bam/boom roasted

The Office. What is the first thing that comes to your mind? Could it be dwight's collection of wigs, gathered in the event that he will need to pass as one of his co-workers? Could it be Pam's "homer simpson of scranton" complex? Could it be Andy's insistence on being called the Nard-dog? Could it be Michael's string of unsuccesful relationships, painfully brought back from distant memory because he thinks he has herpes? Or maybe Erin's awkward father daughter complex with her boss, resulting in even more awkward goings-on with Gabe and Holly? The answer is E: all of the above.

Before I went to college, I watched The Office a total of two seperate occasions. What was I missing and what was I thinking? Thankfully, the boys upstairs/ katie and chelsey have converted me. When they started saying BAM. ROASTED. I had no notion of the origin of such a phrase. Since then, we have put bam roasted on the quote wall, used it lots, and learned, (thanks again to the boys upstairs. dang you for being right.) that the phrase is actually, in reality, boom roasted. not bam roasted. We bet on it and were promptly defeated. shoot. its boom. painful to be proven wrong, but hey, we got to watch the video clip, so what's there to complain about? If I could laugh that hard every time I was proved wrong, my laugh lines would be way worse and I would be way happier.

Long story short, youtube it. unless you are mom. you wouldn't think it was funny.

Dear

Katie,
We all know I steal ideas. I am stealing yours. Also, you are my favorite.

Bekah,
I like you. And your child, and watching tv in the middle of the night, and our hand slapping game.

Matthew,
Sorry I was busy today. I will play with you, I promise. Also, please stop throwing socks at my face.

Mom and Dad,
you are really nice to me.

Erin and Ben,
you are also really nice to me. And I like you both a lot. Why do you have to move away?

Libby,
Your mom and dad are going to move and take you along. Unless I kidnap you and keep you instead. How do you feel about that?

Emma Lemon,
You are pretty.

Alex,
I want a new theme song. Please.

You,
Answer the phone you bum. I have exciting things to tell you.

Cosmos,
Fine. Make me stressed. You'll never take me alive.

Love, Amy

Holiday Hater, part 2

This one is an analogy. As previously mentioned, I am the Grinch.

The Grinch goes over to visit whoville ( which is code for the Banks household), where are found many happy little whos. Now in this story, the Grinch didn't actually steal Christmas or anything, she was just generally a christmas hater. And then the head who/Julie gave the Grinch a Christmas Present comprised of an empty box and a story about a little boy who gave his teacher an empty box and told her it was filled with love ("It's filled with love. Can you see it?") The Grinch took it home and read it and almost bawled. And then the Grinch's nephew friend Matthew (who replaced max, who retired last year, I guess) said, "Aunty, open the box. I wanna see the love." So he took the empty box and went around asking everybody if they could see the love, resulting in a "heart grew three sizes" type event.

The Point: chaos still bugs the crap out of me. and I don't like not getting presents for everyone. But it doesn't really matter, cause when Matthew showed me the empty box, I could see the love.

Sonnet 116

Which one, you ask? There are a lot of Sonnet 116's out there in the world. But it is obviously by Shakespeare. Because if it wasn't, I would have to include the author, seeing as how all other sonnet writers are automaticaly inferior to the good old Bard. Note to everyone who ever knew me: from this point on, if the author is not specified, automatically assume I am taking about Shakespeare. Duh.

Back to 116... This morning I was seized by the irresistible desire to watch Sense and Sensibility. Which I tried to do. Then I realized that the yellow part of the cord that goes between the tv and the vcr, enabling tv usage, is broken yet again. This must have happened sometime yesterday when I was rearranging the living room, an activity which involved carrying around tvs and stuff. Jeff Clifford, be relived. It was my fault this time. (Dang. I still think there is something wrong with the plug, or why would it always be the yellow one that breaks?) So I was really depressed because Sense and Sensibility is a vhs, hence introducing the impossibility of just watching it on my laptop. Suck. And then I realized that I have the whole thing memorized anyway, so I will just watch it in my head. (this is actually a common activity for me. I tend to watch the same movies over and over again and then I just memorize them. This is a handy tool when you are in a really boring class, or waiting in lines, or in desperate need to escape the company of everyone around you who won't. quit. talking)
 So I was sitting on my couch watching it in my mind and I got to the part with Marianne and Willoughby reading sonnets and falling in love. (Dang computer. Shut it. I spelled Willoughby right. Your vocabulary is simply inferior to mine.) Anyway, they fall in love and they sort of have 116 as their theme sonnet, and then willoughby decides to be a scuzzer and all that crap. (by the way, I don't believe in falling in love. you slipped in mud, and all of a sudden, you are in love! No.) And we come to the scene where Marianne is standing in the rain looking at Willoughby's house and saying the sonnet and every woman in the room starts crying, and then Colonel Brandon comes and saves the day!

So all this was happening and I was thinking about Shakespeare. He is great, but I do have one qualm about his writing. So many of his plays are about love, but a lot of the time they get it wrong. Romeo and Juliet, Midsummer night's dream, etc. These people fall in 'love' and then do horrible things to each other. That is not how it works. But I think this sonnet is the part where Shakespeare really gets it right.  Love, even if it isn't romantic, should be the constant in everything else that happens. Because when you really love someone, you are in it all the way no matter what, not just for whatever they can give you, because real love is service. This one is actually already on the blog, but I believe it so I'll say it again. Toni Morrison said " Love is or it ain't. Thin love ain't love at all." So true. Thin love could be called mild affection, but its not the real thing. That is what is so great about Sense and Sensibility. Because the whole time Colonel Brandon loves Marianne and does stuff to help her even though he knows he is never going to get anything back from her. (and then he does, and we all cheer.) And Willoughby gets nothing good, because he is selfish and he leaves when she can't save him financially. Again. Scuzzer. A handsome one, but still a scuzzer.

This is the part where you all ignore the fact that I am being all sappy about Shakespeare/ Jane Austen. And you give me a break because after all, I am not an English major for nothing. This is also the part where everybody goes and watches that movie and marvels at Shakespeare's brilliance. Anyway...

I'm going to go watch all those other vhs movies I own in my head while I pack. peace.

The end of an era

As you all know, today marks the successful completion of my first semester in college. It's been an interesting four months, and some of it was the terrifying, "what the heck am I doing and why did I think I could pull that off?" type of interesting. But most of it was actually the "best. day. ever. life is fantastic." type of interesting. Some new habits have been formed, some good and some decidedly less than wise. The homework part, the part where I actually learned to study which I never did in High School ever part, the budgeting/being as cheap as I can part, and the actual use of a planner were all really good things. The eating ramen till I am sick, the drinking lots of diet coke, the staying up all night watching movies, etc was maybe not as good, but it was really fun. Life, aka college, is filled with great stuff, like having dance parties with corny yet classic music from the nineties, drinking margaritas (sprite. chill.) with all your roommates when one of them gets engaged, playing the "do you really need that?" game at walmart, searching for wedding ideas on the internet while watching the wedding planner, watching Hot Rod and then quoting it every day, blogstalking people you don't even know, having study parties where you run around the building ever hour to stay alert (muddy socks will wake you up for sure), sitting at the kitchen table with a bunch of roommates while you pass around the carton of ice cream and one spoon, etc. I also learned a few things, such as:
- Diet Coke is good for studying. But it isn't very good for sleep. There is a fine line between studying adequately and sleeping adequately in prep for a final. I crossed that line, resulting in taking my English final on four hours of sleep. I may or may not have taken a nap in the middle of it.
- Winter in Logan= an icy/snowy/slushy/slippery/ death defying walk to school. Note* the HPER field only looks like it snowed. In reality, it slushed for a good six inches and then snowed in order to trap unsuspecting freshmen in its clutches when they are late for class and need a shortcut. But now that we know the secrets of the fire swamp, we could live there happily for some time. Wait, did I say fire swamp? That's too easy. I meant the weather here in happy cache valley, which is infinitely more deadly.
- The south building managers are way nicer than our building managers. Never go ask the grumpy dude across the hall for change, or to come fix your leaking ceiling, or to get new batteries for the smoke detector that has suddenly started emitting an ear splitting, shrieking banshee noise ever three minutes and twenty seconds weather we all have headaches or not. He will wait at least three days before doing anything about it and frown at you the whole time.
-Never assume that the ground up on campus is dry even if it is dry outside your apartment, especially if you plan to wear moccasins. After a good seven hours walking around up there, your feet will be so frozen that you will fall, cry if they ever start to thaw out, and/or get all the way across the street before you realize your shoe is still in the middle of the road. ( No kidding, it actually happened.)
- Don't make a quote wall out of tin foil on the wall right by the window. Condensation, mold, disgusting smells when the heater is turned up, breathing gross crap, etc. All of that will happen. And you won't even know why until you take down the quote wall. at which point the wall cleaning will commence. Windex and scrubbing bubbles aren't really meant to use on walls, but we were out of Clorox wipes, so what else can you do, right?
- The dark circles under your eyes only go away if you sleep at night. My theory is that once the sun comes up, dark circle shrinkage ceases. That must be it, because the dark circles seem to be here to stay.  Yet another reason I should start sleeping at night and getting up in the morning, as opposed to staying up until the wee hours of the morning and getting up twenty minutes before class starts.  Either that or buy makeup.

In the end, I feel like I learned a lot from my classes, but I think I learned a lot more from just living here at college and being (mostly) responsible for myself. More than any other time in my whole life, I am on the verge of freaking out almost constantly. But I am getting good at not freaking out, and maybe sometime I'll be far enough away from the verge that I won't have to keep reminding myself to breathe. On the flip side, it is really exciting to get good grades, actually study, go to church, do my calling, go to institute, and all the good stuff and know that I am doing it because I want to. I love getting a bunch done and being able to tell the world, I did all this and I feel like a champion today. So here goes. Finals are done, living room is vacuumed and rearranged, textbooks bought, room cleaned, wall de-molded, and I am still breathing. I am a champion today.

Dear parental units,

I think you are great. Also, I am excited to see you on Saturday. Also, I really like it when you drive, dad. Because nobody asks me for directions and I know that if we die it is definitely because God wants us to and not cause we are driving weird. (Unless you are reading your email, which you never do anymore *cough* because Mom made you promise, right?) Also, be really glad I don't live above your ceiling anymore because I can't sleep and we all know that when I can't sleep it is usually because the spirit has called me to war against the forces of uncleanliness, and I inevitably go to, wielding as my sabre a vacuum wand. Although I am now in college, the spirit still moves me to irrational action in all sorts of wee hours of the morning and I can't clean but gee do I write my best essays at three am. Which is also loud because I type quite forcefully when I get excited, which I always do while I am writing essays, which is because I am sort of an odd duck that way. Can you tell, dearest mom, that it is super late/early? Can't sleep (thank you, diet coke), but I am also feeling slightly loopy. long story short, I like you guys. Make saturday come faster, okay dad? Don't even try to make excuses, because we all know you are superman. You can't hide the talent. Just like I can't hide the sleep deprivation. So Goodnight.

Love,
Your caffeine/ finals crazed daughter

Gingers.

At our house we have this theory about gingers. They are inescapably gingeresque and can never be anything else. I can't explain what it is, so don't ask. Those who know what I am talking about don't need it explained, and those who don't wouldn't understand. But i do think there is a difference between a redhead and a ginger. Katie tells me that this is never true. But I maintain. All gingers are of course redheads, but not all redheads are gingers. For example, there is this boy I met on the bus once upon a time three weeks ago. He has flaming red hair. Flaming. But I don't think he is a ginger. And that is why  we talked the whole way home and actually created inside jokes in those ten minutes. It was a good ten minutes. We covered majors, literature, engineering, broadway, music, and teaching. All in six hundred seconds. Then, despite the fact that he lives across the street and we both ride the bus everyday, I didn't see him again until this morning when he got off campus loop as I was getting on stadium express. Not only did we recognize each other instantly and smile wide, he actually remembered some insignificant thing I said and said as he walked past, "No machetes. That would be bad." (Don't ask) Wow. He remembered that? Second time I see him and we have skipped past all the stages of awkward eye contact and conversation recovery and straight onto the inside jokes. I feel that this bodes well. It is a wee bit irrational that I felt that excited when I saw him this morning. But I am okay with irrational, seeing as how he seemed excited too.

Katie, here is my confession. When I said it was fine that I hadn't seen him again and I didn't even care that much, that was wishful thinking. (Cause I am sure you completely believed me.) Call me a creeper, but I might actually start riding the bus all the time instead of just when it is nasty outside.

What is katie is right, and he is a ginger instead of just a redhead? There is a distinct possibility that I might like this boy. Dang boys. Dang ginger boys.

shout out to jess

who is katie's sister, who i have only met once. i don't know her, but i really appreciate the clothes she got rid of that katie distributed amongst us. new favorite skirt acquired. i also blogstalk her quite faithfully which is maybe sort of creepy. but as long as i can laugh that hard, i'll take creepy. katie and i also quote her on a near daily basis. because she says awesome things. " don't worry, i drank a diet coke, and that is why the world goes round."

jessie, if we ever actually meet and say more than hello, i will tell you in person that my blog wants to be like your blog when it grows up.

you know those times

when you are walking down memory lane. just a small stroll in your own cerebellum, and suddenly you remember all at once those things that were just wierd. those things that you don't exactly regret, but you really wonder if somebody spiked your diet coke before you did them? i thought of some of those today.

- the time i was at work and said booze. let me be clear. i wasn't being clear. and christian and alex thought i said boobs. this is wierd enough. but let's explain why it was significantly worse than it sounds. we had nicknames from mash at work and we would joke about it all the time. mine was charles, because apparently, within this specific group i was the pretentious knowitall who mostly fit in but was on occasion the brunt of scorn/practical jokes. (along with gina who was hotlips) in the true spirit of the winchesters, i told christian and alex (hawkeye and trapper) that if they were going to be mean then i wouldn't share my booze. hence the horror when they thought i said.... you know. that other word.

-the time i held that one guys hand. oh gosh. all i have to say is i am glad that jessica was there to stick up for me and give him a hard time about it when he said mean things.

- junior year. callbacks for the illiad. and we were supposed to be reciting the jabberwock but in different types of scenes as per Schmid's smallest whim. for example: deadly secret, divine intervention, etc. and of course, because we are in drama, there was the unwilling seduction, and the equally scandalous willing secuction. just because it was me and the universe has a sense of humor, i ended up with austin smith on the willing seduction round, and we got into it. schmid actually made that little throat clearing noise and moved on rather quickly. i had to make it convincing right?  sometimes i think about it and cringe a little bit. or a lot bit.
(not that i don't love you, austin. it was just a very uncharacteristically risque day for me.)

- that time i went on my first date with mitch. i asked him because i needed a date for brighton date night. why did i think that would be fun again? if i was smart i would have just made nate go with me. always the safe option. always.

- going to work on lortab. bad idea. very bad idea.

(Blah)gging.

Dear Internet,
I hate my blog background. Also, there are no cute ones to switch to. Also, no one will ever read this so it doesn't matter if my blog background sucks. Also, I am really sick of singing those same two songs in that same old show and I have six minutes until I have to go do it again. If Mendelsson was alive I would apologize for spelling his name wrong because that is just the kind of grammar freak I am, and then I would shoot him for making that show longer than it had to be by writing music to it. Also, for putting in only two songs that are in different acts, because that means that I have to be there for three freaking hours and I am only onstage for ten freaking minutes. Is that an appropriate timewasting to performance ratio? No freaking way, man! Also I have a headache that has not got away for what feels like my whole life but is actually closer to four days, which is a lot shorter than my whole life but still way too long for a headache to last. Also, the grumpy managers across the hall wouldn't let me have a vacuum at five seventeen because, "It has to be before five. Sorry." Like * you are sorry. Sorry people don't sound that smug. Fact. Also, I am really tired of ramen noodles. I want to eat actual food. Also, I am dreading my religious studies final. Because it isn't stuff you can actually have answers to, like, 'Pick three monotheistic religions and identify their cosmogony traditions' differences and similarities.' That is doable, albeit incredibly boring. No, he asks questions like "According to David Wolpe's definition of religion, what is the inherent risk in asserting belief in God and/or religious tradition through the lens of existentialism?" Can anyone actually understand that and come up with an intelligent answer? ( if you can, don't tell me. bubble- poppers are not appreciated.) Also, I wonder why life is not like chick flicks. Is it because God is in charge and men don't like chick flicks? That was a really blasphemous thing to say. (That's right, Tori. Go get the tar.)

I am in a really yucky mood, hence the blah. Not that anybody noticed.

*That word I am not supposed to say, let alone post on the internet for my mother to read.

Well, now that all that angst is out of my system, I can study some more. Which won't help all that much, because I am pretty sure studying and paper writing is the catalyst for all the angst. Sigh.