00.000-07:00

So the fate of my younger siblings currently rests in my intrepid hands. [Or: my parents flew the coup for a week and went to New York City, and I was given the pleasure, nay the privilege - due to a certain microwave favor recently enacted by said parents - to watch them.]
And, with their fate lying where it is, I get the distinguished pleasure of doing certain things like taking them to the bus in the mornings [it strikes me as ironic that I take them to the bus. Isn't the point of the bus so I don't have to take them? Just thinking.], which is lovely.
This morning when I took my little brother to his bus stop I saw all the kids waiting for the bus. But they weren't clumped disorderly and run amuck, they were actually lined up, in a straight line, of all things.
I thought it was an interesting comment on the state of our society, where even k-5th grade children feel the need to form a line when waiting for the bus on a street corner. Or maybe it's a really good sign. Maybe Lord of the Flies wouldn't happen after all; they would just form a representative government to tell them where they should line up. Then they would sit in their straight lines, passing around the conch and telling scary stories and wiping boogers on each other. Oh Golding, such an extremist.

Unrelatedly, finals week is killing me. It's a good thing I wasn't normal before, because I certainly would've ruined that.

Voluminous

2007-12-10T19:35:00.000-07:00

So recently it's come to my attention that I sing loudly.

Nay, let me revise. It has been brought to my attention that other people notice that I sing loudly. And I have something to say about that.
Never am I as happy as I am when I'm singing (especially when I'm singing loudly).
There are plenty of incredibly neat people in this world who are loud singers:

Brandi Carlile [If you don't know her, then you don't know joy. Direct Brandi quote: "You can't hear? It's ok. I can sing louder than I can talk."]
Madonna
Ghandi [probably]
Rachmaninoff, Sergei. [Ok, he didn't sing. But he played extremely loudly. He was in fact known to break piano strings]

Extremely uncool people sing softly. Like these people:

Brittney Spears [when she sings at all]
Voldemort [I doubt he's ever sung before]
Satan. [He whispers softly, evil things]

Thus, using comparative logic we can deduce that there is a direct correlation between how loud someone sings to how cool they are.
I'm just saying, try to appreciate me. And please don't judge me for it.

A Glimpse of My Life:

2007-12-03T19:45:00.001-07:00

Friend: I wanted to buy her "The History of Love".

Me: I love the smell of Borders.

Friend: How are these organized? Are they alphabetical?

Me: Really. Yah. Duh. incredulous, How did you think they were organized, the Dewey Decimal System?

Friend: Well.. um... yah. I kind of did.

News Flash

2007-11-27T11:42:00.000-07:00

2 Items that brightened my day:

1. Lil' Keem ate. Twice! I'm no veterinarian expert, but I think that's a good sign. Although, now I will have to deal with his poop... Interesting.

2. It! Is! Snowing! Beautiful. Wonderful. Fabulous. I am ecstatic with anticipation. I simply cannot wait to ski!

Moving

2007-11-26T12:15:00.000-07:00

So I moved over the Thanksgiving break. I absolutely love my new house. It's wonderful. There's only one thing that troubles me: the doorbell. When the doorbell is rung, it is not only quite loud, but it has a troubling sound.
A normal doorbell sounds like this: "Ding Dong".
Mine sounds like this: "Ding......"
And the "Ding" note hangs in the air, heavy with the anticipation, resonating with the expectation of the "Dong" that we all thought had to come eventually. But no. Alas, our hopes and fears and shot down like poor little Bambi's mother.

Also, moving is unsettling. You feel sort of out of place, but not really. Like you don't really belong anywhere, but you belong too many places. But I love the feeling of sleeping the first night in a brand new house. Usually the room is filled with cardboard boxes and pieces of furniture that have yet to be set up. Everything feels new and different. And when you wake up it takes you a few seconds to remember where you are and what you're doing there. I like that.

But, after about a week of working on it, my stuff is all in place and life in order! Feel free to drop on by and see it.

Inspiration: Conspiracy Theory

2007-11-22T21:54:00.000-07:00

Observation:

Whenever someone is tortured in a movie, the interrogator is always dressed really well. I don't know if tall, dark, devilish men are considered more intimidating when they're in Armani suits, but they certainly all seem to dress that way. Or maybe it all started one time when someone went to a wedding right before they had to go coerce someone they'd previously captured into giving up highly important information and didn't have time to change. Then word got out and everyone else had to meet that standard just to live up to precedent.

You're beautiful just the way you are.

2007-11-21T17:25:00.001-07:00

I have an anorexic fish.
Lil' Keem, the most recent addition to my family, is a red and white male Beta fish with a diamond his back and an eating disorder. He quite literally just doesn't eat; I honestly do not know how the little buddy is still swimming. I've tried various types of food and many different encouraging phrases.
Maybe it's all the fish beauty magazines he's been reading. Or maybe it's because I leaned his food against his bowl and he read the nutrition facts. I put him in front of a mirror for a little while, and maybe that just did it for him. Maybe he's trying to make a stance and is refusing to eat until the genocide in Darfur is ended with peace. Regardless, I'm starting to get worried for his health.
The point is I'm worried.

(It's also just a little rude. I mean, I can't take Lil' Keem for a walk, I can't really pet Lil' Keem. I can't teach Lil' Keem to roll over or play dead. All I can do with Lil' Keem is feed him and watch him swim around. And now all I can do is watch him swim around until he runs out of energy. Bummer.)

2007-11-19T17:33:00.000-07:00

I bought a shower curtain that looks like my blog.

No, scratch that. I bought a shower curtain because it looks like my blog.

Inexplicable: not explicable; incapable of being accounted for or explained.

2007-11-15T22:14:00.001-07:00

There are many things in this world that I do not understand. Here are a few of them:

So yesterday I threw up. And it ended up on the ceiling. How? How did this happen?

Sometimes, when I'm feeling careless, I throw my headphones into my bag. They inherently end up wound into a thousand knots. How? How does this happen? Are there little people in my bag who tie strings of all sorts into knots all day? Who pays these people? And why?

Hiccups. I recently got to experience the sound of hiccups for a solid two and a half hours. Straight. In a car. Why? Why did this happen?

I like to match my underwear to my clothes. Why does this make me feel happier? No one will ever know about it.

I lost my wallet on Monday. I found it again today. It was in my backpack the whole time. I swear I looked in there at least six times. How? How did I not see it?

I trust foreign cuisine to be more authentic when the person serving me has the appropriate accent. Why? They are clearly not directly involved with the authenticity of the food. That's stupid. Why do I do this?

I like to use bobbypins to pin my hair back when I pull it up. It seems there are 10,000 bobbypins all up in my grill normally. And then, when I need one or two, I can't find any. And I'll look around thinking I swear I had at least ten thousand of these yesterday and then I'll find one. That is broken. How? How is this possible?

Maybe I deserve this for being so unobservant...

2007-10-30T16:48:00.000-06:00

So I ate some soup today.
Campbell's.
Creamy Chicken.

After finishing I noticed that it had expired.
In August.

2006.

Tribute to the slightly green liquid I pass everyday on my way to calculus.

2007-10-26T16:43:00.000-06:00

Confession: when I see an unidentifiable liquid spilled on the ground I automatically assume it's vomit.

Weird, huh.

Scarlett Engraving

2007-10-24T10:37:00.000-06:00

We are filled with secrets. Secrets about all sorts of things. Some people have secrets out of necessity; some people have secrets out of convenience; some people have secrets because it feels good to know something, coyly smiling inward, that no one else knows. We bury our secrets away and hide them from people who care about us, hidden from our families, our friends, our coworkers, ourselves. Some are benign, others are extreme, but all of them mean something to us.
My secret of the day: I have to be tricked into falling in love.

Reminder: Life is Beautiful

2007-10-23T13:14:00.002-06:00

I swear I forget every year. And every year, just like the year before, it happens and I am reminded.
Every year I forget how autumn happens. I don't know how, but somehow the vivid memories of the leaves with their vibrant colors and melancholy demeanors fade from the forefront of my mind. I struggle to recall exactly the experience of standing in front of water, ripling with the ushering of the wind, as leaves bounce off of my body, blowing to the ground, pausing only to spin once or twice in the air.
I forget the unrivaled prowress of a world collapsing. An entire ecosystem is terminally ill and has only a few weeks to live.
I think fall says something about death. Fall says something about how intensely beautiful something can become when its life is being taken from it, how death might be terrible but dying is incredible. Maybe everything is more beautiful when it faces its downfall. Love is more passionate when you know it cannot last, scenery is more beautiful when you're watching it fade, relationships seem more perfect as you see their demise.

If only we all were dying, but not actually facing death. Maybe my life would become less dramatic, more exhilarating, less bogged down with inane tasks, more brimming with opportunity, less painful and more full of love.

No, these aren't directed at you; stop being so vain.

2007-10-18T13:43:00.000-06:00

I have a few things to say to a few people.
*ahem*

To the girl I saw while walking into the TSC who paused her cell phone conversation to tell me my shoes were cute:
I gave you a weird look because that was kind of a weird thing to do. And you talk over-emphatically. But I really did appreciate the comment. And yes, those shoes are very cute.

To the boy who sat next to me and started talking to the girl on the other side of him:
Hey, moron. I saw you there. You saw me there. Don't pretend like we didn't sit next to each other literally every Tuesday and Thursday for an entire semester and that you don't know my name. That's just tomfoolery. And yes, it's fine that we both decided that each other was weird. Because you are weird. (Fine, so am I. But you're weirder.)

To the boy who hit on me in the library at 11:34 p.m.:
No, I wasn't interested. Really. I swear I wasn't checking you out in that group study room, either. I was honestly just thinking about how to differentiate a logarithmic equation and realized I was zoning into your area; for that I apologize. But, really? I'm in the "Quiet Study" side of the library, and I have been there for four hours, at 11:30 on a Wednesday night. Do you really think I wanted to be hit on?

To the girl who sat next to me on the shuttle bus:
I'm sorry that I eavesdropped on your cell phone conversation, but you were talking really loud. And gossipy. I couldn't help myself.

To everyone that I don't feel like talking to:
No, I didn't actually get a text; I just didn't feel like looking up and saying hi. No offense.

To the boy who I was walking behind on my way to my car:
Ha ha! I totally saw you pick your nose. Don't deny it. There's no need. I don't judge you at all.

Wow. I feel a lot better. I could go on like this for hours...

A little propaganda

2007-10-16T00:39:00.001-06:00

Here's a little flashback from the past in the form of two videos that you should definitely invest a few minutes in watching. The first is a fine little piece of propaganda brought to us by the Cold War - it's all about how to prepare for a nuclear attack, and how you can protect yourself. I watched, I loved, I laughed, I cried. I believe you might experience a similar reaction.
The second video is a rather controversial ad created for the Lyndon B Johnson presidential campaign. It's a little more extreme, a lot more macabre, but equally humorous.
These were originally shown to me in a class, but they recently surfaced from the recesses of my memory because of school vouchers. I was on the shuttle bus on my way to campus when I realized that the radio talk show being played over the intercom wasn't actually a talk show, it was an anti-school voucher ad. Such trickery! Political proganda, tsk tsk.
I hope you enjoy them!

Friday Night

2007-10-12T20:06:00.000-06:00

I'm sitting on my bed, nursing my friend back to health (I'm guessing it's the flu), and we're watching baseball because she likes it. She's surprisingly demanding when she's sick., and also childish. If only I could tape some of the comments she's said tonight. At one point the conversation went something like this (keep in mind all her words are slurred together and she's talking like she's four):

Ailing One: So I called my mom at home. She didn't answer. So I called her house. And she didn't answer. So then I called my little sister and she answered. And she was at the game. And she didn't know where my mom was.
Me: Why did you want to talk to your mom?
Ailing One: So then I called my little sister again. And I said "Oh. I didn't mean to call you again." And then I called my dad. And he thought I was my sister and he said "No, I already told you I'm not at the game." And I said "No, this is your oldest daughter."
Me: That sounds tough.
Ailing One: And then he told me that he was going hunting and he didn't know where my mom was.
Me: So why did you want to call your mom?
Ailing One:And then I hung up. And then I called my dad again but I didn't mean to so I said "I didn't mean to call you again." And then I called my mom again.

Communication is key to any friendship, I think. Fortunately, NyQuil makes communication very easy.

Just a note or two on baseball:
I've never been a big baseball fan. I played softball for a couple of summers in my youth and eventually quit the team because I was so bad I became a pariah among athletes (that's when I created the rule that I still live by that I like to call 'Dione-Shall-Never-Play-On-Any-Organized-Sports-Team-of-Any-Kind'. It's a rule I swear by).
However, if I had no exposure to baseball at all during my life and I sat down to watch this game I think I would be, first off, extremely confused. Secondly, I would be very bored. And thirdly, I would be convinced that I would never date a baseball fan. The first is completely valid because baseball is an extremely complicated sport. The second is valid because (except when someone is explaining to me what's going on and why I should be interested) baseball is boring to me. The last conclusion I'd come to would be apparent after noticing the 534th erectile dysfunction commercial. Seriously, I don't know what kind of demographic watches baseball games consistently, but apparently they need medicinal help with a few certain things.
Just saying.

My Kegger

2007-10-11T13:26:00.000-06:00

On, this day,

the eleventh of October,

in the year of our Lord, two-thousand and seven,

Dione Garlick,

drink from the keg of glory!

I am a grammar champion. You might recall another blog referring to a certain competitive nature that became apparent during a grammar game. If you do, you will be pleased to note that I have achieved a solid win on team grammar.
I am currently enjoying the spoils of my victory, which include two Reece's peanut butter cups, four tootsie rolls, and the pleasure of mocking the losing teams.

Unrelatedly, there is a man on campus. He has been stationed in the center of an intersection of several walkways on a popular part of campus. I've walked by him three times and each time I see him handing out pamphlets of some sort to every student who walks by. And then I am stuck in a conundrum. I am really curious to see what these pamphlets are about, I've see students walking and reading them all day long. However, I don't want him to give me one. I've tried - unsuccessfuly - to sneak below his radar; he's just so ambitious in pusuring every person walking by. He's offered me a pamphlet every time and every time I've said no.
But I really want to know what it says!

Am I a bad person for laughing really hard at this?

2007-10-03T17:23:00.003-06:00

My little sister's birthday is coming up, and it's so hard to shop for her! But I think I've finally found the perfect gift.

When It's Raining I Feel More Alive

2007-10-01T20:49:00.000-06:00

Every time I walked outside today it started to rain.

I can't help but think the sky was crying for me.

Notification of Sorry

2007-09-27T14:13:00.000-06:00

I am competitive.
Apparently.

I realized this today when I was literally standing on my chair in one of my classes; I was caught in the throes of a vicious citation competition, harshly shouting out, "No! It's parentheses, author's last name, year, parentheses and THEN the period!"
During this competition I also:
1 - Cheated. At least three times.
2 - Failed to feel bad about or even hide the fact that I was cheating.
3 - Had increased heart beat. I wasn't sitting at all. I started sweating. (Do not judge me.)
3 - Distracted the team next to me so they lost points for an incorrect page number - because they couldn't hear the correct one above my loud, misleading slew of random numbers.

As bad as I am with citations and competitions in general, I think I am at my worst with Scrabble. Nothing gets me riled up like speed Scrabble. I will sling my worst insults and pout for weeks on end if I loose a full on match. Even if I'm winning, but have bad letters, I'll be ornery for at least a day.

Thus I'm going to take a moment to apologize to all the people at whom I have:

yelled/screamed
thrown derogatory comments
thrown any piece or whole of the Scrabble board, pieces, or any auxiliary objects sitting around the game board
been rude to for weeks at a time because of any lost games
directed my chicaneries by cheating and pretending something was a word, when in fact it was not
spoken mocking comments about the inanities of their words just because they had a higher score.
kicked, punched, tackled, or otherwise injured physically.

This is your official notification of sorry. Do with it what you will. But don't expect the outcome of our Scrabble games to be any different, or for me to apologize ever again. About anything.

Thanks!

Poppin a Tart

2007-09-21T12:03:00.001-06:00

Yesterday I went downstairs to grab some breakfast before I ran off to school (I am using the descriptive words "grab" and "ran" to show the reader just how hurried my mornings usually are). I was also late. I opened my cupboard and found the best breakfast of all time, which is - of course - a S'mores Pop Tart. However, I knew if I waited for it to toast, I would be late for work. Then I remembered that you can microwave Pop Tarts! And then I remembered that my microwave is broken. Then I remembered the wonder that is Brian Regan and his bit about pop tarts.

I literally didn't have time to toast a pop tart. Apparently, Brian, I need to "loosen up my schedule", I should "pick up some Montana brochures or something". I've posted this segment here. Please watch it. It will make you laugh with joy.

What I Learned In School Today: Deep Thoughts by Dione Garlick

2007-09-19T18:50:00.001-06:00

I had a few classes today during which I found myself learning (shocking I know).

I'm in a computer science class. You heard me. Computer. Science.
No, I'm not joking.
Yes, I have to take this for my major.
Yes, I'm in the minority of my classes because 1) I am a girl and 2) I do not play warcraft for at least six hours per day.

Today in computer science I realized the best way to learn computer science: by doing it. They write textbooks to prod you along in the right direction, but generally you just have to try different programs and see if they work out.
I submit this facet of computer science is what makes it so successful. You can screw up. In fact, it's almost better if you do. You're not afraid of forgetting a semicolon at the end of statement because if you run the program and it doesn't work all you have to do is figure out the problem. If only everything was that way. Medicine, for example, could greatly benefit from experimentation. Life in general would be better if there was no penalty for mistakes. Decisions you make. Places you go, people you let in your life. If they didn't work out like you'd hoped well then - just go back and edit that statement line.

For example, a boy asks you on a date. You say yes, because hey! Experiment. And then, wow, it really didn't turn out like you'd hoped. Just edit your response to him, run the program over. Done and done. You could edit out whole relationships, vacations you took, tests you bombed, the time you ate meat at Beto's, anything!

(Clearly this wouldn't work out. Literally nothing would be spontaneous anymore and that would be a problem. People would go around doing virtually anything, and then just editing their actions. But stop thinking about that. I demand it. )

And thus, I'll admit, I like computer science.

Feel Good, Inc

2007-09-10T20:49:00.001-06:00

I've started this new thing lately where I make myself feel better by reading Chuck Norris facts and inserting my name in place of Chuck's. Listen:

Dione Garlick doesn't do pushups. She pushes the world down.

It has a nice ring, doesn't it? Try this one:

Dione Garlick's tears cure cancer. Too bad Dione Garlick has never cried. Ever.

Naturally not all of them work out so nicely. For example:

There is no chin under Dione Garlick's beard, only another fist.

Hmm... Interesting.
But you really should try putting your name there. It does wonders for your self esteem.

Hopefully this is going to give me a redefined sense of self. Maybe I'll walk down the streets and whenever I see wrongdoing I'll roundhouse kick someone to the face. Hey, I might even start growing a beard. I see this bringing great things to my future. You better watch your back, Jack Bauer.

My Butt Minus

2007-09-09T13:59:00.001-06:00

I'm glad someone appreciates flat buns. Sometimes I just feel so discriminated against...

I have three complaints.

2007-09-06T14:43:00.000-06:00

Complaint 1: I fell victim to peer pressure and ate a baconator. Wow. That was an incredibly bad decision. I think I'm sweating out crisco. I think my whole office needs to go on a cardiac arrest watch program.

Complaint 2: I bought my shoes anywhere from .5-1 size too small. What the -- was I thinking? Did I suddenly, honestly believe that my feet were smaller? I literally have no rational decision making capabilities.

Complaint 3: I have the most unique headache. It hurts at the bottom of my hairline and I think I might be any combination of the following:

Far too much caffiene
Far too little sleep
A poor diet consisting mainly of baconator
Laughing too hard at my boss's poop stories.
Sleeping in weird positions
Chewing gum virtually all the time
Whacking my head into my TV last night

Ok, that's all I can think of as far as reasons for the headache goes. Feel free to give me any suggestions as to more. I'll keep brainstorming as well.

Procrasting? Why. I would never.

2007-09-06T00:36:00.001-06:00

"Dione, you even procrastinate going to bed."
Funny, that's exactly what I'm doing.
Today i learned the following life lessons:

procrastination is a big problem for a lot of people. That makes me comforted because I am not alone, but also depressed because I'm not unique either.

telling a procrastinator to 'just get a day planner' is like telling a depressed person to just cheer up.
how to program a computer. Currently the program I wrote calculates the cost of concrete per cubic foot according to data imputed by the user. (I'm so proud of myself)
that I really like what I am studying. And class and studying is actually not so bad if you find it interesting.
presenting in front of other people is easy. Confidence is key. There is no reason to be overly afraid of any presentation unless you're radically unprepared.
no matter how mad someone is at you, they can always be won over by skirting around the subject of conflict and by being overly kind to them.
loosing something that's important to you can throw off the balance of your entire existence.
I'm bad at spelling the word "existence".
I'm bad at typing the word "Constitutional".
there's nothing wrong with ballroom dance.

So here I am. My bum has fallen asleep because I'm sitting at such an awkward angle. I have roughly three assignments I should be completing at this very moment but here I am. Blogging. What more menial task could exist than this? I submit that blogging is the lowest rung on my ladder of very unimportant tasks with which I could be procrastinating.

Well, I'm tired. I think I'll go to bed now and save my homework for the morning. Yes, that sounds like a good idea to me.

NYC

2007-07-27T13:56:00.000-06:00

So I'm vacationing in New York with my family. Just as I predicted, it's fabulous - and also hilarious. Let me introduce the players:
Dad: All business-y, yet comic and extroverted. Also is currently going through a mid-life crisis which requires him to wear only "Ruehl's" clothing, something akin to Abercrombie & Fitch (If you don't believe me you should check their porno website). Perfect.
Mom: Quirky and unconcerned. Loves shopping (and Ruehl's as well). Really just wants to make her children happy.
Me: Please. Like I'm well-rounded enough to make a moderately accurate, yet cynically biting two to three sentence analysis of myself? Come on. This is a blog.
"Jibby": The queen of... well, quite a lot. Let's just say if my parents were much, much wealthier and much, much less concerned about her well being my sister could easily be Lindsey Lohan. Eek!
Chet: A.k.a. "Poogs" (long story). The sweet one. Pretty much one of the kindest people in this world. And it's a distinct possibility that he's already smarter than I am. Did I mention that he's ten?

So that's essentially what I've been bouncing around with for the past four days. As if New York weren't entertaining enough - throw in my crazy family and it's suddenly ten times better.
Here's a brief list of my favorite NYC signs thus far:

"Don't Even Think About Parking Here"
"No Unnecessary Noise" Can't you just see it?

Police: You just made a loud noise! How necessary was it?
Blond victim: Well, my boyfriend just hit me.
Police: Hmm. How hard?

At a dog park: "No Dogs Without People No People Without Dogs"

Jibby the diva became tired while we were shopping around SoHo and instantly became a massive grouch. We stopped to get a refreshing beverage in an attempt to lift her spirits to bring her orneriness to a tolerable level. We were staring at fridge full of drinks and this conversation ensued:
Mom: Just pick out something that you want.
Jib: Can I get naked?
Mom: Sure!
Tragically, she was referring to Naked juice.