Sunday, December 19

I Like Life

Everyone has their role models. As a small girl, this scene had a particular effect on me, as did the character of Christmas Present. To this day, I think it's still a fantastic motto. :)

Everyone also has their favorite renditions of A Christmas Carol. This remains mine. Heaven knows I need to be regularly reminded to enjoy what life has to offer. And somehow this season only serves to accentuate such an ideal. No matter how much I complain--if I lose 50 dollars or get a 71 on an exam or kill another plant or find out I have a serious disease or... whatever. I do indeed like life. And I especially like this song. :D

Saturday, December 18

December 18th

Today I got up about 7.  I did some Christmas shopping.  I took a two hour nap with my dog.  I worked on my castle.  I did some crochet.

Christmas Break.  :)  

Monday, December 13

Literary Crush

Yes, I admit it. I have seemingly eternal crushes on a few individuals. There's a sense of tragedy to the literary crush, isn't there? This man will never exist, and you have a few rather in-depth windows into his existence that will have to satisfy you. It's like you met him for a short time, had a brief, intense relationship, and then... he died. Or something. And all you have to remember him by are the books he is in. These are books that I take out and peruse whenever I'm feeling lonely--if only for the familiarity. The funny thing is, unlike *real* crushes that I've had on people I've actually met, these crushes stand the test of time and often serve as models for which I compare potential relationships with. (I am unaware of myself doing this, but it's unfortunately true.) There are some characters that are so cardboard cutout that you cannot really read about them without falling even a little for them. And some of them are yours entirely because no one else finds them endearing.

Regardless, here are the most prominent in my mind. I could probably come up with more, but I don't want to embarrass myself more than I already am. I also won't go in-depth about any of them, because 1) who wants to read that? and 2) again, I've embarrassed myself enough already...

First, Ged from A Wizard of Earthsea. Not sure about this one. He begins a rather entertaining trend within this list by being a mage (I have something for mages/wizards.) His story is one of the adolescent, proud boy making a mistake and having to fix things/humble himself and then eventually growing and maturing into one of the most powerful wizards ever. Etc. Something about him is so endearing to me... I love the way he reacts to other people and to his own problems...

Artemis Fowl isn't a wizard, but he is a criminal mastermind. Another one that I can't really explain, and another young, proud, powerful individual that bites off more than he can chew and --in making things right--becomes likable. Regardless, there you have it. Another confession on my part. ;)

Thomas from Sorcery and Cecilia is another less well-known one. (So unknown that I couldn't find a picture.) Another mage. I'm a bit enamored with the whole 19th century magician thing (as you may see.) In high-london society, Thomas is a player in the intrigue and awesome that takes place within the correspondence between Kate and Cecilia within the novel. He eventually falls in love with/marries Kate.
Gilbert Blythe from Anne of Green Gables is probably one of the most adored fictional characters ever. I'm not an exception. Gil is an amazing kid through and through. Not to mention he is keenly intelligent, witty, and entirely devoted. Right from the beginning of the series he is a favorite, and I think one of the most qualifying models I've ever had for a significant other.
Perrin Aybara from the Wheel of Time Series is an incredibly popular character, but I don't really like anyone's portrayal of him, so no picture for you here either. The series is 13 (soon to be 14) books long, so I won't try to describe his character. He's incredibly humble and represents my ideal of a good leader that... doesn't really want to be. Anyways, he's a wolfbrother and can communicate with wolves, as well has having several awesome wolf-powers. Etc. Sorry, I'm not really justifying any of this... ;)

Numair Salmalin from Tamora Pierce's Tortallian universe is the kind of individual most people who know me would associate with my affections. He is described as being six feet five inches tall, with a swarthy complexion, raven black hair, brown eyes and a long nose. He is also a mage and he's pretty much awesomely powerful. Again, witty, satirical, and absolutely adorable.

Lastly, Mairelon from Mairelon the Magician was actually the first character that I basically fell in love with. Another 19th century mage (perhaps that era was just awesome. I mean, turn of the 19th? That's Jane Austin all over. Though, I admit, I'm not particularly for any of her characters, despite all stereotypes.) Mairelon is (like Thomas mentioned above) high society, etc. He works undercover during the beginning of the books and takes on the protagonist, Kim, as his apprentice. He's all of those things that I like (satirical, witty, etc etc etc) and completely oblivious where romanticism is concerned.

Anyways, there you have it. Please feel free to share if you have any of your own to admit. I've said far too much here...

Wednesday, December 8

Internet Things I Follow

Here are a few things I check regularly (like some people have their weekly TV show they watch.)

Lackadaisy Cats
Worth mentioning again. Srsly excellent stuff.

Phoenix Requiem

This is a graphic novel that updates about twice a week, but it's already pretty long so it's up for some good reading. :D Authors description here:

On a cold December night, a gentleman stumbles into the town of Esk, gunshot wounds leaving a trail of blood in the snow behind him. Despite making a full recovery at the hands of an inexperienced nurse - and deciding to make a new life for himself in the town - he is unable toescape the supernatural beings, both good and bad, that seem to follow him like shadows.

Sorry, that's a little vague but I don't want to give any of it away. The story is actually really cool and develops in unexpected ways. I'm a bit of a sucker for victorian supernatural stuff. It's also really cool to see the artist's style increase in regularity and detail. (As, you will see, is the case with many of the comics I follow.) Right now it's super intense, but since you only get two or three pages every three days or so, it's utterly frustrating. Still, gives me something to look forward to. :)

Hark, a vagrant

First, I will clarify that I have nothing against Canadians. I think they are some of the coolest people in the world, actually. :) But I love this girl's Canadian comics. Anyways, these are all extremely satirical and run along a "historical" theme, although they branch out to whatever it seems that she is feeling like drawing. Warning, some of it can get very crude. But overall, her quirky drawings are lovable and her points are generally hilarious. (Thank you Erin, for introducing me. :D)

The Adventures of Dr. McNinja

Yes, yes, guilty pleasure.
This is one of those comics that cause... IQ points to leak slowly out of your ears. But I love it anyways. XD I've never been big on the traditional action comic superhero deal, but for some reason I really love Dr. McNinja. Basically, he's a doctor. And a ninja. And he deals continually with random problems like velociraptors or McDonalds McNinja burgers or Pirates.

Anyways. I kind of have a crush on him. But then, it's kind of inevitable. I mean, a sexy ninja AND a stable career? ;) Jk, jk. But, if you're super bored, perhaps worth checking out.

p.s. I was introduced to this purely because I saw someone dressed as him walk by on BYU. I was immediately intrigued and vaguely attracted (thank heavens I couldn't see his face.)

Girls Next Door

Woah. Except not... whatever that is that came up on google. A different Girls Next Door. :D For all those Bowie/Phantom of the Opera/Norrington/Javert fans out there, this comic is excellent. Ironically, it was actually made in response to another comic that focused on the men ("Roommates") and focuses on the women of the story, Sarah Williams and Christine Daae... and it's probably my favorite of the two. The story basically centers around Bowie trying to get Sarah to fall for him (though whether she already has is debatable), for the Phantom to come to terms with Christine (in whatever direction that goes) and for Norrie and Javert to figure their own lives out. The two girls just want to live a normal roommate lifestyle, but we all know that can't happen with neighbors such as theirs. Other pop culture references are made with regularity and tend to make everything so much more epic. Anyways, if your up for some utter and complete fan-girl-ness, check it out.

And I guess those are the big ones. I kinda feel like a loser for following so many different things, but they're all really funny (allowing for my sort of humor) and, again, it's nice to have something to look forward to... though only a few of them update regularly. Anyways, tchus!

Tuesday, December 7


What if, in the end,
I don't really know of them-?
That is, know my dreams...
How can I, really?
When everything is quiet,
Where do my thoughts go?
I find, more and more,
That I begin to desire
Something I can't have.
Each book that I read
Will draw me, unforgiving,
Into a new world.
Then, I find myself
Willing to desire those things
That cannot exist.
And, shortsightedly,
I begin to dwell more and more
Within these fantasies.

When your fondest dreams
Are little more than ideas--
False realities...

What do you hope for?
The story ends, the book closed,
And for a short time,
I can't help but feel
That the withdrawal has left me
Without a purpose.

But slowly, surely,
Reality sets back in.
So despite all, I smile.

And before the end
I will learn to appreciate
What I've been given...

(This was an experiment.  Do not worry, friends, I am firmly grounded in reality and bad poetry.  :D)

Wednesday, December 1

A Post That Doesn't Involve Curious George or The Man In the Yellow Hat

But it does involve kilts. A little. I've just decided that I think I'll require all the men who take a part in my wedding celebration to wear one.

I mean, c'mon, talk about the sexiest wedding party ever. ;)

Okay. Jk.

Anyways, I just wanted to give another oh so inspiring story

of greatness

and wonderful inspiration.

Yesterday (as anyone who will listen to me complain for half a second knows) my car door became so cold that after I'd opened it, it wouldn't stay shut anymore. I tend to "freak out" a bit if I'm going to be late anywhere, so as I was trying to get it shut so Leslie and I could head to BYU, I was very angry. My mum (most graciously) drove us to school, and I left my door hanging open for anyone to come and tamper with. But whatever. When I got home that night, the door must've gotten a bit warmer, because it shut fine and all was well.

So this morning, as a precaution (and with much cursing) I cleaned the ice and snow off my car, climbed in through the passenger-side door as a precaution against yesterday's occurrence(scattering snow all over my seat, etc.) and settled into my freezing car (with the doors beautifully shut, mind you.) And then, still grumpy, I set off.

It wasn't till I had been driving for a bit when I remembered something Steph had told me when she first sold the car to me. She warned me that William had run it into a snowbank some years before, and that the front door took a bit of *umph* to shut (which is why I am so violent with car doors, sorry...) but if it was ever left open (even slightly), the battery would undoubtedly die. This has already happened once, because the door (while shut) didn't *quite* shut all the way. I realized, now, driving happily to BYU in my car--that I had somehow been mercifully avoided such an occurrence, despite the door being left open for the entire 12 hours that I was at BYU yesterday. And I hadn't even noticed, being the dafty that I am.

I've noticed now. I thought I'd share. :) I think for every bad thing that happens to me, a plethora of bad things don't happen, and because they don't, I don't notice and I'm not grateful.

Goes back to looking for the good, aye? It's icy, cold, and early... but it's also crystalline, beautiful, and fresh...

Here's some more Highland Wedding-ness. :D Just to get you guys excited for three years from now:

Monday, November 29

And Another Deep Thought From Our Sponsor:

I am very pleased.
The man in the yellow hat
Is wearing a kilt.

Monday, November 22


I just wanted to give a shout-out to my favorite web comic artist ever, Tracy Butler.

She is brilliant.  Cats + Prohibition = Brilliance.

No, really, this is set in the 1920s and it's about a speakeasy starring a delightful cast of - yes, for real - cats.  They are beautifully drawn and one of the reasons I want to get into photoshop so much.  Awesome stuff.  :)  P'haps worth checking out if you have a moment.  I warn you though, there are quite a few - and her updates can be pretty scattered.  But they're excellently witty/extremely entertaining.

Read them here.

Uh... yeah.  :D  

Sunday, November 21

Favorite Color

And now, from your overly-analytical blogger, a new thought.
What does your favorite color reveal about you?

I'm notorious (not really) for having a different favorite color at any given period of my life.  When I was very young I loved the color cerulean blue.  As I grew older - into middle school, I began to prefer vibrant shades of orange.  On into high school I preferred black (which isn't really a color, but eh) and then beginning into college I became enamored with pale shades of green.  Lately I've begun to notice myself preferring pale shades of yellow.

So.... what does this have to do with anything and why should I care?

It's interesting to note the connotations of each color.

Blue (more particularly cerulean blue) is a color that is associated with power, intelligence, heaven, and stability.  It's a very sincere color - calming and exciting all at once.  The color of bluebirds, most of my favorite flowers, and the Scottish flag.  From the earliest I can really remember to the beginnings of middle school I recall being enamored with this color (and the crayon itself.)
When I was younger my family remembers me as the "sweet, angelic lamb of the family" or whatevs.  I tried to mother my siblings and I wanted everyone to be happy.  When I was young I was enamored with learning and art.  (These passions I can't profess to fully maintain.  ;)  I loved life.  I wanted everything it had to offer.

Starting into middle school and on through Jr. High I loved orange.  1) Because --- honestly --- it's the coolest color ever.  And 2) Because no one else likes it.  I mean, maybe they like it, but it was rare for it to be someone's favorite.  Unfortunately, my love of orange doesn't really stem beyond this.  But still.  That kind of represents my mentality at the time.  Non-conformist and all that.  Etc etc.  And orange roses remain my absolute favorite.  Hence the picture.  :D

High school brings two things - depending on who you are.  Angst or glory.  Unlike my older brothers or younger sister, high school brought an over-exaggerated sense of self and my own aimless predicament.  But it was also a time when I began to discover what I really loved about life - the more elegant, mysterious sides of things.  My friends started to associate me with this persona and as much as I protested it, I really liked the idea.  Black, of course, is associated with all these things and more.  It remains also a preference.  Nothing's better than having a reason to wear all black.  ;)

College brought a renewal.  I guess all the angsty self-centered pride, etc etc slowly dispersed as I rediscovered a passion for scholarly pursuits, for the gospel, for life and the joy it can offer.  Green is a fertile color - calming and renewing, bringing peace and healing.  

And, now, yellow?  Who'd a thought.  And I wonder what it means...

Anyways.  I would think everyone else is less wishy-washy than me.  So, fav colors?

Friday, November 19

Some Post-Harry Potter 7 Part 1 at Midnight Haiku (i.e. my brain as of now, sitting at KBYU.)

The cat in the hat
is doing a little dance.
I can't stop watching.

Oh, Curious George
The Man in the Yellow Hat
Hugs a foul puppet.

As George walks along
He examines the contents
Of a jar he has.

Everyone likes George
But they cannot understand,
He cries redemption.

His face in his hands,
The small brown face sorrowful
Will they ever see?

Wednesday, November 17

Everyone I touch...


Sometimes... don't you feel like this?

Tuesday, November 16

A Pair of Ducks

When I feel uneasy about a test, I get about 80% or less.
When I feel confident about a test, I get 70% or less.
When I don't care about a test, I get 60% or less.
When I was in high school and I took a test, I got 100% or less.  But usually not much.  ;)  And sometimes more.

Of everything I miss about high school, the tests would probably be the most sorely pined for...

I can statistically (I would know, I was just barely 'confident' about a stats test...) determine that with 95% confidence, the chances of my growing stupider each year fall between the interval (100.00,101.00) as measured in percentage.  Therefore, I reject H0 (assuming, naturally, that it's generally assumed that people get smarter in college) in favor of the alternative.  Because as a non-statistician, I don't care about p anyways.

Monday, November 15


I haven't posted for a bit, so I guess I'll resort to an oldie.
I have very fair skin, so scars aren't really something I can flout.  :(  I have only three that I can really recognize, and they're pale enough that no one can really see them unless they're looking.

First, on my inner right forearm: a small inch-long mark--testament of what happens when you reach up for something on top of the Zub oven and your arm rests for a second against the metal... and my perpetual scab-picking boredom.

Second, on my left leg - down my calf, there is a 5 inch long super-thin white line--testament of how much my dog REALLY loves me.

Third, some silly looking red curls on my upper lip.  (Thank heavens these are hard to see or I'd look like I had a perpetual cold-sore.)  These are, sadly, testament of someone who gets cold sores.  A lot.

And, fourth, (I'm grouping these) there are numerous little white thatches on my fingers and palms.  Testament of my great inability to carve and previously great desire to do so (only fueled by the talents of my dear sister.)  There are about 5 or 6 obvious ones.

And there you go.  I'm a relatively safe person, actually.  I've never broken a bone or gotten stitches.  I think I've sprained my ankle once... (involving a long sprint across campus in high heels.  Not too surprising there.)

What can I say?  I try to be boring.  ;)

Anyone have cool scars?

Thursday, November 4


I have two sticky notes on my desktop.  One says "metro station kelsey" - referring to a song I heard forever ago on the radio that I mean to look up.  The second says: "Do your stats homework stupid." on the first line and "And stop mushing." on the second.  These are both really important things.  The first is in reference to the fact that all my stats assignments are online - thus, I always forget to do them and submit them in time.  Lately I've gotten better at this.  (Probably because we're allowed to drop three assignments and I've totally spaced three assignments.)  The other reference, "stop mushing" is something that I've lately decided to work on.

When I say mushing I mean two things - one (less particularly) is to stop being 'mushy'.  Stop wistfully thinking about my future and the fact that I'm at BYU.  Silly marriage voices.  This, I don't really have a problem with.

The second reference is to the mushy quality of my schoolwork as of late.  "Hmm.  I got about 87% on that practice exam.  ...   Good enough."  or  "Well, this project is worth 200 points.  I've pulled together enough to get a reasonably good score.  And I'm very tired... so screw this."

These things did not exist in high school.  In high school I cared.  I'm not quite sure what happened between then and now, but I no longer care.  So the sticky note exists to remind me to, well, not mush.  Unfortunately, that sticky note isn't nearly enough to keep me from doing so.  Luckily, I've found another route.  For those of you who know Mr. Gregory Chipman, he likes to ask questions...

"What does that mean?"
"That sticky note."
"OH.  Well, I've been a bit lazy with my school work.  It's to remind me to care more about what I'm doing and the grades I get."  
"Ah.  I see."

... later ...

"AUGH, I hate this!"
"Stupid... stats assignment..."
"Hmm."  (He is doing his remedial math class for special engineers homework... or whatever it's called.)
"I'm just going to submit this."
"Stop mushing, Beth."
"You- I-"  *Glare*  "Shut up."  (I continue to push through the assignment, finish, and get 100%.)

Or the other night.

"I can't figure out whether I need to calculate the mainline size for this irrigation system."
"Hmm."  (He is working on his homework again.  Positively enamored.
"I doubt I do.  I'll just leave it and hand in the project."
"Stop mushing, Beth."
"The T.A. will be back in a half hour.  You can ask him then."

And so forth.  I have to wonder what I did previous to his return...

Anyways, I suppose I need to hire someone to follow me around once the next semester starts, because Greg will have started school himself.  They can read over my shoulder and as soon as they sense procrastination or the like, they can lean over and hiss in my ear "Stop mushing."

Wednesday, November 3

31 Days

Jk, Gros. ;) We all know you're older than me. Don't rub it in.

Anyways, today I miss Wyview.

But that's besides the point. I was looking at pictures and I saw this one and I was quite entertained. See, next year at the Anime Convention, Erin and I are going as ...


I'm very excited - particularly because Erin looks like Tulio and I only just realized it. Compare her expression in the picture above to this one:

Pretty much. Now I just need to learn to play Mandolin... and somehow attain his figure. (I don't think that will happen...)

Monday, November 1

Thy Ministers

O for a voice like thunder, and a tongue to drown the throat of war! -
When the senses are shaken, and the soul is driven to madness, who can stand?
When the souls of the oppressed fight in the troubled air that rages, who can stand?
When the whirlwind of fury comes from the throne of God,
when the frowns of his countenance drive the nations together, who can stand?
When Sin claps his broad wings over the battle, and sails rejoicing in the flood of Death;
When souls are torn to everlasting fire. and fiends of Hell rejoice upon the slain,

O who can stand? O who hath caused this?
O who can answer at the throne of God?
The Kings and Nobles of the Land have done it! Hear it not, Heaven, thy Ministers have done it!

-William Blake

Here we go, November.

Another month already!  0_o  Or... sometimes I guess I could rather say "November, huh?  I thought it was almost January."  (That would be silly though, because that'd mean it had just been Christmas, and I'd be 20, hmm?)

Anyways, I don't really have anything to say.  I'm feeling very trashy and trying to avoid a project on irrigation that is sitting tantalizingly next to me.  But first, I think I'll indulge myself and post what I have to look forward to this most excellent month.


1)  Pie.

I could go on.  However, I won't indulge myself.  Yet.  But, yes, pie is reason enough for November to exist, I suppose.  I needn't say that I hope to see many much pie this month.  I've been missing it all year.

2) Last full month of school this year!
I don't think this really qualifies for anything, but I really am excited for November to be over because that will mean it's almost time for finals!  (And my birthday.)

3) Two tests.  (That is, I'm excited for them to be over, and that I only have two this month.

4) Thanksgiving break.  (Longest break we've had all semester!)  

5) Thanksgiving.  I'm excited to see my family/most particularly to spend time with my dad.  :D  It should be excellent.

6) Pie.

7) Uhm... pie.

Okay, so November isn't a big month for me.  But I did just want to post so I could get my blog re-formatted properly.  (Last time's comic was too large.)  

Anyways, yes!  Good luck ya'all.  Hope this lovely rain continues into November.  

Friday, October 15


I walked irritably out of the RB, thinking only of getting to my car and getting to the temple (being on a bit of a time crunch.) I approached the parking lot and, crossing the cross walk, found myself confronted by a young woman in a car. She rolled down her window quickly.
"Are you parked over here?" she asked hurriedly.
Sod off, vulture.
"Yeah, somewhere," I ventured with a shrug.
If you follow me I'll attack your car with my metal ruler.
"Excellent! Could I follow you and take your spot?"
The fact that you're even asking me this is despicable. Go fight for it like all those other blockheads speeding around. The last time someone followed me I hit their car with mine. Is that what you want?
"Yeah. It might take me a second to find, though," I said with a small smile. "It's a white prizm, and I'm afraid I forgot to check it's location when I parked it."
"Oh that's fine," she smiled sweetly back.
"It'll just be a second." I turned away and started stalking through the rows, still trying to hurry, and vividly aware that the whole time she is following me in her car. After a minute of fruitless searching in the first two rows, I'm feeling a bid red and all to aware that - not only is she following me, there is a young man behind her.
After another minute I turn helplessly to her.
"I have no idea where it is-"
Maybe if I didn't have you leeching along behind me I could concentrate long enough to remember where I parked. As it is, I feel like a total moron and my panic is only serving to throw me off.
"Oh that's fine, get in, we'll drive around and look faster."
"Oh thanks!"
Why didn't you offer before...?
I climb in and we drive down two more rows before I remember that I'm parked around the corner near the soccer fields.
"Sorry! I'm so retarded-" I laugh.
Naturally, I can only imagine that I wouldn't have been so absent-minded if you hadn't irritated me so much-
"No problem. I'll cya around!" she said with a shrug. Not looking so pleasant as before.
Pfff. I climb out of the car, dropping an assortment of the things I was carrying. Two cars are waiting behind hers. I run over to my car, fruitlessly search my backpack for my keys. It'll be another three minutes before I'm able to get loaded up and pull out.
I don't hit her car. Luckily. I know better now when I'm pulling out that people like to wait two feet or so from your car so no one will sweep in last second.
I also lost one of my shoes. Possibly when I climbed out of her car or at some other point. I didn't notice.
And, yes, at the temple I feel fully and completely terrible for the whole experience.
Why can't I be positive and charitable? ;)

Sunday, October 10


Sure, Bonzai.  Banzai looks Japanese or something.  Bonzai makes me think of Bonbons.  Or Bonanas.  Anyways.  YES, the Bonzai was this weekend.  And yes, it was one of my weirder cultural experiences.  But highly entertaining.  :D  The pictures I've posted speak for themselves, and I don't feel like a detailed play-by-play.  (Sorry.)  Anyways, I just want to say that it was fantastic despite being exhausting.  Thanks Erin for plugging us in!  It was epic.

Monday, October 4


The Mystic Order of Stupid Nicknames is called to order.

Sunday, October 3

Dear world,

Or rather, dear people-who-actually-read-my-blog,

Today was pretty cool.  I made  a quilt and watched conference.  Life is pretty much amazing.  :)
Tomorrow morning I have (get?) to get up and go elliptical with Erin for a bit.  But I don't want to because I'm a lazy sleep-mongerer and I like my bed.
I have a confession, I feel guilty when I am not superbly busy.  Is that a mental complex?  It gives me grief.

I'm now procrastinating pretty much all 20 things I meant to do before bed, but here I am.  Blogging.  :)
About nothing.  At all.  *sigh*  I guess I just want to shout out into oblivion.  This microscopic bit of the internet has my print on it.  And you get to read it.  Aren't you privileged?  ;)

Gad, I really am in an odd mood.

Perhaps it's because I'm full of rainbow rice krispie treats.  Hmm.

I'd better get started on those things...

Monday, September 27


Please please please please can it be fall? I want rainy days and brisk afternoons...

Friday, September 17

Things I learned in college #3

Hour breaks that occur between classes will a) be full of good intentions and b) benefit you nothing whatsoever except to waste an hour or so of your day.

As for today,
I went running for the first time in ages yesterday (on a treadmill). I went for 20 minutes straight at 4-5 MPH (for those of you who know me and running, that's crazy amazing.)

Now I'm dealing with after effects of lactic acid and the soreness in my hips is causing me to walk like a pregnant woman. (Could I have stumbled on a new way to keep RMs away?)

Thursday, September 16

Things I learned in college #2

No matter how successful you get, or how spiritual you are, there will always be someone (or, rather, several someones) ahead of you. And you will probably dislike them on a superficial level. Even if they are your best friend. After many years I've decided that this doesn't make you a sinner. ;)

In light of this, yesterday I basically stole a plant (with permission) from a professor and I sang loudly the whole way home with a huge grin on my face. I've decided that plants are pretty much the best. I can't wait to understand them. :)

Wednesday, September 15

Things I learned in college #1

If you feel like you don't have enough homework, you've probably forgotten a project or paper due tomorrow.

If you feel like you have too much homework, your teacher will probably alleviate it AFTER you've crammed it all in.  But only after.

Tuesday, September 14

Looks Familiar. Education, anyone?

I found this.  It actually details a machine failure or summat more or less unapplicable to my life.  But as I looked at it, I felt as though I knew EXACTLY what this *could* be depicting.

And it's only been two weeks... *headdesk*

Thursday, September 2

Dear Readers

It has come to my attention (again) that I'm not able to receive blog comments anymore.  Who knows what has caused this, but as a test, could everyone comment with their favorite Harry Potter quote/idea/character/object/whatevs so I can figure out what the problem is?  Thanks!

Tuesday, August 31

More Time Now...

Alright, seeing as now I don't have an assignment hanging over my head and I have a bit of free time before Erin comes out, I'll write an actual post.  About... something of consequence I'm sure.  This just serves to exemplify my early senility - I had a driving, interesting thing to talk about when I started this post.

Well.  This is embarrassing.  I guess I'll just make a confession.

Yes, Erin, I just lied to you.  As I came in to find you confidently preparing to have your blood drawn, I felt little else than terror.  The idea of waiting in that room with you brought nausea almost instantaneously, and I made a lame excuse to quickly escape.

Backing up, many of you heard me (in past times) proclaim loudly and happily that I couldn't wait until I was able to give blood.  When I was younger, it was something my mum did and I felt encouraged to follow her example.  Besides, the whole concept sounded cool and was for a good cause.  This attitude was maintained until my senior year, when we finally became old enough and signed up immediately to do so.  I was lined up and everything - putting in my paperwork, and on the threshold I was denied - for a cold.

I was pretty upset, but oh well, I could always do it again the next time, right?

SO, I eagerly awaited the next chance we'd receive.  During this in-between period, however, I had a rather... crazy experience in a NICU... and since then... I'm unable to handle needles.  Particularly in other people.

Don't ask me what happened, because I'm not quite sure.  One minute I'm bursting with confidence, and the next I get utterly, completely wasted at the concept of giving blood or anything of the sort.

SO, Erin, I didn't actually need to go to the library.  I needed to leave because the mere fact that the woman next to you had a needle in her arm was going to make me faint.  That is also why I was hovering outside the door previously, hoping you were almost done and I wouldn't have to go in.

Perhaps someday you and Grosland can coax me in, but I feel utterly certain that I will pass out if I try.

We shall see...

Tuesday, August 17


Today my turtle bit the hand that feeds him.

Thursday, July 29

Hard Questions

Sometimes I step back and survey my life. And - contrasting all and every rule I've ever heard - it's perfect. In every way that possibly matters, it is pristine.

Why was I given this opportunity? We're told that we are to be tested to the edge of our ability - into the realm where we can only exist with Heavenly Father's aid. And sometimes I feel weak - untested. As if I'm not able or meant to handle difficult things. This isn't to say I'm asking for them, by any means. I am grateful for the life I live and the opportunities I am blessed with. But at the back of my brain there's a nagging - almost like a hook.

Why me? For what reason?

Lol, I'm already starting to feel guilty for questioning it. I have no reason to...

Hope ya'all know how much you bless my life...

Tuesday, July 27


So today I registered the first car to really be *mine*.  Lovely experience, I have to say.  I approached the DMV thinking grumpily that I hadn't remembered to bring a book.  However, like a dream, I strolled into the office, explained what I needed to the smiling ticket lady, received my call number, and, waiting not even five minutes, strolled up to the counter.  The woman was very kind.  She happily asked for the things she needed to do the deed (all of which I had remembered to bring), and within moments I was clutching - not only my registration - but my plates and stickers - which didn't need to come in the mail after all.

Smiling dreamily - about 10 minutes after I'd entered - I left the building and proceeded towards my car, thinking amiably about the hour or so I hadn't expected to have to study that evening, fumbling for my keys, wondering what I'd have for dinner when - it hits me -

My keys.

I walked towards my car, and - feeling utterly foolish - peered inside to see them smiling happily at me from the passenger seat.  Next to my phone.


Anyways.  As most do in my situation, I pounded the window a bit and asked the heavens grumpily why I couldn't win.  Then came the slow, steady realization that - despite having all the worlds technology and my plump American fingertips - it still sucked to be locked out of your car while I began the recognizable process of recovering access.

Contact random stranger, call home, no answer, contact another random (foreign!) stranger, call home (yes, the only phone number I have memorized besides like... Erin's or summat), no answer, check all doors for random miracle left unlocked door (none), walk home (stupid summer weather...), break into apartment (questionable security.  The girl sitting by the pool looked vaguely entertained), searched room, found Leslie's phone - managed to get through to Steph - phone died.  Couldn't find charger.  Had to run around and borrow ANOTHER cell phone, call home again.  Someone answers.  I get the phone numbers I need to contact the people who can help me, and then wait while William (angel he is) comes and picks me up after hauling his poor baby daughters out of the house when they're sick.  He drives me to the DMV where - thank HEAVENS - my timed-parking spot hasn't elicited me a boot.  Yay!

And that's my story for the day.  Aren't you proud.  ;)  Whenever things like this happen, I will spend the first few minutes grumbling.  Then, inevitably (my family hates this) I will begin to play the Pollyanna game.  For instance, I will think to myself gratefully, today might have been a work day.  If I was needed at Zubs I'd have been late!  Or, for instance, wasn't I so very lucky to have the extra key in such close proximity?  Or also, I'm so lucky to have a car to get locked out of!  I had much time to talk to myself as I walked home, and I talked up quite a storm of 'whys' and 'hows' and 'I'm so very blessed'... Sometimes I can't help but despise myself when I'm upset - about anything.

Wednesday, July 21


Recently I had a reasonably deep discussion with my sister (as we were brushing our teeth. Which means, it can't have seemed that deep or even managed to BE that deep. Foaming mouths and lengthy pauses in conversation as individuals vigorously spit do not allow for such. Feel free to argue this point, I will not acquiesce.)

People are spoken of having "bubbles". Comfort zones, 'mormon' bubbles, safety rings, what have you - boundaries in which they reside that exist simply because they have a lack of communication or experience with the other side. These can be expanded, manipulated, or carefully maintained. But all in all, we recognize they exist and - often - are ashamed to admit them. Especially where morality, etc are concerned.

I am one of these ashamed people. This is one of the reasons I dislike sports so much (yes, there are ability bubbles.) I am very VERY ill at sports and at competition in general. I get anxiety out of the wahzoo and I despise every minute of it... But these bubbles are some that I am unwilling to expand.

I am fully aware of my Mormon-girl happy family comfort bubble, and I admit I often feel silly when my 'wiser, more educated' friends discuss something outside of that bubble. I feel foolish and - depending on the subject matter - usually seek to educate myself subtly so as to be fully involved in the conversation. I'm pretty good at this.

But what about comfort zones that we feel like we have expanded - that really still exist in reality? For instance, in a movie we watch people brutally murder each other, we play video games where we hack and slash creatures apart or shoot each other point-blank, etc etc. Yet any number of individuals who experience such violence will faint at the sight of blood, freak out at the sight of injury, spook at the sight of a spider. What are these semi-permeable reality zones that have been created? I can calmly discuss multiple ways to kill someone with toilet paper with one of my friends, and yet the idea of going hunting with my dad and killing/gutting an animal makes me shrink away. I can refer to Erin as a pedophile, discuss rather lengthily with her all the ways in which our ward perceived us to be Lesbians, watch and enjoy movies like Moulin Rouge, etc. Yet I hear of someone raping a child, or hear news of a prostitution ring in Utah Valley and feel sick or horrified. What is the difference between these two realms?

Just curious. And then there are some that cannot be "semi permeated" in this manner. For me, witchcraft, violent, severe mental disturbance and Satanism are some of these. In fiction, in movies, in reality, in anything - these things frighten or disgust me no matter the manner of portrayal. I can't stand scary movies with 'disturbed, dark spirits' that haunt and destroy the living, men who mutilate and torture people, keeping body parts in their freezers or sacrificing creatures or being involved in cults, heresay of people who actively invite Satan into their homes - their lives - so as to further their lives in some twisted manner or other.

Do I sound simple-minded or silly to anyone? A friend of mine suggested a book to me when I was in high school. As I got further and further into the book - which turned out to be an innocent teenage fiction about a Wiccan group of high schoolers and their random adventures - I couldn't finish. There wasn't anything directly spooky or gross or anything. The very underlying concept of realistic witchcraft was too much for me. (Meanwhile I can read 'Angels and Demons' without a problem, happily entertained with a murderous hassassin trailing after and brutally murdering innocent men, and then going to reward himself with prostitutes and power-hungry acts of a similar nature.)

Explanation please? What is the difference between these? What determines these zones - permanent and non-permanent, etc? And how are they different person to person? Almost everyone I know gets a kick out of a film like The Grudge or Silence of the Lambs or Sweeny Todd. Yet these things repel and frighten me more than anything else. By contrast, I will enjoy Gladiator, Taken, 'Wait Until Dark', or Sixth Sense... There are similar elements in all of these. But how and where have I placed the line?

Anyways, this is very much just a ramble. It's on my mind. Feel free to ignore or input. ;)

Friday, July 16


Time is rather silly. As I was doing homework today (for about half an hour but what seemed like four,) I found my mind drifting lazily in the direction of next year's classes as well as contemplating blandly the fact that I have two missionaries out - one that will be home in four or so months (after what seems like maybe half a year) and one that has been out for about six months (after what has seemed like three weeks.) Then I thought vaguely about how I want to go on a mission myself next year and found myself - no joke - glancing at the clock to see how long it would be in months till I could go.

Funny what you catch yourself thinking or doing, eh?

Back to accounting.

An Update, Perhaps?

So... I'm getting good at this disappearing off of the face of the earth thing. ;) How can you measure a person's daily personal interaction level? I suppose it would depend on how long it would take for someone to realize if the person had died. (Morbid, but stick with me here.) Right now (and for much of school) I've been in a rather distant position. Take, for instance, today. If I had been kidnapped/killed/what have you last night as I left Zubs, for instance, let's calculate how long it would take:

This morning - my roommates would likely not notice, seeing as I often spend the night at my house anyways.
KBYU (first job.) - likely as not my absence would generate curiosity in the receptionist who keeps the keys I use, but otherwise, I'm basically invisible during the course of the job. A few things wouldn't get done, but nothing major.
Grounds Crew - I'm essentially a "volunteer" in that regard, so no luck there.
Zubs - I admit, when the time came for me to come in, people would be a bit more frustrated than worried. Steve would likely notice that - although usually punctual - I'd mentioned that the grounds crew might keep me a bit late. He has a good enough opinion of me that I imagine - hopefully - my absence would generate concern. But, with no one able to contact me on my cell, they'd likely find someone to manage for the night and no one would notice.
The next day, however, when I didn't show up for work AGAIN, there'd be some difficulties. However, Zubs has no real way to contact my family - seeing as their only connection to me is a cell phone. (*makes a mental note to include home phone on time card from now on*) So, there'd be nothing to do in that regard.
I'm going on a date tomorrow night. Since I've never met the kid, he'll likely think I just - rudely and badly - stood him up.
Sunday will come. At this point, Leslie will come home from the apartment and - at that point - realize that I've not been at the apartment or at home. Perhaps she'll call a few of my friends and - realizing that they haven't seen me - figure that I've gone to church somewhere random (which I tend to do) and I'll be home that night.
Which, when I don't, I imagine - FINALLY - it will become apparent that I'm dead or dying or whatever. Chaos ensues.

Interesting concepts. :) I bet I could get away with 72 hours... but probably not more than that. No wonder in mystery books, etc, people are always finding random corpses in their bathtubs or whatever. All these lonely people... I'm very fortunate to have so many acquaintances who care about me and wonder where I am...

Wow, I need to get back to work.

Disclaimer: some of you who are paranoid are now wondering if I've started questioning life's purpose and talking about murder. Please please please don't take such indications. You all know I'm happy with life/etc, and I have no reason to write about my own death in such a lighthearted way besides the fact that - ironically - I have no desire whatsoever to die/be killed at this point.

Wednesday, June 23

June 23rd

"Yes, all students are required to follow the honor code," the tour guide said with a gallant smile. The others crowded on the little white carriage car smiled as well, feeling encouraged by the beautiful things they were seeing on the BYU campus. Mrs. Darling sighed contentedly. Surely this was the perfect place for Bobby... particularly as he prepared for his mission. The landscaping was beautiful, the buildings were pristine, and the students and professors seemed to be perfect. Suddenly her husband had a quick intake of breath.

"Excuse me," he said, clearing his throat, "What is that?" He gestured across the way from the statue garden they were admiring, and everyone turned to look. A young, badly dressed, scruffy looking girl trudged by, grunting as she pulled a small squeaky cart laden with many packages. Her clothes were rather unkempt, her hair had clearly been entirely disregarded that morning, and she was only wearing one flip-flop, displaying unsightly, blackish, un-manicured feet. The bare foot seemed to be bleeding. She glanced up, gave them a goofy grin, and continued on, singing something under her breath that sounded like: "Just to make sure you don't drown..."

Silence followed the encounter as she squeaked up the walk and out of sight. Both the Darlings - and everyone else on the carriage - were horrified. They turned to look at the tour guide, who could only stare open-mouthed after the scene.

The tour ended early.

Monday, June 14

Probably The Most Pointless Post I've Written Ever

I'm blue. If I were green... I would die. If I were green I would die. If I were green I would die.

I'm green. If I were red I'd be dead. If I were red I'd be dead. If I were red I'd be dead.

I'm red. If I were brown I would drown. If I were brown I would drown if I were brown I would drown.

I'm brown. If I were black...

... Oh wait. :)

Monday, May 31

Spring Term (take 2).

"Oh yes." Beth's brain peered more closely at the computer. Beth saw herself reflected in the screen. "But how to get past this? This project cannot be procrastinated, worked on in groups, vanished, parted, scooped up, or siphoned away, nor can it be transfigured, charmed or otherwise made to change it's nature."
Almost absentmindedly, Beth's brain placed her hands on the keyboard.
"I can only conclude that this project is supposed to be completed."
"What?" said Beth. "No!"
"Yes, I think so: Only by completing it can I get past the project and end the term."
"But what if - what if it kills you?"
"Oh, I doubt that it would work like that," said Beth's brain easily. "Our professor would not want to kill the person who approached this task."
Beth couldn't believe it. Was this more of her brain's insane determination to see good in everyone?
"Brain," said Beth, trying to keep her voice reasonable, "brain, this is our professor we're-"
"I'm sorry, Beth; I should have said, she would not want to immediately kill the person who approached this task," Beth's brain corrected itself. "She would want to keep them alive long enough to find out how they managed to penetrate so far through her course and, most importantly of all, why they were so intent upon completing this project. Do not forget that our professor believes that she alone knows about passing a class."
Beth made to speak again, but this time her brain silenced her, frowning slightly at the silver surface of the keyboard, evidently thinking hard.
"Undoubtedly," it said, finally, "this project must act in a way that will prevent me from functioning. It might paralyze me, cause me to forget what I am here for, create so much pain I am distracted, or render me incapable in some other way. This being the case, Beth, it will be your job to make sure I keep working, even if you have to force the information into me and onto this screen. You understand?"
Beth didn't speak. Was this why she had even taken classes into spring? So that she could force-feed her brain with information that she would undoubtably never use?
"You remember," said Beth's brain, "the condition on which I let us take this class?
Beth hesitated, looking again at the computer.
"But what if-?"
"You swore, did you not, to follow any instruction I gave you?"
"Yes, but-"
"I warned you, did I not, that there might be danger?"
"Yes," said Beth, "but-"
"Well, then," said Beth's brain, edging her fingers again towards the keys, "you have my orders."

Thursday, May 27

Ode To My One True Love

Oh Macaroni,
Your cheesy goodness always
brings me so much joy.

Wednesday, May 26

Carrying Water

My BOM professor-of-last-semester left something very dear with me. Through one of his project/paper things I got into the habit of praying to better understand doctrine, and of making such doctrines a matter of consistant thought. Like... if I was having trouble being patient (for example. I mean... I'm not impatient AT ALL. ;) I'd pray for patience, study for patience, and - usually - this tended to reap startlingly specific results. This focusing-process has brought me great peace over the last few months - particularly about my future. Regardless, today I had a sweet experience I'd like to share.

Lately my "doctrine of choice" has been the Atonement. I have to admit, the atonement is one I have trouble with. I believe it to be true, and I'm grateful for it, but I've never truly felt it's affects. I've never 'sinned' greatly, and never been able to pinpoint an experience in my life that I could trace to the Atonement and to better my testimony of it. (And now you're all waiting for me to confess a grievous sin, yes?)

I'll be honest, the last week or two of this semester have been some of the most difficult times I've had in years. Due to overload and - I imagine - hormones, I've been lonely, sick, stressed, etc etc. Those weeks happen, and I accept it. In fact, contrary to previous reactions, instead of holing up and being sad, I've managed to keep myself out in the open, trying to help my friends and figuring out life. So I've dealt better with this last while than I think I ever have a hard time. Like... ever.

Anyways, on my mail run one of my duties is to carry water to the dispensers around the KMC. (You know, the big blue jugs?) These are reasonably heavy, but I can comfortably carry one and - for a few feet - two. (I'm such a wimp...) Today I loaded up my cart with seven or so and began to tote them around for dispersal to the four dispensers in the building. I brought the last two to the stairs and glanced up them with a sigh. I wasn't extremely anxious to haul the water up them - particularly since I have a headache/sore back from (I think) carrying too many books and such around this morning. Just then a middle-aged man came down the stairs. He paused, looked at me a bit cynically, and asked what I was doing with the water. I'm pretty used to having older male individuals around the KMC look disapprovingly on as I decline their offers of help and haul the water up myself. I prepared myself for a similar experience and, with a smile, explained that- like every day- I was carrying them upstairs. He came towards me, glanced at the water and then looked me in the eye. He must've seen some sort of desperation or pain or whatever, because a gentle smile passed over his face, and he said quietly: "I know you're fully capable of carrying these yourself. But would you like any help? I wouldn't want my wife to carry these."

A moment later he was carrying one up the stairs, me following behind with second. After we had distributed them, I thanked him quickly and went to hide in the bathroom and sob. I don't know what had come over me. But this man - for whatever reasons of his own - had brought profound gratitude into my heart. I felt Heavenly Father's love through the kind deed of this man and I wanted immediately to show that love to someone else in need.

I'd entreat everyone reading this to do something for the next person you encounter - whether a good act or a soft word. The Atonement gave Christ the knowledge and experience necessary to bear our burdens - we are never alone in our experiences. Don't just accept this knowledge, but live it - look for it in your own life and - through such charitable tender mercies as the one shown me this morning - try to touch others and remind them of Christ's unchanging love.

Sunday, May 23

Spring Term

So I finally figured out what was wrong with my blogging-reader-thing and now I can read all the blogs I've been missing out on. :) I particularly enjoyed Groslandia's tabloid description of her classes, so I am going to do one of my own! (*cue groaning audience*) Unfortunately I have no excuse for not posting besides my life is routine... but that's not news, is it?

Much to my distress, unlike Grosland (who is taking spring classes to get a hard class out of the way) I am indeed taking Spring because I just... can't get enough of school... LOL. That and I want to have as much done as possible before I go on my hypothetical mission next winter. But really... I like summer and all but only for a week or so... then I want school again very badly. Not to say I won't complain the whole way through... but I'd be whining either way (whether about how bored I am or about how busy I am) so I might as well be productive while I whine.

I'm sure after that dialogue you all want desperately to read on. ;)

Latin Ballroom
Okay, we all know what a freak I am for ballroom... watching it, that is. BYU ballroom classes are pretty much impossible to get into if you're female and not a senior. So when I saw a spot in the ballroom class I signed up then and there. Naturally, its LATIN and not standard. I've learned a few things in this class (besides dancing which - despite stepping on my OWN toes with high heeled shoes and getting my toes stepped on by most apologetic men - is pretty much epic.) Firstly, if you make it lightly clear that you aren't interested, most guys will - thank HEAVENS - leave you alone. Secondly, guys can indeed "move their hips" when they are very theoretically and carefully shown how. (Their astonished expressions as they view themselves in the mirror never fail to make my day.) And lastly, if you go work out for an hour and then swim for another hour EVERY MORNING at five, you'll look like you are 25 forever.
Okay, I didn't learn this firsthand. But my instructor basically does just that. He's like... 40 and we all thought he was a student teacher. Talk about disappointing. ;)

Chem 101
Haderlie was right. EVERYTHING he mentioned haughtily about chem in college was absolutely true. I'm just throwing that out there. This class is probably my favorite - simply because I'm simply relearning chemistry - which I incidentally love, despite my worrisome inability. It's a large class, so there isn't much person-to-person interaction besides the "experimental lab" we're required to do outside of class. I was immediately adopted the first day by a girl sitting next to me. "Sarah" - thank the heavens - reached out to my poor anti-social self and worked out a regular time during the week when we could do the lab. Otherwise... not much to say. Besides demonstrations get a lot more exciting in college than they were in high school... (think bright orange foam.)

Landscape Graphics
What can I say? I've found my calling. ;) Just kidding, but seriously, I love every moment of this class. It's like if you too architectural drafting and threw it in with an art class. All the planning and none of the strict guidelines! I'm so lazy... anyways, this class is brought to you by 'learning to draw trees from above' and 'buying a set of markers for $70.00'. We basically learn the artistic/technical aspects of landscape plan presentations. It's a bit of a project-heavy class, but it's the kind of project that you look forward to, so I have no problem with that...

Western Humanities
This is the class that I am - right now - procrastinating homework for. Yay! We all know my history complex (meaning I love to learn it and such but I despise writing about it) and humanities is no different. This class is most entertaining because it's an artistically focused class about many of the civilizations I studied last year in my Ancient Near Eastern History class. Putting faces to names and names to faces... it's really satisfying! Anyways, my teacher just recently graduated with a (masters?). She's not extremely young, has several kids, and I guess decided to return to college. (Gives me hope for the future, eh?) She is - like most history majors, I'm beginning to think - passionate about her studies. She loves this class and loves the subject. But I think she's taking the fact that she only has two months to cover it out on us in the form of reading. This class is just dripping with reading and - with 5.5 other credits, it's taking a chunk out of my sanity. But it is giving me an excuse to read Illiad and Odyssey and Aenied among other things/philosophers/plays/etc etc. So it's a very love-hate relationship class, I have to say.

And that's all! I moved out of Wyview and now I live at Roman Gardens Apts - somewhere near Golds Gym in Provo. I think everyone in my complex thinks I'm inactive because everyone's really friendly and I've only been to church once (with homecomings, farewells, and other such) with this ward. But I'm going again today, so we'll see how that goes...

And life is pretty much the best ever. :) I love school, I love work, I love my family/friends, I love where I live, and I love the opportunity to be at this campus. No complaints.

(How was THAT for Zoobism, Logan?)