Queen of Nonsense

One year, seven months, and ten days later....

2010-12-11T18:37:00.004-05:00

Hi.

So a fantastic friend politely asked me last night why I don't blog anymore. I didn't have an answer. And HRH has been kindly suggesting for many a blue moon that I jump back on the blogging train. Well, turning one year older yesterday may or may not have made me wiser (time will tell if that is in fact the case), but I do have a few resolutions of mine that I want to pursue for the coming year of my life. So with that spirit of perseverance, penance, and plenty to say, I stretched out my finger muscles, did a few warm up typing exercises (Hello, Twitter and as my Dad says, "tweetering"), and I believe I am ready to say hi and to reacquaint myself with my poor, neglected blog and with all two of you who still have me in your feeds. :)

To not spend too long trying to inadequately capture everything that has happened since I blogged last, here's the cliff notes version:

In the last year/near future, I
(1) still live in Toronto
(2) passed my comprehensive exams
(3) met and married a Torontonian man
(4) grew my hair out
(5) fell in love with the public library system
(6) am teaching an Intro to Marketing course next semester,(7) successfully mastered the art of baking a multilayered cake
(8) bought a Christmas tree and its ornamental fixings.

Okay, so some of those things are a little more awesome or life-changing than others (*ahem* like buying a Christmas tree - nothing says you are an adult like purchasing your own tree and ornaments), but that's life as I know it right now. Married, living on a student budget, sitting under the lights of her Christmas twinkle lights, with the public library to keep me entertained when I need a break from the studying/class prepping, and lots of sugar to keep me up while I work on the evil thing that shall not be named on this blog. (Hint: Starts with "d" and rhymes with missertation...which is derived from the root word of miserable.)

So, I don't know what has/will take you to my blog, and I don't know what I have to offer you to keep you entertained on a consistent basis (which, if you do want some day-to-day happies, check out TheShoeologist.com or Pinksuedeshoe.com - two blogs by two amazing friends of mine who also happen to be twin sisters, and I don't think it's a coincidence that they both rock. I read their blogs daily and find much to enjoy!). I'm not crafty, though I want to learn how to be. I'm not a fabulous photographer, though if I could pick a hobby that I would totally rock at, that would probably be it. I'm not a fantastic chef, though I do love to bake goodies that bring smiles and happies to those around me. I'm not the girl who can do it all and be it all, and by so doing, share the secrets of successful living, though if I could, I would share every secret with you without reservation. I don't have adorable children that I can show doing adorable things, though if I did, I just might be tempted to sing their adorable praises.

I may not be all the things that I wish I could be and by extension relate the coolness of my life with you. But what I can do is just be me. And so what does that mean for you and what you can expect on this blog? Here's the recipe. (see? I'd love to share recipes. But I need to learn and use them first. So hold that thought and hope for the best for my culinary pursuits):

ME =
* a heaping tablespoon of honesty* a teaspoon of witty neuroticism
* a dash of self-reflection and ponderings on life's oddities, twists, and pitfalls
* 1/4 of a cup of giggles
* 2/3 of a cup of questions that I have yet to answer for myself
* a pinch of cultural references
* a heaping portion of parentheses (because that's just how I roll)
* a sprinkling of gratitude
* with everything baked in a pan of random nonsense

I can't guarantee what the next year will bring in my life or on this blog, but what I can promise is that I will be me, and I will do my best to consistently share mewith you. And if your recipe of life being similar to mine and as such you jive with me, or if you just want to join in the randomness that so often besets life, I hope you come back and visit.

And so....with that....let's begin.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

'Tis the season to be jolly! If you aren't in the Christmas spirit and find yourself relating more to the Grinch than Cindy Lou Who, I suggest watching "The Muppet Christmas Carol." It's a delightful rendition of the classic Scrooge story, with hilarious one-liners, catchy tunes, and one scene that makes me laugh every year without fail. This scene is one you will miss if you're not careful - but is worth the price of the movie all by itself. When the Ghost of Christmas Present takes Scrooge to the streets of London to sing about how it feels like Christmas, there is a street missionary band playing along...and one of the little players whacks another one in the face with his bell. The poor "belled" player falls over, and when he gets up, he has these "angry eyes" that mean business. He proceeds to chew out the other player and then takes it up a notch and begins to head butt him until the scene is over. Classic. Love it. Watch it here, with the aforementioned scene starting at the 1:57 mark. My family has watched this show together every Christmas for probably the past ten years, and have lovingly dubbed him as "Angry Eyes." And if I somehow fall asleep while watching it during the season, I will rewind specifically to that part. Is that somewhat silly of me? Perhaps. But when I need to get into the spirit, this scene in particular and show in general is a surefire way of bypassing the caroling and crowds and jumping into the joy of Christmas. So cheers for the Muppet jolly, gentle readers!

And with that, I leave you with a question/plea for help. I'm celebrating my first Christmas with my husband and I will not be going home, and I don't want to spend the holidays curled up in a corner wishing I was home with my family. So I need Christmas cheer and Christmas traditions to start in my new family. Which leads me to my question:

What are your Christmas traditions that you couldn't live without that inevitably invite the Christmas spirit?

Ooh...pretty

2009-05-01T11:37:00.000-04:00

A friend of mine is hosting a give-away on her blog, http://sherbetblossom.blogspot.com/2009/05/pandora-giveaway.html. I highly suggest checking it out, because the bracelet is totally girly pretty!

Masculinity & The Media

2009-03-31T11:15:00.000-04:00

The Bittersweets.

2009-02-07T13:15:00.000-05:00

Sometimes, around this time of year, you just need a good laugh, with a hint of sarcasm, an a twinge of truth, a pinch of an alternative perspective, and something for the sweet tooth. Thank you, despair.com. Really. Thank you.

Quotable Quotes

2009-02-01T21:42:00.000-05:00

I was reading a qualitative analysis article this weekend. Exciting life I lead, eh? Anyway, I was slogging my way through the 40+ page literary adventure and rightfully tuning in and out at random intervals, though the pages magically kept on being turned, when I found a truly gem of a quote that I think should be shared with all: "The sensation of being bored is usually a signal that you have ceased to think." Dare I say, how true is that? I read that sentence and burst into giggles because I had thought just 30 seconds before how bored I was reading that article. Obviously I had ceased to think, without recognizing that my higher mental operations had recently terminated. Opportune timing for a quippy, and highly applicable quote. I wonder - what other quotes are there that speak to us - or perhaps make us, or those in our close proximity, giggle at opportune moments?

May I offer some examples to get us thinking:

"Marks for trying, George, but I would not allow you to redress my deficit were you the last man on Earth." ("Lost in Austen") - Try using that on someone sometime and see what type of reaction you get. Come on. I triple dog dare you.

"Patience, Grasshopper." (Gilmore Girls - *moment of silence for the yesteryears of quality Gilmore-dom and quick-witted dialogue*)

"Ain't this a geographical oddity. It's two weeks from anywhere." ("O Brother Where Art Thou")

"I'm sorry, Father, but the truth is, this is not my day for talking seriously." "Well, what do you mean, sir?" "I mean that I only talk seriously on the first Tuesday of every month, between the hours of noon and three." ("An Ideal Husband")

"Fashion is what one wears oneself. What is unfashionable is what other people wear. Other people are quite dreadful. The only possible society is oneself. To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance." ("An Ideal Husband" - having just one from this show would be criminal.)

"One always passes along good advice. It's the only sensible thing to do with it." ("An Ideal Husband." Okay - to stop at just two would be negligence in the highest order)

"I do not approve of anything that tampers with natural ignorance. Ignorance is like a delecate, exotic fruit. Touch it, and the bloom is gone. The whole theory of modern education is radically unsound. Fortunately in England, at any rate, education produces no effect whatsoever. If it did it would prove a serious threat to the upper classes, and probably lead ot acts of violence in Grosvenor Square." (The Importance of Being Earnest")

"You're talking gibberish." ("That Thing You Do")

"Savvy?" ("Pirates of the Caribbean")

"Today, you will have the honor of playing one of the greatest game ever. A game of skill, agility, cunning. A game with one simple rule: DODGE.". . . "The whistle makes me their God." ("Supernatural." Dean. In gym shorts. Tube socks. Red sweatband. Posing as a high school gym teacher. Pure unexpected joy on a Thursday night, let me tell you.)

"It is a truth, universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a large fortune must be in want of a wife." (Do I really need to tell you what this is from? Really?)

Person #1: "Question." Person #2: "Yes, I would date Gregory Smith." (Me. This is a me quote. Shameless self-promotion, I know. But this one consistently gets entertaining reactions when used in everyday conversation.)

I am Prince Caspian." (Okay, once again, do I need to put the movie? Yeah. No. But you may be thinking, "when could I ever use this in everday life? Even if you don't say this to anyone, say it outloud when you're feeling down with a sissy Spanish accent, and it will work its magic. Trust me.)

"Ham Porter: Hey, Smalls, you wanna s'more?
Smalls: Some more of what?
Ham Porter: No, do you wanna s'more?
Smalls: I haven't had anything yet, so how can I have some more of nothing?
Ham Porter: You're killing me Smalls!" ("The Sandlot")

And for the "Psych" montage: "I've been having this recurring dream where I'm flying over Auckland on the back of a swan made primarily of cocoa. His name is Clem." "My pilot's license? It's out back in the Cessna. Or perhaps you're referring to my license to kill. Revoked - problems at the Kazakhstan border. I'd give you the details, but then I'd have to kill you... which I can't do because my license to kill has been revoked." "Rally the horses, Jules. We're about to crack your case like an egg. And then we can make umlauts with shallots.... and justice." "Can you check for a John Doe, please? Actually, can you check all the does? Tae-quon, cookie, play, dosee..." "Shawn, this misplaced malevolence you have with the spelling bee is getting monotonous. Stop hating on the bee." "Shawn: Well, at least that gives us the "how". Now we just gotta figure out the "why", which reminds me, Gus, will you please get us those tickets for The Who? Gus: Where?" "You're killing my Jujubees!" "I'm sensing some bad jujumagumbo in here!" "Yes but what isn’t clear is why people always say “goes with out saying” yet still feel compelled to say the thing that was suppose to go with out saying." "The Cheetah is the worst name for a pickup line in the history of mankind. Remember, you treat a woman like a person, then a princess, then a greek goddess, and then a person again. Besides, I think Operation Colonel Sugarlemons is a much better move for a place like this." "That's like a genocide of color... somewhere a rainbow is weeping." "Shawn: Wanna split a pineapple? Alice Bundy: I'm sorry, do I know you?
Shawn: My name is Ichibod Fletchman. Sticky Icky to my boys. But that's neither here nor there. What's important is that this baby is 82% Hawaiian and I've got all afternoon. Alice Bundy: Are you a crazy person? Shawn: It's funny I was about to ask you the same thing. Only I was going to add "who likes to make toast" to the end of mine." "Gus: You named your fake detective agency "Psych?" Why didn't you just call it "Hey, we're fooling you and the police department; hope we don't make a mistake and somebody dies because of it."
Shawn: First of all, Gus, that name is entirely too long; it would never fit on the window. And secondly, the best way you convince people you're not lying to them is to tell them you are!" "We love you like a brother, well step-brother. Ok maybe like the weird kid that lives down the street and only eats mayonnaise on saltines."

Now. What are your quotable quotes?

My Life in Photos: Part 2

2009-01-03T15:12:00.000-05:00

When I left Toronto to go home for Christmas, there was hardly any snow on the ground. I came back and was suddenly grateful for the giant boots and fur-trimmed coat my parents graciously bought me in Utah, though I do feel about 40 pounds heavier when I wear them. But they did allow me to take these photos on a brisk, sunny (hooray! love the sun!) afternoon.

The pond by my apartment is populated in the summer with Canadian geese. If they're smart or at least have a semi-functioning internal time table, they've left for the winter. The paths along campus are shockingly snow-covered, and even parts of the paths are closed for the winter. Who knew? I personally like the bucket-filled-with-salt-snow-removal-system.

My life in photos: Part 1

2009-01-03T14:56:00.000-05:00

So, I have a new toy. A red one. It's shiny. And it's red. It takes pretty pictures. And it falls within the red chromatic area. Unfortunately, because it's my new camera, I can't take a picture of it. But just imagine. Red. Oh yes, I love it. But the best part of it is that I can finally take pictures of where I'm living and what it looks like up here in the arctic tundra also known as Toronto. Let me introduce you to what I see most days: my apartment. It's a bachelor apartment, with just enough for me to mess up with articles and yoga balls.

Each photo is a view from a different part of my room. So it probably looks a bit bigger than it is, but there ya go. The last one is the view from my third floor window. In the summer, it's pretty with all the trees and leaves. Imagine my surprise when I realized how close the buildings were to me when the leaves fell!

Tolerable, I suppose...

2008-11-30T22:54:00.000-05:00

Take the Quiz here!

What the....strike?

2008-11-06T09:56:00.000-05:00

So, Canada is not the US of A. I'm figuring this out day by day, bit by bit. However, this latest piece of information that goes into this ongoing list of differences has me confused and slightly concerned. My university went on strike this morning. Apparently there are unions that cover different employees on campus - one of which covers the teaching assistants, graduate assistants, and contract faculty. And apparently, they have been underpaid - at least they believe they have been. Erego, a strike has commenced and almost all of the university's courses have been cancelled for the duration of the strike. Except for mine. Yup, the graduate business school courses are still running, but since there are picket lines, they have the right to detain you for up to ten minutes. This is going to be interesting. Thankfully, the times I usually drive off campus are outside their picket line hours, so we should be okay. But still - universities can go on strike? More than 50,000 students can have their classes canceled? Doesn't this seem counterintuitive for the an educational institution to cancel the educating part of their operations? Gee whiz.

Dream Come True...Sort of.

2008-11-02T00:07:00.000-04:00

Way back when I was blogging somewhat consistently (yes, there was a time.....), I mentioned that my one dream in life was to be Elphaba in a Broadway production of "Wicked." This Halloween, that partially happened. The Elphaba part, that is. I got the hat, the green skin, the glasses, the whole black ensemble....it was great! A little slimy, and definitely goopy going on, but it was fun to look in the mirror and not recognize myself. And while getting the green off was a pain in the most extreme way and I couldn't touch anything without leaving my greenie mark, I had a blast. This only made my dream to be Elphaba on Broadway even more....salient. And real. *insert cackle here* Happy Halloween to All! (I'm the one in the green.....if you needed some help there. Also featured is my friend Aryana as the Scarecrow, and Karina as Audrey Hepburn)

Marco......Hey Marco....Are you there, Marco...it's me, your blog!

2008-10-29T21:29:00.000-04:00

Okay, so. It's October. I hope that is not a surprise for most of you, but it was for me. Especially when I now look at the calendar and realize that October will soon be November. And when I look out the window and see white puffy bits falling in a blustery fashion to the ground. What in the heckfire happened to the fall? And more to the point, what in the heckfire happened to the blogger responsible for this sadly neglected , pobre blog? Well, to be brief, I was consumed by paper. Yes, paper. Paper ate me. And it ate me whole! Many times over! How can paper eat me, you might wonder...well, for those of you who don't know, I'm now a Toronto-ian, and part of a marketing PhD program. I've learned a number of valuable lessons and experienced a variety of side-effects of being part of this new intellectual clan. I want to share them with you, just in case one of you gentle readers is considering returning to school in the higher education system. So now I present to you, in no particular order, the top ten knowledge nuggats I've learned since being in a PhD program:
(1) You are now an enemy to the environment because you are always printing off 20 page articles in large quantities, so any and all efforts to go "Green" are futile. Sorry, friend.
(2) You will be the proud owner of 4 pairs of glasses because you will go blind at an exponential rate.
(3) The highlight of your days are your five minute snack break (frozen blueberries, blackberries and raspberries - yum!) and you realize you have come full circle to your pre-school self, where the day is divided into sections by the much needed and desired snack breaks. Suddenly you will feel very young again. And very old. This will cause a headache. Take 2 IBProfen with your snack and forge ahead with the homework, because time is up!
(4) You now understand and can use in a somewhat intelligent fashion the words ontology, epistemology, axiology, phenomenology, existentialism...and you feel special. You then realize how few people there are in the world who care that you know and use those words on a regular basis. Suddenly you feel alone. So very alone.
(5) Exercise and legitimate free time are things of the past. Instead, you are constantly plagued with thoughts of things you SHOULD be doing, and those thoughts trump the things you'd RATHER be doing.
(6) PhD programs train you to be critical of other PhD professor's written work that has been published in high-quality, much-respected journals. Your illusions of these professor's greatness is dashed and you feel like you can be equals in the field once you graduate. Then you realize as soon as you publish, others will do the exact same thing to you. Say hello to the joys of peer review.
(7) You start having wild fantasies about the Matrix being real, so that you can jump down the rabbit hole, wake up to the "real" world, and have a somewhat questionable needle apparatus plugged into you and download all the books sitting on your bookshelf. The concept of skimming is suddenly a lifesaver. As is the 4 month check-out policy for the library.
(8) You get used to having a mind-numbing headache everynight, to the point where if you don't have it, you start to wonder if something is wrong and you need to do more reading before bed.
(9) You get excited when you only have to read an article twice to understand more or less what the authors are talking about. Small victories are suddenly precious and rare.
(10) Your life becomes a marathon - physically, emotionally, mentally. Estimated time of completing the marathon? Four years, eight months, five days, three hours, seven minutes. *sigh* And that doesn't seem like enough time.

So, there you have it, blogging world. Life is never easy, and with a new phase beginning, there are always growing pains. It's been a rough couple of months, and to be perfectly honest, blogging hasn't been the highest priority, nor has it been something that I've wanted to do. Sometimes you just need a bit of time before you start opening up about experiences you are having. Hopefully I'll be able to squeeze more blog time in the next while so I can keep y'all posted. But, I'm tired of making empty promises to my blog, so I can only promise to try. And try I will. Cheerio!

Bursting the Eardrums

2008-07-16T01:38:00.000-04:00

So, I have a confession to make. I went to the American Idol Live concert tonight at the 'E' Center. WOW. I have never seen so many blonde itty-bitty-teenie-boppers in my life! And yes, those girls have got some lung power. An hour and a half after we left the arena, my ears are still ringing. It was incredible the amount of deafening noise 10,000 underaged tweeners can make. The best part was that they were so predictably unpredictable. At the mere mention of David Archuleta (affectionately known as Archie to the Idolers), or seeing his face for .024 seconds on a video clip, and they all went into synchronized screaming. I kid not - you couldn't hear the 100,000 amps blasted the drum beat over the amount of ear-splitting noise that the audience created. I imagine it's hard to maintain a healthy perspective on life when you have 10,000 girls ready to marry you...when they...and you....become of age.

All in all, it was an enjoyable evening. I wish I could have heard the music a bit better, but I enjoyed it for the most part. Michael Johns, Brooke White, and Archie were my fav's, just because you could hear what they were singing. David Cook was David Cook. As he was singing and strutting his manly guitar slinging strut up there, all I could think of was that Idol finally picked someone who was just plain "cool" as the winner. Kelly Clarkson, Reuben, Fantasia, Carrie, Taylor, Jordin........and David. Yeah. He stands out in the coolness factor.

Now the question that needs to be answered: "Were I ten years younger, would I have been part of the screaming set wearing my "David would vote for ME" t-shirt? I hope I know the answer to that!

It's Official! I can be Canadian....well. Sort of.

2008-07-15T00:53:00.000-04:00

I've been waiting to get my temporary student visa information back from the Canadian Consulate in Seattle. Incredibly nice chaps, let me tell you. They took my $125 non-refundable Canadian funds bank draft, my forty-two official forms, bank statements, my passport, and letter from York saying that I was indeed accepted to study at the university, and what did I get in return? A happy little envelope with my passport, a receipt for said $125 non-refundable Canadian funds bank draft, and a letter that says at the very top in big, bold, capital letters, and I quote: "YOU MUST SHOW THIS LETTER TO A CANADA CUSTOMS OFFICIAL WHEN YOU FIRST ARRIVE IN CANADA." Ha. "Welcome to the country" I suppose is the sub-text in very very small, minute print. :) But this is exciting because.....yes. I can go. They will let me in to their country and call me one of their temporary own. Next step is getting Pepper Jane to come with me! (That would be my 2004 Ford Escape) As it turns out, they didn't do anything to my passport, but I do get the opportunity to become close friends with an Immigration officer at the border. Hopefully they'll crack a joke with me, because in tense situations, I tend to go just a smidge quippy. I think that could be an interesting day before me.

Life Experience

2008-07-14T00:53:00.001-04:00

So I've been MIA for a while. And yes, that's an overstatement. But such is life, and such has been my life, so let's all shake hands, do the hokey pokey, turn ourselves around, and get this blog going again. Whoa. Dejavu. This must have happened before in my previous blogging life!

Very quickly to give the general update: I'm moving to Toronto in a little over a month to start my PhD program. Yes, that's Toronto, Canada. I shall be Canadian in a few short weeks. And hopefully my car will become Canadian with me (who knew it would almost be harder to import my car than myself???). So I'm in the middle of the preparation tempest. And by tempest, I mean chaos that generally resembles a cyclone in my room. Every day I'm feeling the heebies because I did the exact same thing when I went on my mission. It's not fun trying to pack your life up into a few small boxes that will fit in the cheapest U-Haul trailer and coming to terms with the fact that your Love-sac and rocking chair probably won't make the cut. *sniff sniff* But, the saving grace? My Kitchen-Aid will! Long-live my cookie dough fettish!

I went for a hike yesterday with my aunt and my mother. I loved getting up in the mountains, very quickly becoming dusty and a little sweaty, and hiking amongst the chirping, peppy birds and gorgeously blooming wild flowers. I might have to go again, and soon - and I recommend all go and become one with nature at least once this week! It quiets the soul in a way that the hustle and bustle of suburban life cannot. While on the hike, my aunt asked us a question: "If you could have any experience in the world, what would it be?" After the automatic responses of family, kids, career (which, don't get me wrong - go team on those!) ran through my mind, I was like...HMM. What would I do? My mom answered a kayaking trip for a week. I would totally go with her, kayak blisters and all. My aunt answered climbing K2. I probably wouldn't do that. Going up a mountain just doesn't appeal to me. It's great to accomplish something and look down on the creations of the world, but....if my life can potentially be in peril, I probably won't attempt it. So, she can do that with her hubby. I'll look at their pictures after.

My answer that came to the surface after weeding through those first ones? I would Love, LOVE, love, LOve, loVE to play the part of Elphaba on the West End in London. My answer cracked me up, because quite honestly, I had never thought about it before, but when I said it outloud, I knew it was true. I would adore being able to be part of a play, with a British accent, an adorable co-star who can serenade me until the cows stop mooing, and having the ability to sing my heart out and have it appreciated by others. And in London? Yeah. Well. Let's just say I've found my true love in life. Add that to the fact that I absolutely am enchanted with "Wicked" and the part of Elphaba in particular, and it's a done deal for my dream experience.

I asked my aunt what our answers revealed about us. My auntie said my mom's showed that she wanted to be away from the world and at peace. 'Tis true, because when you're on the water, it's just you. My aunt's showed that she loves and challenge and pushing herself to her limits and seeing those accomplishments. Mine? That I want fame and recognition. Haha. Maybe it's true, but I'd like to think that my dream experience shows how I love the arts and appreciate the opportunity to immerse one's self in the telling of a story. Plus, I'm a spazz. And I like London. Hello. That's a given. And a British accent? I do it without thinking as it is! So, fame and recognition aside, I would love to be able to excel at something artistic and be able to express it. Maybe the applause wouldn't be so bad either............

So what would your dream experience be? And what does that show about you? Just a fun thought to start the week off! Cheerio!

Starbucks and Sugar Cookies

2008-02-15T17:04:00.000-05:00

So, what a week it has been! I have been wanting to blog oh so very much. But, unfortunately for me, the weather patterns haven’t permitted it. You remember my super weather barometer power? Oh yes. They struck again this week. More like struck me down. We’re on Day 3 now of mental impairment status and I hope it will get better before I even begin to consider a Day 4…..or 5. Or heaven forbid 6. It’s actually quite entertaining – more so to be around me, I think, because I can’t remember anything. For example, yesterday in the Arby’s drive through, I paid with my debit card. I put the card back down. A minute later, I asked my brother – “Did I pay already?” He looked at me a little funny…that’s kind of where I’m at mentally. I don’t even have a one-track mind! I’m on a quarter of a track. Or a broken track. A snowed in track? I’m all befuddled, I tell you. And to think I made fun of my mom when she would ask me if she had taken IBProfen or just thought about it. Silly me.

So this last week was most eventful. First, let’s start with the most recent. Happy Belated Valentine’s Day to all! I hope you all had smashingly great V-days. Mine was quite entertaining. I made sugar cookies with frosting for the engineers I work with – I think I was the only one who remembered it was V-day. I just hope they remembered for their wives’ sakes! Maybe my cookies were the gentle nudge they needed. Anyway, work was work. Can’t get around that 8-5 gig. And then I went to pick up my brother from work and we went in search of good food. We both wanted sandwiches or some sort, so we went to the Toaster Oven. Um, no. They didn’t even have fries. Not cool. So we went to Arby’s, where I had my forgettable forgetfulness moment. We jetted back home, where we set up camp to watch “What I Like About You” and eat our deliciously good curly fries and sandwiches. Then I get a phone call from HRH to set up our tea time at this adorable newish store near our homes. It’s seriously a little girl’s play heaven, complete with a bakery and tea! So of course, with no boyfriend to take up my time, what would be a better use than drinking afternoon tea with an amazing friend in a pink, poofy heaven? Perfect! Almost! They close at 6:00! And darn it, HRH was still in Provo at 5:40. Well, our pink, poofy heaven will have to wait. We readjusted plans and went to Starbucks where I had this YUMMY Caramel Apple Spice drink. Oh. My. Divine. Seriously, it was like drinking apple crumb cake and I was in taste-bud bliss. I definitely recommend it. I mean, I had visions of myself frequenting Starbucks now. Me. Becoming a Starbuckian. All for Caramel Apple Spice. Okay, moving on because no one should swoon over their beverage this much. Anyway, we chatted about our days and decided that we absolutely had to watch an edited “Love Actually.” My cousin has it, but she lives about a half-hour away and we would have to steal her ClearPlay, too. So we settled for Move Option B: whatever else I had at my house. HRH went to get herself some real food (well, I don’t know if you can count Panda Express as real food) and I went home, quickly frosted cookies, and became the Cookie Cupid, delivering cookies to my aunt and uncle, and a friend my mom usually takes flowers to, but because my mom is in CALIFORNIA (SO. JEALOUS.) right now, I took cookies in her place. Then I raced back to the house, where HRH had let herself in and eaten her food (I love that we can do that here), and we settled in to decide the movie. This is an important decision. I mean, it’s V-day. What should we watch? Our memories will hinge on this movie? We narrowed it down to four options: Dear Frankie (Gerard!!!), Win a Date with Tad Hamilton, Step Up, and She’s the Man. Um, yes, the latter two have something in common – and that would be Channing Tatum. His acting is a little sketchy, but…um….nobody cares. For good reason! We hemmed and hawed, weighed our options, analyzed the guy factors, and decided on She’s the Man. Excellent choice. I love that movie and every time I watch it, I love it more. Or maybe that should be, I love HIM more. *Sigh* He is what V-Day dreams are made of. Haha. Anyway, it was a most enjoyable evening (thank you HRH!) and I ended the day in my bed, my room illuminated with twinkle lights, and watching an episode of Gilmore Girls. Can a day be any better than that? Nah, I don’t think so. At least not for me. So, Happy V-day to you all – I hope your days were as good as mine! And let me say, it was not hard to beat last year’s V-day. I was in Argentina and spent the rainy day stuck in a house with 16 other girls. Yeah. This one definitely wins.

Okay, my brain is swiftly shutting down. Let me make a list of other things to blog about to remind myself later tonight or tomorrow when I recommence with this blogging:

1) The CURSED Saturday
2) Winter White Outs
3) The Sad Sunday
4) Alone, Doing Laundry, and Lovin’ It – A Rory Friday Night

Be good, be happy, and be ready for my next blogs! They're coming! (wow - that was not meant to sound ominous...)

xoxo - LADYBUG. (Yup - LB beat out Half-Pint).

And my new nickname is...

2008-02-05T22:53:00.000-05:00

So, I'm catching up on old emails and checking out websites for the latest political poll results and entertainment news (I lead a very small life), and I come across this section on ABC's website - Lost Nicknames - and can I say, WOW. I'm easily entertained. Because this made me giggle for like five minutes. Now, if any of you have watched the show Lost, you'll know there is this surly, quippy, and devilishly man-handsome beach castaway named Sawyer. (SEE EXHIBIT A ----------->)

Real name James Ford. Assumed name is Sawyer. Anyway, his backstory as to how he attached himself to his nickname is quite unfortunate and somewhat disturbing - but he takes his nicknaming talent and applies it to the castaways. Kate is no longer Kate, but Freckles. The list goes on. You catch my drift. Anyway, he was one of the reasons why I watched this show first season (I've since "Lost" my interest - I mean, they killed off Charlie by drowning him. Uncool. Supremely uncool. Erego I rebel.). And now ABC is catching on to the fact that his nicknames are awesome, so they've made a little program that generates nicknames for you, signed *heart* Sawyer. And he looks all "come hither", too. Gotta love marketing. The three questions are great - name, physical appearance, and mental capability. And poof! You get a nickname! The most hilarious part is that you put in the same information every time, and every time you get a new nickname. It's basically NickName Central! Hurray!

See, I've had this problem in life. I name other people things. I name inanimate objects things (my car? Pickle Jean). But only one person has come up with a nickname that stuck, and that's my aunt, and heaven forbid I ever say what that nickname is. Sorry, folks. Learn to live with the suspense, because I'm not saying a word! So, when I came to this website, I realized- "HUZZAH! I can have a nickname straight from a reliable source!" My logic isn't always logical, okay? After running through the Sawyer Mill a few times, I came up with some good ones and want to put it to your vote as to which one should stick. You be the judge! Or come up with your own and let me know!

The choices are (and I kid you not):

1. Captain Lou Albino

2. Avalanche

3. Ladybug

4. Einstein

5. Half-Pint

I love the Captain Lou Albino - and that's because I'm the Queen of Nonsense, and that is most definitely nonsense. So help, bloggers! Name me!

Comfort Blogging

2008-01-23T00:53:00.000-05:00

Okay, the need for blogging has arisen because snow is falling ONCE AGAIN outside my office window. Why that means it is blogging time, I don't know. Maybe it's because blogging is akin to comfort food – and there is no greater need for comfort food than when it is snowing outside and you can't do a blasted thing to stop it. Drat. And I needed to get my windshield wipers replaced. Let's hope I make it home in one piece! So, chickadees, let's see what's happened this week? Answer— not much! I was totally stoked to watch Northanger Abbey on Sunday (thank you PBS – and BBC – and Viewers Like You that make it possible!). I've never read Northanger Abbey. I tried, but swiftly found another book to draw my attention away from it. Cause of the lack of interest is unknown. I didn't know who the hero was in the story, nor even basic plot points. Yes, dear friends, I am sad to say that my Austen knowledge had a hole in it. But, thanks to the cliffnotes adaptation shown last Sunday, I now know the frivolity and insensibility of Catherine Morland, the adorableness of Mr. Tilney (Henry, as he is called by all close acquaintances, of which I count myself these days), and the evil influences of the Thorpes and General Tilney. This adaptation was light-hearted, to-the-point, and engaging. Not to mention, once again, the adorable factor provided in abundance of Mr. Henry Tilney, which made the viewing experience quite delightful. The only distracting part of this entire story was how young Ms. Morland appeared in some scenes. To find her being wooed by a 26 year old was somewhat distressing, no matter how accurate that is with the book. Oh, and then there was the horrible ape-ishness of Mr. Thorpe. Thank heavens she did not end up with him. I would have been forced to despise this adaptation if it were otherwise. To all those who have not seen this, you must. I repeat, you must. And if you say you musn't, well. I don't think we should be speaking on the subject again in the future. I might lose my self-composure.

Haha. I love Austen because her novels make me feel literary, old-fashioned, and in need of a cup of good, strong chamomile tea. I hope I'm not the only one with this reaction. To make matters worse for me, I have immersed myself in Dickens. I'm currently reading Bleak House and am thoroughly engrossed in the world of Esther, Mr. Guppy, and Mr. Jarndyce. Every day at lunch I am encountering a new, quirky, truly-Dickens character that just makes me relish in the worlds he creates through his words. Thus far, I recommend the novel. But I'm only 130+ pages into the 800+ page novel. More reactions to follow when I can provide them. Not only am I reading Bleak House, but I have been watching "Our Mutual Friend," a close-to 6 hour adaptation of the Dickens novel. Once again, Dickens creates an intricate world of characters that are intertwined in ways that only leave you confused for the first hour and then slowly enlighten you as you progress into the story. Most of the characters in this story are crazy, but when there are cute moments, they are dang cute. Okay, so, there is the all-to-frequent dead body found in a river and scheming and craziness, but….I liked this story. I might have to read it after Bleak House. I would detail the storyline for you, but…trust me when I say that there are no summaries on the backs of Dickens' books because the summaries just would not do the stories justice. Erego, rent it!

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Shifting gears -- so, here's a question that I've pondered with a couple of friends this week: do you need to date in order to feel you have worth? Let me give some background. One of my friends and I discussed the need for real men in the world – ones that are gentlemen. Ones who call you just because they want to talk to you. Ones that want to be around you and let you know it. Ones that open the car door and bring you a rose just because. Ones that will communicate face-to-face, rather than just text, hanging out, and Facebook message. He wants to be one of those guys, and in talking with him, I realized how few of that breed I have met in my life. And then I decided that I want to wait for one of those to come along! So, do I need to date whoever, whenever, just in order to feel my worth? I feel like in our single's ward, that is what they are trying to tell us: dating determines your worth – at least for us girls, that is. For example, the survey died. FINALLY. But now it's this Cinderella activity that in essence sets us up with guys in the ward to go out to dinner and play at the Bishop's house on Wii systems - all determined by a shoe that we give to the presidency and the guys pick. Hmm. HMMMMM. Once again, it's nice they want us to mingle. But must it be forced? And contrived?

I have not dated very much in my life. Shocking, isn't it. So does that make me less of a person or somehow broken and undesirable? Does my worth directly tie in to how many dates I have had over the years? I sure hope not. I mean, it is nice to have attention paid to you in the form of a voluntarily-solicited date, don't get me wrong. But do I need to have dating activities and be arranged a date for a single's ward activity just to say that I have been on a date this week? Maybe I'm old-fashioned. Maybe I'm before my time. I don't know. But I've always been of the opinion that if I know I am not attracted to and/or interested in a guy, I will not go on a date with him. It's a waste of his time and my time and his money, and I for one will not stand for frivolous dating just because I "should" date. I think what this all boils down to is that I am destined to be an old maid. At least for a while. Thoughts? Reactions? Suggestions? Advice?

On other topics- so, I found this adorable European jacket. No, it's not from Europe, but I will definitely be wearing it to Europe! It's black with big, shiny black buttons down the front and white trim around the collar and sleeves. Oh heavens, call me Holly Golightly because I feel like I should be breakfasting at Tiffany's in that jacket. I'm still hunting for the perfect travel shoe. I'm a fan of slip-on's, but I think with the potential for rain, they need to be as weather-proof as possible. While still being adorable and European, of course. If you know of any, please let me know!

Wow – just found out Heath Ledger died. Possible drug over-dose. What is with this fatal trend? First Brad Renfro, then Heath Ledger. All my childhood movie star crushes are dropping like flies in unexpected, tragic ways. I think I need to go home and watch 10 Things I Hate About You. Oh wait – I can't. I'm going to see 27 Dresses. Maybe that will lift my spirits and make me forget the moisture that is STILL falling from the sky. Grrr.

Finally, before I jet because this is way too long even in a word document, I want to thank all y'all for reading my blog. I write it for me, but I love knowing that there are the three or four of you that keep encouraging me to write and express myself. And I think you know who you are. So enjoy this Tuesday, my blogging friends, and drive slowly if you are in the greater Utah valley area. I know I will! Bless the day 4-wheel drive was invented!

The Persuasion Review

2008-01-13T22:51:00.000-05:00

So, I just got done watching the new BBC version of Jane Austen's "Persuasion." I must say....I am almost speechless. Or at least I'm trying to figure out what to say. Let's start with the things I know:

1) Wentworth was cute. Blondes generally are. But, he gave off this Darcy vibe of severity and reserve which I had previously not associated with Wentworth's character. I felt he was intense and a little dry. It just didn't seem true to Wentworth's persona from the book.

2) The countless headshots of Anne and Wentworth were hilarious. They would just stare straight at the camera. Who does that? And given the fact that the movie had trimmed the book down to a succinct 1.5 hours, I felt they could have used the headshot time and devoted it instead to the much neglected content of the story.

3) Mary Musgrove belonged in an insane asylum. Go pick her up, nice young men in clean white coats!

4) The Louisa fall was the high point of the film, hands down. If I didn't know it was coming, I would have been like..."Wait...what? What just happened? I think that was significant." She jumped down into Wentworth's arms, climbed swiftly back up, and PLOP. She was out cold with a bleeding laceration to her skull. It happened so fast, and was literally, a "Ahhh! Swoosh! Plop!" moment. Classic!

5) Giles as the silly father. That took me off guard. He wasn't bad, but at some points, I had to think, "Why is Giles dressed up all funny? Shouldn't he be out dusting a vamp or singing a ballad in the Bronze?" Elizabeth Elliot, the older sister, looked too old. It bothered me. But not as much as Mr. Elliot, the cousin. He made me go "EWWWW" a number of times, and his storyline was never resolved. Anne just found out from her friend whilst she was running wild around the streets of Bath that Mr. Elliot had sinister intentions and had already declared who was to be his mistress once he was married to Anne. That was it. No public humiliation. No irate refusal of his proposal. Nothing. He just disappeared. Once again, I was struck by the necessity for 20 more minutes, or 20 minutes less of wistful headshots.

6) Anne was fine. But she was a little bland. If I were Wentworth, I would have decided that upon further reflection, she really had nothing to recommend herself in terms of personality, except that she's not as crazy as her family. Which, if you ask me, is not saying much.

7) How dare they mess with the ending? And have Anne talk about constancy to Benwick! When Wentworth couldn't even hear what she was saying! His final letter needed that impetus of Anne's declaration that women are just as constant as men and cannot recover from a deep love. Hello! He needed that to push him over the edge of propriety and write the tortured-lover letter. But no. We got the letter without cause and Anne running around Bath with a total want of lady-like decorum. Interesting creative liberties were taken, and I shall leave it at that.

8) Anne's fall while walking on the log and the subsequent event of Wentworth putting her up on the Croft's carriage were also noteworthy. She biffed it on the log and we were treated to a view of what she saw - the world spinning 'round and coming in to focus on Wentworth's face. When I fall (a few select times in my personal history, might I add), I hope I'm not that swoonish and damsel in distress-like as she was. And when the walking party ran in to the Croft's, you barely saw Wentworth talk to them, telling them to take Anne. He just walked over, lead her to the back, and swiftly picked her up and she rode off into the brush. It was all very sudden. Just like Louisa's fall, it lost some of its potency as a subtle revealing point in the characters of Wentworth and Anne and the storyline.

Overall, it was an acceptable Sunday night flick. It was quiet and Austen-ish. But it lacked the subtlety and poignancy of the book and 1995 film version, which for me, make the story into something more than just another chick flick. There needed to be more interactions between Anne and Wentworth, and they both needed to acquire and/or demonstrate personalities. I think with a little more story content and resolution, a bit of character reworking, and more time to develop the key relationships, this could have been more than just acceptable. But, such as it is, I'm grateful that I was able to watch a new Jane Austen adaptation. The world is always a better place with another quality, wholesome Austen-inspired film. So, let me know what you all thought! And now I'm in the mood for the 1995 version. And I don't have it! Drat!

Penetrating and Purging the Piles

2008-01-13T02:51:00.000-05:00

Today was an eventful, great day. I didn't meet Mr. Right, get a dream job writing quippy columns in a London-based newspaper, or win the nearest state's lottery jackpot. I think I did something almost better:

I. Cleaned. My. Room.

Now, for those of you who know me, you might be shocked at the normal state of my room. I usually clean it once a week, generally a Sunday night. Well, cleaning is not the right word. Tidy. That's the word. I tidy it once a week. Get rid of the shoes that have been worn and not put back in their boxes, the coats and scarves that are in need of hanging...a general tidying occurs, so that I can start the week fresh and put as much on my floor as I want during the course of the coming days, without feeling like a complete and total slob. I may give off the spic-and-span vibe, completely-organized-to-a-fault groove...and I laugh at that. It's akin to those who tell me that when they first meet me, they think I only listen to classical music. Haha. Classical, with a side of Breaking Benjamin, a dash of Sum 41, and a pinch of Anberlin...the list goes on. (P.S. If you honestly think I only listen to classical....we need to chat. And soon.) Oh shoot. I tangented from what I was discussing. So, anyway, my room has piles in corners and things keep adding up because...well...to me, it's organized chaos. And if I can get from my door to my bed and to my Love-sac without risking injury, I'm okay with my piles. Well, at least I was. I was trying to fall asleep last night when I felt not ready to go dream. Since August, I have been studying for the GMAT, doing applications, working, and trying to continue my "adjusting" to post-mission life. So, it's been kinda hectic and now, it's starting to slow down. I realized I needed to start afresh, with the new year, new goals, and a pile-less room environment. So it was time for the deep clean. *shudder* And yes, this required gas masks and the "Hairspray" soundtrack. And Dew. Lots of Dew.

By the time I was done deep cleaning, I had spent roughly 4-5 hours doing it, had two bags and a box for D.I. donations, 2 bags of garbage, and next to nothing under my bed. Okay, I don't know if you ever wondered if monsters could live under your bed (I have - overactive imagination strikes again), but I think my bed could have been called home for a few of them. I had piled a bucketload of stuff from my college days. I'm talking a cookie sheet, lime green telephone, my VHS tapes, old shoes, and all of my framed art that I had framed while I worked at Prints Plus. You know, looking over those framed posters, I still really like what I did. I have vintage photos of Venice, Paris, London, and San Francisco framed, along with some other fun ones that will just make my future home high class. Okay, so that was all piled underneath my bed. It has (almost) all found a new home, and I can get on my knees and see the other side of my bedroom under there! It's awesome! And then I attacked my whiteboard. It things I had written down before my mission on there. I can only shake my head in shame. It has been erased and I'm thinking what I'm going to put on there now to make it a useful part of my room. Then it was closet time. Oh boy. I need a walk-in, and that's final! Uh...well...finalish. Until the "ish" goes away, I made do with what I have. I pulled out all my old cassette tapes that I had taped from junior high and high school (before CD's were big and burning was possible - oh no. Does that date me????) and tossed them. That was a heart wrencher, let me tell you. It's like ripping out a piece of your childhood. But....you have to be practical. When are you ever going to listen to cassette tapes taped off of the radio? Not once, I can assure you. I then went through my CD's and put the wandering, wayward ones back in their cases and organized my collection as "burned mixes," "burned albums," "soundtracks," "rockin' tunes," and the "classical section." I even alphabetized them within their sections. Apparently, once you give in to your OCD tendencies, you go all the way. It's all or nothing. Then I organized my clothes so that I might be able to find what I'm looking for a little quicker and not have random clothing articles strewn across open drawers and falling out of the closet. I hit the book section next, and put all my Harry Potter's, Anne of Green Gables series, Alexandre Dumas, Bronte sisters, Spanish books, Austen collection, and current reading selections together. Then I organized my slipper collection and mission papers. My closet is a thing of beauty! I'm so happy with it!

So, friends. Bloggers. Phantom readers who might come and never let me know you are here. (I still love ya and we're friends. Fear not!) I am crazy. And I know it - I spent my Saturday deep cleaning my room! And I liked it! There was something about vaccuming up the dust of the past year and getting rid of the piles and old stuff and spraying lilac-scented Febreze all over that just made me smile. I literally sat on my bed and looked around. It felt great. Now I think I can start this year off right. Sadly, I'm not done yet. I need to hit my desk drawers and figure out whatever in the heck I'm going to do with my childhood collections of stuffed animals and such that I feel must go. But that's for another day of fun-filled purging. Till then, friends! Oh, and I'm considering a new comforter-color combo. I'll keep you posted.

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And a gentle reminder! Persuasion! Tomorrow! And the paper said 8:00 pm on PBS, Mountain Standard Time. So double check where you are to make sure you don't miss it! And if you do, let me know and we can do crumpets and enjoy Wentworth over an afternoon tea!

The Spice of the British...and a Surprise!

2008-01-09T00:30:00.000-05:00

Okay, so, announcing to all the Jane Austen Chick-Flickers in the world. The BBC has redone 4 Jane Austen novels (Sense & Sensibility, Persuasion, Mansfield Park, and Northanger Abbey) and will be showing all 6 adaptations of her novels (this means Colin Firth as Darcy will delight my small screen once again...and Kate Beckinsale as Emma...um, I'll stick with Darcy) on Masterpiece Theater over the coming weeks. First one up is Persuasion, THIS SUNDAY (as in, January 13th) at 7:00. So mark your calendars, set those TiVo's and allow yourself to be carried into the Jane Austen Universe! And if you are so interested, on the Masterpiece Theater website, the kindhearted programmers put up the entire schedule of the 2008 classics they will be showing over the coming months. Dare I say, I will be in English bliss until May! In my opinion, there is nothing to spice up the dreary winter months quite like the British.

And to add to my excitement and glee, my family and I have recently cemented our plans to go abroad in April. Oh my heavens, how many times have I wanted to say that and MEAN IT! Wahoo! We are going to Paris, Prague, and London. And I really don't care that I'm missing 7 work days. Hello! Europe! My Europe! (name that movie, sports fans) While in London, we're going to see "Wicked" the musical, so pretty much, after April, I can die happy, and a European traveler. It's just nice after putting up pictures and posters and calendars for years of London, Paris, Venice, Rome -- that I am actually going over there. At relatively low costs, thanks to frequent flier miles and hotel rewards points. So, that's something to look forward to as the winter months drag on...and in between Masterpiece Theater offerings. Oh shoot! I need to plan what I'm going to wear! Help!

Hummingbirds and Priority Mail

2008-01-08T23:46:00.000-05:00

Okay, so my New Year's Resolution was to blog more often. Every person has a story that is uniquely their own. A voice that only theirs can produce. And I have been neglecting mine. But, unfortunately, I have to be practical and knowledgable about all things "Leah." Whenever I say I want to be consistent in something, I usually am good. And then I get sick. Or busy. And my goal goes kaput in about 3 days or less. It's scientifically proven. How sad is that. But, in order to get around the Consistently Consistent Consistency Curse (okay, now is that a cool name or what?) I have decided not to make it a goal that I blog every X amount of days. Rather, I will blog when I feel the need and not put it off for a more convenient time. So, let's see how that works. I'm hoping it means more blogs and a less-frustrated-with-herself Leah. Help me out here! I think the funniest part of the whole blogging thing is that I open my page and I expect it to be different. For some reason. And it isn't. And I get irritated - until I remember that I am the one who can change it. Go me for being quick on the uptake.

So, first news of the month. Christmas came and went (just in case some of you were still in denial or living in an alternate, Christmas-is-in-July universe)! And with it came grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, Ipods, lil smokies, naps, and WAY too much good food. I liked the whole paid vacation part of it, but definitely did not jive with the having to go back to work after the vacation part of it. But, there went December. I am now 25, the proud owner of a blue Ipod Nano, and about 25 pounds heavier. The joys of the holiday season.

And only slightly behind the top story of the month in terms of importance, I turned in my college applications! Almost all of them!!! Please applaud, because I am, and only me applauding is, well, pathetic. I only have the University of Arizona left to do, and boy. With that out of the way, now I just get to....wait. Seriously. Wait. And wait. And wait. I think I'll find out in mid-March, early April. So, please bless I get a nice envelope that says at least one of these schools loves me. But, the most aggravating part of the application process. So, I got almost all of my professor's letters of recommendation back, except for the last professor. He's quite busy, so trying to get these letters done was definitely a crunch, but he did - on January 2nd. So, because I got his letters last, I couldn't send off my letters to York University in Canada until January 3rd. No biggie. Priority mail them and poof, they're there. Oh yeah. P.S. International mail is not so friendly. I go to the post office and wait in the ever-present postal line. I get the nice lady who is soft-spoken to help me. I explain my plight that I needed to mail the four letters to Canada ASAP. She told me that for 1.92 I could first-class them to Canada. It would take 6-10 BUSINESS DAYS. Deadline is on the 15th. You do the math. So the next option was priority. 6-8 BUSINESS DAYS. And that would be $9.62. Or - I could do 3-5 BUSINESS DAYS for $22.00. Yeah, guess which one I was forced to go with. GRRR with International Mail and their extorionist ways! Finally, to end my sad application story, I come home later that day to find that York had updated their application system and that professors could now just email in their recommendations. OF ALL THE.....

So, there it is. No more about applications until my doom is spelled out in the envelopes. One more tangent and then I'm off to do my bed-time routine of heating up my rice bag, curling under my many covers and reading a good book and scriptures before going to sleep...this is a good tangent, too. A friend-ish person and I were chatting today, and we hit upon a somewhat quirky game. If you - or the people you know and love- were animals in a previous life, what would you be? He came up with a sea horse for himself, because he loves the ocean and is a beach nut. I then suggested something akin to a hyena, because hyenas mooch off of other people and make you crazy listening to them. I don't think he liked that option. So he's a sea horse. Then he asked me what I was. I thought for a second, and came up with a hummingbird. It was the first thing out of my mouth, and strangely, it kinda fits. Go with me here on this. I'm attracted to all bright colors. In clothes, beddings, decorations, rainbows, fields of wildflowers. You name it- if it's a bright color, I will instantly label it as cute and therefore desirable. I am also so focused on my short-term missions and goals that sometimes I get quite tunnel-vision. Any of you who tried to help me be social these past few months will agree with that, as Applicationville took over my life. I am also so fast and flitting around doing whatever comes my way that no one can catch me. Hence why I am still single. Haha. Plus, I hate being tied down and just want to be free. And I believe soaring over the world qualifies as a singular type of freedom. Anyway, so I am a hummingbird.

Now the fun part - what would you be? Why?

What's Worse?

2007-12-14T00:32:00.000-05:00

I'm lying here in bed, wrapped up in my new fuzzy pink blanket, with my rice bag warming my back, and thinking to myself, "Self - what is worse than a headcold?" Ooh. That's tough to beat. I was talking to my boss today about headcolds. I made the following observation: "Migraines I can handle. Stomach flu I can handle. Other types of pain that come once a month I can handle. But headcolds? Forget it. Those knock me down, out, flat on my back, begging for mercy." I can't stand headcolds. I mean, you get all stuffed up to where when you say, "Good Morning, Mom!" it comes out a sorry "Good bornin, bob." Then you blow your nose. A thousand times. And your nose suddenly becomes the reason why Santa's recruiters are on the phone, asking for your availability on Christmas Eve and if you are terrified of heights. Oh, yes. Crying is nothing compared to the redness my nose exhibits when it gets all stuffed up. And then there's the fuzzy head. Not like a Chia Head fuzzy, but you feel like you're floating in a very funny, not quite-so-real cloud of existence. And you know that no one else is. And then your eyes feel like they each have forty-two bricks on them, so it's a struggle just to keep them open every minute of the day. And so you take Nyquil. Or Dayquil. Or Theraflu. Or my Grandma's Indian Tonic juice thing (oh my heavens, it consists of the following: sugar-free apple cider - hot - with tabasco sauce, minced garlic, pepper flakes, paprika, cumin, lemon juice...it burns everything you have in your body, so it should burn out the infected cells. At least that's my Grams' logic). But headcolds are stubborn and never go away in a timely fashion. They hang on and make you have 4 ugly days in a row. Oof.

And so, bloggers - I ask you:

What is worse than a headcold?????

Here are some things I came up with:
1 - The writer's guild strike. I'm sorry. Kiss and make up so that we can get back to our nighttime entertainment routines!
2- Black ice on roads while it's snowing. *shudder*
3- Single's Ward Dating Surveys (see below entry for further horrifying details)
4- Gerard Butler dying in yet another film
5- Getting rejected from all my PhD programs! Don't even go there....
6- Turning 25. Once again, enough said.
7- Having to plan your high school reunions. I'm sorry, but that's just not gonna happen!
8- Having the headcold on a Friday night. When you have to write your admissions essay.
9- Being the last one at work on Friday because you are on hourly pay - and they are not.
10 -Brussell sprouts. Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew. EW.
11 - Microsoft Word's Autoformatter. DEVIL FEATURE!!!!

K - your turn!

Other Random Thoughts

2007-12-12T11:43:00.000-05:00

See, this is what happens. I don't blog. And then I do. And then I have a gazillion and a half things to say. So let's jump right back in where I left off last night:

--I was forced (yes, forced. I even asked if I would be forced. And the answer was in the affirmative. Grrrrrr) to fill out a Singles Dating Survey created by our Elders Quorum Presidency (I think they lost their brains this past month). In church. Why? Their reason: to build ward unity. The real reason: they want to encourage dating, and so they were/are going to pair people up based on their survey results. To go out with the bishopbric members. Ha. Good luck with me. I was so irritated I filled one out and signed it as the "Disgruntled, Frustrated, Anti-Dating Survey Ward Patron" and addressed it specifically to the makers of the survey. I then was going to fill it out trying to be semi-serious. But I couldn't. The questions did not let me. They included questions such as: "My favorite genera of music is" (and yes, they used that spelling. Obviously they did this written in hieroglyphics and then translated it over because......genera?)...and then the answers were Rascal Flatts, Jessica Simpson, Linkin Park, or something else. COME ON. My favorite "genera" of music is an artist? Try again, kids. My favorite question, though, was "I am preparing for marriage by....1) Learning how to cook. 2) Studying the scriptures 3) Dating 4).....don't remember. GEE WHIZ. I'm preparing for marriage by trying to be the best person I can be and that God wants me to be. Do I need to be doing something else here? Am I crazy? Anyway, the result of me being "serious" on this survey was that I had to write my own answers in, because theirs were just pathetic. Beyond pathetic. Sub-pathetic. And then I got yelled at and then ignored by the EQ First Counselor, because apparently by filling in my own answers, I ruined the survey. Darn. Pity. Crying SHAME. Honestly, though. When did a Single's Ward singlehandedly take it upon themselves to get us hitched with wardies? Hello. You are messing with things you ought not. Feelings could get hurt. It's freakishly insensitive, and COMPLETELY negates the whole chemistry and interest factor. Just because you circle the same answers on a ridiculous quiz does not mean you are a match made in heaven. *Sigh* I've been venting for two weeks and I'm still not over it. I might have to do another blog entry as therapy.--

--I'm decorating our new office building. We're building it right behind our current one and oh boy. I'm the designated design specialist. Have I built something before? No! Not even out of Legos or those log things or anything. But here I am picking out brick colors, roof materials, talking to electrical wiring guys, finding furniture, measuring the architectural drawings, discussing brick layouts on the exterior.... Wow. I knew I should have studied something different in college! I'm just hoping it all turns out pretty and how my boss wants it. That's the big thing!--

--I'm coming down with a cold. This is a recent occurrence, brought on today at about 11:04 am. The head went fuzzy. The nose went stuffy. And tonight is our company Christmas dinner. Joy of all joys.--

--Tucano's. Discovered it. Loved it. Wished I was a guy so that I could tell the cute waiter man that I wanted more garlic parmesean steak, because oh my heavens. GOOD food, that is. But if I were a guy, then he hopefully wouldn't be deemed cute- just the guy who feeds you. Haha. I was never so unhappy at being full. I wanted to keep on eating!!! Next time!!!--

--I had a crisis of character. Well, sort of. So my mom met this guy at BYU - 26, athletic (soccer), dark curly hair, nice guy -- and wanted to set up my reluctant older sister with him, because she thought that he would be her type. My sister was, of course, a little skeptical, and asked why my mother didn't try to set him up with me, because I generally don't care as much. She replied that he was more her type. My mom then asked me what my type was....I drew a blank. Drat! What is my type of guy? I can list off all the guys I wish were real (wait- I HAVE done that) or at least an option for me, but what is my type? For like real guys? Hmmm....suggestions?--

Okay, the time is swiftly approaching where I get to leave work and go home. In other words, it's the best time of day. So, bloggers, I hope this gave you even more mental nonsense to ponder. Until a later date!

Shamefully Late Entry

2007-12-12T01:10:00.000-05:00

Okay, most of you probably have stopped checking my blog, because......well..........life has happened since that last blog. Nothing major. Just life. To the point where at night, I think to myself - blog? or sleep? And you can guess which option won out every time. And so, after receiving numerous, uh, suggestions (that's putting it nicely), I will post SOMETHING until I can do a proper blog, just so that when you do check in with my wacky world of weirdness, you aren't confronted with my face everytime.

So, let's recap the last six weeks or so - (more in depth analyses to follow)
--I turned 25. Enough said.--

--I distributed all my application materials to professors and paid extraordinary amounts of money to be able to get the priviledge of having schools consider me as a possible applicant. Not fun for the check book.--

--I narrowed my schools down to the following choices: (arranged in order of wishful thinking of I will get accepted)
1- University of Arizona
2- York University
3- Penn State
4- University of Wisconsin-Madison
5- University of Utah
No, no BYU on that list. I've been there, done that, and moved on. So it's on to different states (or even countries!) this time. Wahoo! I've been singing the song "Defying Gravity" from Wicked to give me courage, particularly the part where Elphaba sings - "And nobody in all of Oz, no wizard that there is or was is ever gonna bring me down." It's my mantra these days. --

--I discovered the Wicked soundtrack. Oh fun. Serious fun. I love good musicals and this one is swiftly becoming a favorite. Now if it would only get to Salt Lake City in a timely fashion! Until then, you can find me Mondays-Fridays 7:30-7:53 in the morning and 5:00-5:24 in the afternoons jamming to Elphaba and Co. on my way to and from work.--

--I saw Ryan Shupe and the Rubberband perform live and up close and personal. Can I just say they rock? The devil can take me down to Georgia anytime he wants, as long as they fiddle down there with me.--

--I'm singing in two Christmas choirs. Not of my own free will. More of an obligation. With your mother putting the stake choir together and your ward choir begging people every Sunday, I gave into the moral obligatory pressure and accepted my fate to be a minstral this holiday season.--

--I sang the words "We can be together forever someday" five times, while holding the hand of the person next to me. Sadly, it wasn't Gregory Smith or Dean, but, until they become real and want to date me, HRH will do just fine. She knows what I'm talking about.--

--I've seen Enchanted 3 times. Okay, how sad is it that I get my kicks out of a Princess story? And just wish that just ONE of those guys would somehow stumble across my path. But, such is life, and so I'll just continue singing my own version of "I've been waiting for a true love's....."--

--I bought a pair of red ballet flats. Can I just say how empowering red shoes can make a female feel? Honestly, I should buy five more pair! Especially now that I have a red pea coat to match them!--

--I drove down to St. George with two ex-Elder friends to see an ex-Hermana get married. Wow. That was weird. Her being all married-like with a guy, and me in a car with two 21 year olds for six hours in a twelve-hour period. AUGH!!!!!!!!! But I did make record time. Wonder why....--

--I saw "El Regalo de Navidad" - the Latino Christmas program in the Salt Lake tabernacle. Wicked awesome having everyone speak Spanish. Couldn't understand anything in the music, but, it was the ambiance that made it special. But then we had to drive home in a blizzard. Not so fun. I've decided snow freaks me out when it sticks to the road and makes my car have a mind of its own. Nope, I like it when it stays on the grass and trees. Too bad you can't program snow. Hmmmmmmmmm..........--

Okay, I'm getting the fuzzy head feeling, so, I will go into detail about some of these things, but suffice it to say, I'm alive. Well-ish. And trying to move my life forward, via college apps, red shoes, and "Wicked" good music. Till then, bloggers, take care!

The New 'Do

2007-10-31T17:29:00.001-04:00

Happy Halloween to all! And to blog something that will truly scare the kiddies tonight, I give you my new 'do. Taken at my office, by my boss, without my consent. And this is why I shun photos!

BOO!!!

Now What?

2007-10-26T17:07:00.000-04:00

WHERE IS MY JIM WHEN I NEED TO BE ENTERTAINED AT THE OFFICE???

Another week has gone by. You know, try as I might, I struggle blogging consistently. I think I’m a feaster or faminer….note to self – put this on the list for Self-Improvements of 2008: be consistent in all your pursuits! But, here I am. Half of the office is either out sick or out of the country, so I’m contemplating whether to prepare my lesson for Sunday or to blog. Obviously, blogging won.

Thanks for the words of encouragement about the GMAT. All three of you who read my blog probably know that I didn’t do so well. At least not as well as I had hoped or imagined. And I don’t know if I did well enough to get into my PhD programs I’m targeting. But we’ll see. I at least did well enough on the verbal that colleges interested in applicants who can write well may not be deterred by my horrifically substandard math score. *crossing the fingers!* I was a little…okay….a LOT….disappointed and heart-bruised on Saturday after taking it. But, you know, after a few hours of crying and watching whatever I could find on TV and making banana bread (the perfect therapeutic food – nothing beats beating up bananas and making KILLER dough), I realized that maybe this is going to be a trial of my faith. It would require no faith if I did amazingly on the GMAT, - just apply and poof. Because I didn’t, it’s time to trust that this is all for the greater good and that something will work out. I’m hoping. So now it’s time to write essays, pay atrocious application fees, and wait. These might be some REALLY long months ahead.

Onto brighter topics- I’m going 4-wheeling on Saturday! I am so excited! My GMAT class has prevented me from going this past month and a half, and I was afraid that I was going to be unable to go again until next year. Now how sad would that have been. Happily, 60+ degree sunny weather is perfect for a 4-wheeling jaunt in the desert or mountains. Hooray! Nothing clears the mind so well as being reckless in a controlled fashion surrounded by nature. I have to admit, I do get scared sometimes following my fearless father onto paths that really aren’t paths (there was a mountain ridgeline incident once….I still can’t believe I did that), but it’s so stinking fun and the adrenaline rush is so great, one can’t help enjoying themselves. And so I intend to enjoy myself fully and completely come Saturday! If you haven’t been 4-wheeling in your life, call me. You need to go. Trust me!

Other happenings – I’m cutting my hair tomorrow. Yes, that would be Saturday. Yes, it is before going 4-wheeling. So I will inaugurate my new ‘do by getting a dust-filled helmet head. Ha. Oh well. It’s time to change something, and as I can’t change my height, weight, or wardrobe without considerable expense and in a day’s time, I have settled for my hair. And the scary part is that when I get into this mood, I tend to do drastic things to my hair that I later regret. In the moment it’s liberating, but afterwards, it’s just a nightmare. There was the mushroom ‘do, the choppy ‘do, the Jennifer Aniston ‘do (actually, as I recall, that wasn’t a totally bad one)….maybe this is one of the reasons I avoid photos of myself at all costs. I hate to see my hair escapades captured for all to see and remember and mock. Hmmm. Anyway, I don’t think I’m going to go too drastic this time. I hope I’ve learned my lesson by now. But….we’ll see.

So now that the GMAT craziness is over, I have an abundance of free time on my hands. I have to ask….now what? It was like a marathon race preparing for that test, and now that it’s over, what should I do with myself and my time? Suggestions? Both plausible and imagination-happy suggestions are accepted. What do you do with your free time after not having free time?

The Countdown to G-Day

2007-10-19T18:14:00.001-04:00

So I’m sitting at work, after having written three practice essays, reviewed all my notecards, and even contemplated taking another test, utterly devastated and excited that tomorrow is G-Day. Yup! GMAT Day! It’s finally arrived! After thinking about taking it for five months, kinda prepping for one month, and seriously prepping for a month a half, G-Day has come. This test will be one of the deciding factors into letting me pursue higher education. So one might innocently wonder, so….how am I doing?

Honestly, it’s odd. I thought I’d be this mixture of negative, self-defeating emotions. Thanks heavens I’m not! I’m nervous. Oh yes. Completely. But I’m also ready to take the beast and see how I do. I mean, it’ll be nice to have it over with (barring the notion of retaking it if my scores are substandard) and have a good portion of time and energy to devote to other pursuits. Like writing admissions essays. Hmmm. Maybe I should stick with the GMAT. Okay, I’m kidding about that. Let’s get it over with! As of right now, I feel ready. I know the formulas for surface areas (ha – they just all went rushing through my head and I had to pause to go through them individually – I am my own worst enemy!), the rules for properly using subjunctive (which reminds me that I need to go over pronoun cases tonight), and how to identify logical fallacies in arguments. I feel definitely geeky at this point. But given all that prep and random useless knowledge, I have no idea how that will translate into me achieving a decent and useable score. That’s the problem – using the knowledge as a homing signal for the right answer. 37 times for math questions and 41 times for verbal questions. *Sigh* I’m trying to remind myself that if grad school needs to happen, all my prep and angst and headaches will not have been in vain. But who knows. Only time will tell. And as I write, time will definitely tell, because by this time tomorrow, I’ll have been done with the monster. Erego, the resulting glee or gloom will be proclaimed to all by about 12:38 on Saturday, October 20th. Til then, blogging world!

Questioning a Classic

2007-10-15T16:42:00.000-04:00

HRH called me up on Saturday night to watch an Audrey Hepburn movie. It was a comfort night, with slippers, hot bread pudding and chocolate, milk, and a classic Audrey movie. Call it the perfect end to a crazy day of GMAT prep and I gladly accepted the invite. I arrived and we discussed the movie options. If it was going to be an Audrey flick, we had to choose “Roman Holiday,” “Sabrina,” or “Breakfast at Tiffany’s.” In my opinion, Sabrina is great. But the whole Audrey – Bogart thing makes me a little….twitchy. It seems unnatural. The movie, not my twitchiness. That might have something to do with the 50 year age difference. And we can’t have twitching on comfort night. So, it was between “Roman Holiday” and “Breakfast at Tiffany’s.” I’ve seen “Roman Holiday” before, so I asked if we could watch “Breakfast at Tiffany’s.” I mean, it’s a classic. A song has been written about it. Hair styles were taken in a new direction by Audrey’s up-do. Even “Gossip Girl” had a scene in last week’s episode reenacting the opening of the movie, complete with “Moon River” in the background. So, obviously, this was a hole in my movie vieweing experience that needed to be filled. It’s been a classic since 1961! It was time to watch and partake of the antics of Holly Golightly.

Given my other Audrey movie experiences, I was expecting a light-hearted, clean, quirky, and loveable characters and movie. Hmmm. What I got was not what I expected. At one point, I told HRH that the party scene was a 1961 version of a rave. And then I found out the lead guy was having an affair with a married woman. And that Holly was a call-girl. And all she cared about was marrying a rich guy and her military brother, Fred. As the story progressed, we find out that Holly was married at the age of 14 and ran away (okay, so I probably would, too), visits a mob-convict every Thursday to deliver an innocent weather report from his “lawyer” (umm…be MORE naïve. I dare you.), and of course, our protagonist guy (Paul baby….or Fred) falls for Holly, though she pushes him away twice because he’s not rich enough for her, though he’s perfect for her in every other way.

After watching this, my first reaction was, “THIS IS A CLASSIC?” How? Why? Did I miss something here? Were the characters loveable? Not really. Was the story exciting or interesting? Not so much. Did I go “AWWWWW?” At the end? Nope. Sorry. So…what makes this movie a classic? It certainly wasn’t the surface level story, characters, soundtrack, or even dialogue. I was mystified.

Then my friend and I started talking. Holly was such a complex character beneath the awesome clothes and cigarettes. She was so totally insecure and a mystery to herself. Her choices in life were made in the hopes of forgetting that she had absolutely no idea who she was as a person. She had changed her name from Lula May (a good call on her part), was never settled down, didn’t even give her cat a name. She wanted to live the most out of life, but I think deep down realized that no matter what she did or how much glitz and glamour she aspired to in her life, she was lost. The drinking, cigarettes, constant changes….it all points to the fact that Holly was wanting something more, but didn’t know how to get it, and she didn’t realize that it has to come from her. Her male counterpart (Paul baby…Fred…whatever) was also lost. He had achieved moderate success with the publication of his book, but after that, he became lost, too. The fact that his lifestyle was being paid for by his married lover says it all. But, he recognized that it was not enough. Holly helped him see that, because she needed his help. Immensely. So he shaped up, ended the affair, got a real job, and got his life back on track. It was his love and verbal slap-in-the-face to Holly that helped her realize how empty her life was, and how she needed to change it. The movie ends with Holly and Paul baby standing in the rain, sheltering “Cat” - together. They needed each other to fill their lives, but could only come together when they had recognized their own problems, deficiencies, and so forth, and taken the step to change that. So really, this is a story about finding yourself, for better or for worse, and the necessity of those people in our lives who help us along the way.

And THAT, dear bloggers, is why this movie is a classic. The themes resonate almost 50 years later. The outfits may change and the picture quality might improve, but what this movie says behind all the movie fluff is applicable today. Now, would I watch this again? I don’t know. But is it a classic? I would say so.

Super Powers

2007-10-15T13:51:00.000-04:00

I have a super power. Some of you may know that already about me. Some might be thinking… “You just have one?” (P.S. I like these people) Others might be saying to themselves, “Um, no. There’s no way that you have EVEN one.” (P.S. again – These people can stop reading right now because their unbelieving, cynical view of life will taint my enthusiasm. Erego…chaucito!) But, no matter what the critics of the super power secret world may say, I am shedding off my “normalcy” disguise and shouting to the world “I HAVE A SUPER POWER!”

Why might I be doing this now? Well, it’s quite simple really. I was watching “Heroes” the other night. This is a show about people born with not-so-normal nor common gifts, as a result of genetic mutation. Call it the weekly X-men serial drama, if you will. Just no Hugh Jackman or Bobby (Crying shame, if you ask me). They’ve included the normal powers – telepathy, flying, spontaneous self-healing, telekinesis, time freezing, etc. Still nothing to do with fire manipulation. I’ll wait for that. Anyway, the point is that I was watching episode 3 of the new season. Claire, the self-healing cheerleader, is in hiding with her adoptive family – and for obvious reasons. Scary people hunt you down when you are special and make life not worth living. So, being the teenager that she is, she’s in high school, laying low, pretending to not be special. Apparently it’s kind of hard for her, because she does some not-so-smart things that draw the attention of the friendly neighborhood flying stalker and bio lab partner, West. West gets on her case, eventually bringing her to tears, in which she declares, YES, WEST. I’M DIFFERENT. Then, he tells her to stop talking, picks her up, and they fly off into the clouds a la Lois and Clark. I have to ask myself, wouldn’t she need a warmer jacket than a light-weight hoodie to go gallivanting around the clouds? Just a reality check to remind me that TV is NOT reality.

So, what does this have to do with the price of beans in Chile? Not much. But, it does have much to do with my desire to reveal my super power to the world. To be able to say, YES, WORLD. I’M DIFFERENT! AND THIS IS WHY!

I…..Am…..The…..Human….Barometer.

No, X-men fanatics. I’m not Storm. My eyes don’t go all transparent when I’m ticked off, nor is my hair a freakish shade of blonde. Thank heavens. That would clash horribly with my skin tone. But, I do have this supernatural ability to predict weather patterns and changes. Now how many of you can do that without looking at the newspaper or weather.com? Not many, I would wager. And I think this is a power that grows in strength, because I did not have this power before my year and a half stint in Argentina, and it’s only become more powerful since my return. I now can predict when it will rain or snow, or if it is already raining or snowing, how long it will last, give or take a few hours. Pretty spiffy, eh?

Actually, being a super hero Human Barometer has its drawbacks. So let this be a warning to all you supernatural-power-seeking kids: with great power, comes many great and not-so-pleasant side effects. I present Evidence 1: Rogue’s hair streaking white. Evidence 2: Clark living a life of lies and secrecy. Evidence 3: Bruce’s mansion burning down. Evidence 4: Peter having to save Mary-Jane YET AGAIN from peril and the audience having to live through it. All point to the sad universal truth that super powers are not what they are cracked up to be. My own side-effect from being the Human Barometer is that I get nasty migraines that last for days…not so fun, let me tell you.

But, I don’t like dwelling on the negative. So I just revel in the fact that I have a super power. Which leads me to my question, blogging world – if you could choose your own super power, what would it be? Why? And most importantly, what name would you give yourself? I’m thinking Human Barometer is a little wordy. Suggestions?

Top Ten Guys I Wish Were Real...Or At Least an Option

2007-09-23T02:15:00.000-04:00

We all know that it is so much more entertaining to live in a fantasy world than it is to live in reality. And if I'm going to live in a fantasy, I want to have the super-uber-perfect guy to be there right by my side. So that got me thinking - who would I pick? And as I can't leave anything up to chance, I decided to give the fates a little help on this one. So, blogger kids, I give to you my top ten list of guys I wish were real....or at least a viable option. And I'll try to explain who they are, where they are from, and why they are on the list.

1. Mr. Darcy (of any version....do I need to explain this one?)

2. Mr. Rochester (specifically the Toby Stephens' Rochester - he may be crazy, but he makes crazy look so DANG appealing)

3. Edward and/or Jacob (I'm cheating on this one, because it really should only be ONE guy, but hey - if one isn't real, I'd gladly take the other. See Twilight series for more information on this dilemma)

4. Gilbert Blythe (Anne of Green Gables - he waited how many years? Hook me up with some of that Canadian love!)

5. Jim (from the Office - Office Olympics anyone? Need I say more?)

6. Dean Forester (Gilmore Girls....but the Dean from seasons 1-2...beyond that, no thanks)

7. Orlando Bloom (be it a sprightly, arrow-wielding Elf or an honor-bound driven Pirate, he can make any girl swoon. Savvy?)

8. James McAvoy (you know- I'm in a phase. I'll get over it. Until then, watch the Penelope trailer and see if you join me.)

9. Fred Weasley (LOVE HIM. Hilarious. Talented. Wizard. *sigh* Don't get me started on his tragic demise, okay? I'm still in mourning)

10. Gerard Butler! (the real-life Gerard, the Phantom Gerard, the Dear Frankie Gerard, even the Lara Croft Gerard...if you don't know why he should be on the list...well, I'm sorry for you. A life without Gerard is not worth living!)

So there you have it. This is not set in stone, so be ready for changes in the line-up, last minute additions, and popular vote-ins. And so, dear friends - who would you put on the list?

Flavor of the Day

2007-09-21T10:29:00.000-04:00

I am a creature of habit. I do basically the same things every day while at work and at home – same lunchtime routine of eating an apple and a peanut butter bar in the park, same wake-up time, same GMAT prep every evening…. these routines generally don’t change. And yet, despite what I do that would make each day seem mundane and monotonous, each day is distinct. Different outfit to wear, different amount of traffic on the roads, different food cravings…each day is just uniquely it’s own - with its own particular flavor.

I’m sure we can all agree that some days are more flavorful and appetizing than others. Those are the triple-brownie, caramel-striped with toffee nugget days when a special boy calls, you find the perfect pair of shoes on sale AND in your size, or you are just in a good groove that day and you swear that little leprechauns are jaunting all around you, sprinkling their good luck in your path because everything just goes well. I love those days. Then there are the other days. You wonder what the fates were thinking when they created that flavor of a day. It’s akin to a mocha-pistachio swirl, with a handful of cayenne-pepper covered cherries. It is just nasty upon first bite, and it does not improve upon further consumption. Those are the days when you wake up with a headache, you have a flat tire, you make forty gazillion mistakes at work (and are told about each and every single one), and there is pointless road construction on the way home, so it takes 48 minutes to get home instead of 21. You never want to repeat those days again. Then you have the days in the middle. The cookies-and cream, mint-chocolate-chip type of days. The normal ones. They are perfectly pleasing to the palate. But by the time you’re done with them, you are ready for a break. Something new. Something different. Another flavor, shall we say. These are the good days, where by the end of them, you’re satisfied with all that you’ve done, but are ready to go to bed and experience what the next day’s flavor is. Because you know it will be different.

Are you having good flavor days? And if you would classify them as not-so-good flavor days, are you going to do something to change them into yummy flavors? It’s possible – it just takes a little bit of effort, and a lot of courage…just like going back and asking the ice cream man for a scoop of a different flavor – it all starts with us.

So – with that said - what’s your flavor today???

Good Times

2007-09-17T12:41:00.001-04:00

Usually when life gets crazy, moments and thoughts get funnier. I haven't figured out if that's because we're going legally insane at those moments and erego, life is just a hilarious show. Maybe it is. Or maybe we just latch on to those funny, spontaneous moments to try to keep us sane. Who knows. But whatever the cause, you live for the moments. So here are some of mine from the past little while:

Cultural Education...Or Lack Thereof
On Saturday night HRH, a couple of her friends, and I went to the India Fest that they hold once a year at the local (ahem - this means the only one in a two-hundred mile radius) Indian temple. It was the first time I had been there and I was excited to go because...hey. How often is it that you can say casually to your friend, "Yeah, I went to the Indian Temple on Saturday." I mean, instant cool factor right there. So we went. It's in the middle of nowhere - actually, it's in the middle of farmer fields, which just made it feel strangely like we were actually in India - or how I imagine it would feel to be in India...minus the humidity, of course. I was a little disappointed because there wasn't much to do, and what there was to do, you either had to pay, stand in a never-ending line, or fight the crowds. Not entirely what I was expecting.

We went up into the temple where they had an appointed story-teller-guide-person-man to tell the story of their culture and religion. We sat down, and I was ready to be culturally edified. Much to my chagrin, I could barely understand the enthusiastic man gibbering off in a mix between Hindi and English. We lasted about 3 minutes and then decided to leave. I remarked to my friend that I was hoping to learn more of their culture and religion, because, sadly, everything I've ever learned about India, I learned from "Bend it Like Beckham" and "Bride & Prejudice." Which, at the time, was a hilarious realization. I mean, India is HOW big and culturally important, and all I can boast after my many years of education and world history classes is that my knowledge of a fascinating country is based on two Indian-influenced chick flicks. My world is apparently very small. That didn't stop me from hoping that Jonathan Rhys-Myers or Martin Henderson would magically show up and get their Indian groove on. Once again, I was disappointed.

What the....?
Like I said, the India Fest was packed to capacity (and probably a little over). There were families, groups of friends, and all forms of human life that you could expect to find at such a gathering. However, I was not expecting one human life to be there. So I was standing around the Henna Tattoo booth, because a couple of the girls with us wanted to get tattoos. And as there was nothing else to do, we accompanied them in the line, discussing everything from career aspirations to how similar Mika is to Miranda. We were standing in a circle, chatting away, when I casually looked to the side of my friend. I saw just a sea of faces, one of which was behind said friend. I looked away, because why pay attention to random faces unless they are Jonathan Rhys-Myers or Martin Henderson? It took me a second after I turned back to our group to realize that I recognized that face. Very well. And not from the movies. I looked back and saw the person still staring at me, with a grin starting to begin at the corners of his mouth. It was my friend Nate. Nate, mind you, is a friend from high school -well -we were friendsish. We eventually became pretty good friends in college. Since being home from Argentina, however, I hadn't seen him much. You know how that works. They have girlfriends and that's just not right to be around too much. He went to Washington DC for the summer and had been back a month. He hadn't called and I hadn't called him. That's just how we work. We catch up every couple of months or so, but nothing too major in between. And quite frankly, I saw his posts on Facebook and heaven help me if I was going to be one of the many girls trying to get his attention. So I refused.

Thus, seeing him, after about four months of not seeing him, and seeing him when I was not expecting to see him, caused me to have this blank stare and blurt out the words, "Of all the places in the world for you to be, why are you HERE?" That's a nice greeting, now isn't it. He said hey to all and then quickly scurried away to be with his roommates. And that was it. Of all the places to see an old friend who you avoided because of his harem of girls, you see him at the Indian Temple in Spanish Fork, Utah, during the India Fest, on a Saturday night. Which leads me to conclude...."WHAT THE...???"

Fall Colors
I don't think this is necessarily funny, but it's strangely amusing to me. My mom wanted to go up the canyon to see the trees changing colors. It's kind of a tradition with us. And apparently the colors won't last long this year because we had a dry spring or something. I really need to study up on that. Anyway, we went up the canyon, just the two of us. We drove around, saw the brilliant reds, the vibrant oranges, and the stunning yellows, all mixed in with the greens. It was beautiful. The problem is that I get carsick. I'm good on long road trips, and I just can't read or do anything in cars if we're going on short trips. The real problems start on winding roads. I cannot stop the queasiness once we get on those. I almost didn't get to go to my favorite place in the entire world, Sea Ranch, California, because it's about 45 minutes of coast-hugging highways. And the little roads up the canyon that wind around the different campsites? Almost as bad. So my mom kept on chatting and driving, while I rolled down my window and curled up into a ball. We got lost. Do you know the agony of being carsick and not knowing the way out of the evil one-way roads of camping? Intense, let me tell you. We finally found the little wood post that directed us toward the exit. We got home and I went directly upstairs to my bed and put on Pride & Prejudice on my laptop and laid there for about an hour and a half, until I could move again without feeling like I was going to lose it. That's just life, isn't it? You go do something fun and not normally done, and enjoy it, but then end up curled on your bed for an hour afterward because of carsickness. Joy!

The Pink Ones
I stayed the night and spent part of the day with my cousin and sister last Saturday. I did my GMAT prep (ugghhhhhh), was introduced to Supernatural with a four-episode marathon (not so shabby, but I'm left with the question which really needs to be answered...who is cuter? Jared/Sam or Jensen/Dean? Help!), and vegged just a little. It was needed. So my cousin and I wanted to go to Costco to gas up my car and buy Supernatural Season 2, because apparently it was on sale (actually, it wasn't. My sister should learn not to assume things), and eat the tasters. Yum! My sister wanted to go to her running store to buy new shoes. Since it is very close to Costco, I offered to take her there. Geez. I am so not a runner, let me tell you. I don't know if you've ever had the joy of going into a store which is SO not your thing. The only logical response is to make fun of the things you see, because let's be honest. Half the time you don't even know what the things are for. I mean, squeezable sport gel, anyone?

So the worker guy asked us if we needed help, and I pointed to my sister and said, "Help her!" He looked at us funny, and that was my escape cue. My cousin and I ran outside and sat to wait for my sister. Apparently it's a very in-depth process to pick out new shoes. Support, weight, fit, comfort...who knew? At this store, they will not sell you a pair of shoes until you've tried about eight on, and run with all eight outside for a little bit. Then you do shoe challenges, running with one shoe on one foot and another shoe on the other, in order to find the winner. It's a weird world, that running world is. So the cute sales guy comes out with my sister and tells her to run. She runs past us and shouts, "What do you think?" Me, being the girl that I am, shout back, "They're not cute! Don't they have some in pink???" I heard the guy laugh behind me. Yeah, I'm not a runner. It's apparent. So a few shoes later, she runs out, super excited. "THEY'RE PINK!" And they were. These shoes were white, with pink accents. And not just plain pink. Shiny pink in some places. I was sold. And I made sure she was, too. I mean, honestly. Who needs running shoes that make you look ugly? It's all about the image.
And pink does the trick.

The Reality of Fictional Favorites
I go to church every week and this Sunday's topic in one of our classes was marriage. *Inward groan* Nothing says Hip-hip-hooray like a marriage class in a single's ward. Trust me. Anyway, one of the girls asked about when should you pay attention to the red flags before getting serious, and which flags were important. Quoting the text which the lesson was based on, "there must be the proper approach toward marriage, which contemplates the selection of a spouse who reaches as nearly as possible the pinnacle of perfection in all the matters which are of importance to the individuals." I then made the comment: "Girls, we will not find a perfect guy. Ever. They don't exist. The sad reality is that Mr. Darcy is not real. Nor is Edward. So we need to find guys who come close to perfection in every significant area. But if we are searching for ultimate perfection, we will end up alone, with only our books and chick flicks to comfort us." I got a lot of laughs, but it's true. And as much as I hated saying it (because now I have to admit it), Mr. Darcy is not real. Nor is Edward. That is just the reality of our fictional favorites. Nevertheless, which book am I rereading? Pride and Prejudice. Which book(s) did I read before P&P? The Twilight series. Sometimes I think reality is overrated.

The Arrogance of Men
I don't know how many of you have seen Star Wars Episode Five (or #2 in the original trilogy), but I watched it this weekend and was reminded of a line that makes me want to gag everytime I hear it. Imagine Han, in shackles, ready to be put into frozen hibernation for an indefinite amount of time. The Empire's bubble-head guards are all standing around thinking, "Hey man - is it lunch yet? This Vader dude totally sucks out all my positive energy." And Chewy and Leia are there, watching helplessly. Okay, Chewy wasn't totally helpless. He took a few guards down before Han told him to cut it out and protect the damsel in distress. I'm sorry, has Leia EVER been the damsel needing protection? Okay, don't answer that. So Leia and Han have a farewell smooch and as he is pulled away, she says, "I love you." His reply? Not "I love you, too." Or, "Get me out of this and I'll marry you in a pod-racing second." No. He says, oh so gallantly, "I know." Geez. Of all the arrogant replies. That one is the worst. Does it say that he loves her? That he's committed? Negative, ghostwriter. Rather, it is the detached, emotionally void reply that stems from his inner ego. Talk about arrogance. That always ticks me off.

So, while watching this movie with a group of people I didn't really know that well, I make the reply: "You know, I'd like to be a bounty hunter for a day and take him down." I got a lot of funny looks. Maybe I should try verbalizing all of the mental banter I have before making such comments in the future. Note to self.

The Really Big Brain Cramp

So, I thought GMAT would be bad. That was until I had to translate an engineering report from Spanish to English. Complete with math conversions from the metric scale to what we Americans use. I think that's why all of the above moments/thoughts were so funny or at least note-worthy. I spent the beginning of last week doing this for about 12 hours. Ouch. Not recommended. So don't blame me for being odd. Blame the goo that was me before the translations began.

Living the Kamikaze Life

2007-09-17T12:17:00.000-04:00

So, HRH recently chastised me for not keeping my blog up-to-date with my random life occurrences. I apologized because it was the truth, and what else can you say in response to the truth, except…I’m sorry. So I did. And that was about a week ago. I guess I’m slow. Or a slacker. Or just completely overrun by my kamikaze life. Time to explain!

What is a kamikaze life, you might ask? Well, according to the uber-knowledgeable database Wikipedia, kamikaze means in Japanese “god-wind” or “divine wind.” So, its origin is divine, correct? Right. Go with me here on this. Somehow, in the translation of the word and its everyday use in English, it now refers to the suicide bombers of World War II, and basically suicidal action in general. Put the two meanings together, and you get what I mean by living the kamikaze life. There are days when I feel like my life is careening out of control, the warning buttons are beeping at a frantic pace, and I can barely think straight because too much is going on that I can’t even focus on pulling out of the death spiral nose-dive. The kicker, though, is that it all comes from a divine source. No, it doesn’t mean that God hates me and is punishing me by sending things to bring me down to an early demise. Quite the opposite. I am dealing with things that seem bent on my destruction, but in actuality, are sent to help me become who I can and need to be. Is it overwhelming? Yes. But is there a reason for it all? I would have to say yes.

So what I am dealing with or going through? Don’t laugh because it is a lot for me right now, but it can be summed up in one short acronym – GMAT. I’m prepping to take the evil sucker on October 20th (aka in my world as D-Day. No, not Deliverance Day. DOOM DAY). I’m taking a class at BYU to help motivate me. Oh yes. $335 for a class that is eight hours a week - 4 hours on Thursday evening and 4 hours on Saturday morning. When each class is over, I consider it a success if I remember my name and where I parked my car. My brain is impaired that much. The worst of it all is that I chose to be there. AND I PAID FOR IT, TOO! *Sigh* The sacrifices you make to be able to pursue higher education in the world. I’m also doing math and language practice problems every evening for at least an hour. So that means by the time 8:00 has rolled around, I’ve basically sat around all day, either at work or at home, slowly turning my mind into Leah brain-goo. This means that I need to exercise for about an hour while watching an episode of Gilmore Girls in order to bring me back to a somewhat normal state, and then crash into my bed at night. Add all of this insanity to my normal duties as a daughter, sister, chauffeur to my brother, as well as my desires to have somewhat of a social life on weekends, and you get Leah’s kamikaze life.

I’m sure you have all had moments, days, weeks, or periods like this in your life. You know it’s all leading to something. You just don’t know what. Nor when it will happen. But you put up with the craziness because you know that it doesn’t lead you to the end of the path, but rather takes you to a new one, full of new adventures and twists and turns. So we soldier on - until the day when it all makes sense, and we can sit back and breathe a sigh of relief and say… “A-HA!”

Saying Goodbye.

2007-08-31T13:04:00.000-04:00

So, last night was a turning point for me. Not a jubiliant, HUZZAH shouting turning point, but one which I think (I hope!) will be good in the long run. Though the tears that have been letting loose all morning show that at least for now, it’s gonna hurt. A lot. And the little girl that's inside of me is just throwing this tantrum in response to all that's been going on. So instead of breaking things or driving somewhere far far away and two stars to the right (gas is still just a little high to be filling up my Escape with every long-distance whim I get), I decided that the turmoil causing the inner tantrum needs to be voiced. And thus it can go away.

It started out with going through a dark week last week – where nothing goes right and you feel like the powers of all that is evil in the world are combined against you. Not so fun, shall we say! And the one person I needed to talk to, was being elusive, evasive, and just not there when I needed him. This caused a lot of self-analysis, because all of my emotions were just screaming out – YOU NEED HIM, when in actuality, I really didn’t. I could survive without him. And I did. (Score: Leah 1. Her emotions: 0) If he had been there, we would have talked and I would have received the wise counsel I needed and the knowledge that someone was there for me during a hard time. But he wasn’t. And that’s what started this whole thing.

I was just going to disappear off of his radar without so much as another word as to why I was completely frustrated and emotionally distraught over him. But, I couldn’t do that. I need closure. So I called him. We played the phone tag game again until about 11:45 at night, when he called. I debated whether or not I wanted to answer, and right before it went to voicemail, I answered. We talked about everything – from the heckfire I went through last week to why I was so irritated and hurt where he was concerned. It comes down to this: I care about him so much and I want so many different things from him, and he’s not there with me. Am I his friend? Most definitely. Does he care? Thankfully, yes. But beyond that, it’s no-man’s land for him. He just can’t go there, and I understand that. If it’s not there, you can’t force it, fake it, or buy it. So there it is. He told me I need to relax, to let him go, to just end this for now. I won’t be able to find what I need as long as I have this hope with him. So, let’s just take away the hope. Literally. And he was right. I already knew that and had already decided that. But it still hurts.

Some days I just wonder when I will get a break. I mean, this isn’t new to me. I’ve dealt with this sort of thing before. Just not with someone who was so close to me in so many ways. And I think that’s what’s hurting right now. Because normally when I feel this way, I call him. And I can’t. Not now. And probably not for a while.

Saying goodbye. It’s what you need to do to break free, to close that chapter of your life. Those preface chapters are still there, a part of you, but you move on- the pages turn. And you know it’s right, and you know it’s time, and though saying the word ‘bye – and meaning it- can just tear the heart up, that’s just what needs to be said. Nothing more, nothing less. But if you need to have some wallow music for the “saying goodbye” aftershocks and wallowing period, I recommend the following, from personal experience, to soothe the wounded soul: (and no mocking allowed as to where these come from, because it’s the WORDS that matter!)

Gotta Go My Own Way – High School Musical 2
Almost Lover – A Fine Frenzy
I Will Remember You – Ryan Cabrera
If We Were a Movie – Hannah Montana
Goodbye to You – Michelle Branch
Me Voy – Julieta Venegas
Hate – Plain White T’s
Sozzi- Letting Go
Les Miserables – On My Own
Leave the Pieces - The Wreckers

Any other suggestions? What do you listen to when you say goodbye?

Monday Doldrums

2007-08-27T13:04:00.000-04:00

So, I am sitting here at work, fighting off a mind-numbing headache, and I am just watching the minutes slowly tick by. I think that's the problem with being paid by the hour - hours, seconds, the slow progression of the minute hand around the clock...it can become attention-consuming. Especially when there is nothing else to divert your attention. Let me explain. I have a great job. I really do. I get paid heads and tails above others who are doing exactly what I am. Paid benefits? I have them! My boss is incredibly kind, patient, and understanding. And the engineers I work with, contrary to popular myth, are quite hilarious and sarcastic. It's refreshing, to say the least. So what's my problem, might you ask? 18 out of the 20 days of the month I have to invent projects, assignments, or "jobs" for myself to do because there is just nothing to do! And there are days when creating something out of nothing requires so much energy, I sometime give up in defeat and watch the minute hand once again. Usually, I can keep myself somewhat occupied until the lunch hour, and then when I come back, I usually only have close to 2 hours left before Departure Time (the joys of being responsible for running the mail in are great, let me tell you) . But, unfortunately for me, the fates have conspired against me and all of the gainfully employed working population by creating the nastiest, most horrifying, disheartening enemy of us all that turns us into glaze-eyed clock watchers: MONDAYS.

The poison of Mondays starts seeping in Saturday afternoon, when I usually have the thought- "OH NO! In less than 48 hours, I will be back at my desk, getting paid to do nothing! And sitting there for 8 hours! AUGH!" I try to dismiss those thoughts as quickly as possible, because who wants a perfectly good Saturday afternoon ruined by the Monday beast? But the beast cannot be evaded for long. Because by 6:30 am, after a restful Sunday night's rest, the Monday Beast rudely forces its way back into plainsight. And the week begins.

The Monday Beast is so powerful in its de-enthusiazing ways, that work, which is usually bearable through some invention of my own, becomes all together doldrumatic. Looking up what exactly "doldrum" means (because heaven forbid I use a word inapproriately!), I found that it is indeed a word that is applicable to the Monday Blues we all experience: "A period of stagnation or slump. A period of depression or unhappy listlessness." (Dictionary.com) And so, fellow sufferers of the Monday Doldrums, I give you this ray of hope: We all experience it. You are not alone. So put in your Hairspray Soundtrack, buy a Twix, read a best-seller during your lunch break, and if worst comes to worst, day-dream that Gerard Butler will be waiting for you at home when you finally leave the Monday Doldrums of work , ready to sing to you the sweet lullabys of the Music of the Night.

The Rediscovery of One's Self

2007-08-19T03:30:00.000-04:00

The other night I was enjoying a night of giddy, innocent, school girl fun. I haven't done that in years. My co-conspirator, Megan, and I ran outside during a microburst rainstorm and subsequently got completely, totally, and undeniably drenched. And because there were big puddles surrounding us, and as we were already dripping wet, we went puddle splashing as well. It was most entertaining, given that we were both wearing flip flops and somewhat decent clothes. But when there are puddles and frolicking in the rain, those are just mere details to be overlooked.

When we had enough of jaunting outside (or rather, when the storm cleared and the sun came back out), we changed into pj's and curled up on those big comfy couches that are smushed in just the right way after years of being sat on. We had about an hour to kill before the premier of High School Musical 2 - the entire reason we were doing this shin-dig and probably the reason we were in such a mood. My friend pulled out a game called Table Topics and we proceeded to play. This game is not a normal "I WIN" game, nor is it one for the weak-minded. It requires you to ask questions back and forth to each other, with both parties answering completely and honestly. At least, as honest as you want to be. It has the ridiculous types of questions that are completely nonsensical (and as such, right up my alley), such as your favorite part of Thanksgiving Dinner (the correct answer being the turkey sandwiches you make the day after!). Some questions delve into the deeper areas of who we are, what we want out of life, and so on. Simply thinking about these questions and formulating a single response sheds an enormous amount of insight into ourselves and the person playing with you. The best part of the game was seeing how alike Megan and I are, and we were able to have some good discussions based on these "get to know you" questions that someone put together and sold for $25.00 a case.

The funny thing is that while playing this innocent game, I realized a few things about myself. I think it was also influenced by the fact that my friend is a therapist with some singular insights, but whatever the catalyst, when High School Musical 2 started, I was still thinking about my answers and myself rather than Zac Efron's puppy dog eyes. No, it wasn't being egotistical and vain. It was just one of those moments where you see more about yourself than you had before. Like one of the blinders you put on to survive daily life and make youself believe that "all is well" gets taken off and you see.....hmmm....maybe there is some work to be done here. For example. What would your life be like if you could live without fear? My answer? Completely different. I am ruled by fear. Fear of failure. Fear of rejection. Fear of being alone. Fear of enclosed space. Fear of sharks. Some of them are funny fears, but some of them have shaped who I am today. And I don't necessarily like that. I remembered when I was a kid, I really didn't care what people thought about me. I would wear my leggins and jelly-shoes with my permed hair just because I wanted to. I was also the bossy girl who ordered the boys around the school yard and loved beating everyone to the right answer in school. That was me. And somehow, over the years, I have become enslaved to these fears that just drive me towards....I don't know what. But it's not something I'm proud of nor want to have continuing on in life. So it's time to change.

While I was musing over my life, another thing happened. A guy friend called and wanted to come over to my house. Problem was I wasn't home - and was about 30 minutes away from being home. I wanted to see him and talk, because he had a rough day and I just wanted to hug him and tell him life is gonna be okay. Unfortunately, this is the type of guy friend who I love being around and somewhere along the way, I made the unconscious decision that when he calls, I drop everything and run to his side - though I doubt he'd do the same for me. It's kind of like, you fit into his life wherever there's space and a few free minutes, but he is a major and influential part of your life. Unbalanced? Highly. Healthy? Not really. Hard to break out of? Most definitely. So we talked on the phone and I told him I did want to see him, but I was with my friend. I contemplated leaving and even asked her how much she would hate me if I bailed on her. Being the friend that she is, she understood, but I knew she would be disappointed in me if I ran off to him. What's more to the point, I knew I would be disappointed in myself if I gave in. I told him I was going to stay, and he was fine with that. He always is. That's just how it works. He said we would talk tomorrow, but of course he hasn't called. So through this all, I realized something else about myself. It's time to be ME and let him go. I can't lose myself in him and in being his friend. I think it's hard because part of me wants to be the uber supportive friend, but in doing that, I can't lose who I am to become this nebulous appendage to his person.

So what does this all have to do with the price of beans in Chile? Absolutely nothing, and yet everything. It's time I had a place to think outloud, to write all the thoughts that are swarming inside my head and threatening to take away my precious sleep time from being so overpowering, and somewhere where I can go to just be ME. I do go four-wheeling in the desert to lose myself in my thoughts. Or I go driving in my Ford Escape with the windows rolled down, jamming to my music, just to forget. But there has to be something more than forgetting or drowning out the thoughts and experiences. So, here I am blogging world. I am ready to rediscover who this Queen of Nonsense really is and I hope you'll revel in every new discovery, encourage every new experiment, and support me every step of the way, as I find out just how nonsensical life really can be.