Feb 23, 2006

Macaroons and Mustard

(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)

I’m in a computer lab and the guy sitting next to me is working on a power point about A Doll’s House. Whenever I think about that play I’m suddenly sitting in Shiva’s living room and laughing like a maniac about something that had to do with macaroons. But I can never quite remember exactly what was so funny.

And, yet again, a Nate quote:

“I feel so sorry for people who don’t like mustard and/or onions. I mean, they’re going to spend their WHOLE lives working so hard to make it to the Celestial Kingdom, and then they’ll get there and realize that they don’t even like the sandwiches there. Because, let’s be honest, heavy on the mustard and heavy on the onions is as close as you get to divinity in this life.”

Feb 21, 2006


(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)

So I’m back in Provo after a lovely weekend excursion to good ol’ Ridgecrest. And I’m pretty sure “good ol’ Ridgecrest” is the actual name of the town. I rode down with Timothy, and it didn’t take too long before we decided we wanted to give being together the ol’ college try again. This may or may not have been because we missed having someone to make out with.

But we do truly have a fabulous relationship and I’m really really really (though in general I oppose the juvenile theory that the more “really”s one puts in front of something the more they mean it) excited about having him again.

Feb 13, 2006

I Can't Get No Satisfaction

(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)

It's one of those rare horrible days when I'm dissatisfied with everything. And I don't want to be a student and I suck at it anyway. And I don't like my major and I suck at it anyway. And I don't want to hang out with the people I keep hanging out with, and it's not like they like me anyway. And I need money. And I need sleep. And I need to just be alone sometimes and people are always around and what are you supposed to do with them? And how about I just withdraw from all my classes and go home this weekend and stay home and I'll just lie around there and...and there's where the plan falls apart because when it comes down to it, what realistic life options do I have besides just trucking along here? I don't want to do it, though.

Luckily, the phase will pass and tomorrow I'll most likely wake up ready to take on the world. But...for now...I'm tired of it all.

Feb 11, 2006

Yet another random thoughts compiled while supposed to be doing homework entry

(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)

The eye people have determined that my sister Kayla is colorblind. None of the eye doctors in Ridgecrest have ever seen a colorblind female before. But actually Nate figured out the Mendelian statistics of it all, and apparently half of the female children in my family should be colorblind. I’m glad I’m not.

My junior and especially senior years of high school were spent listening to NPR. I basically always had it on if there wasn’t anything else going on. I think it was kind of an awakening time for me. I give credit to NPR for making me think about the world outside of mine, especially the political world, for the first time in my life. I mean, I was always an avid newspaper reader and such, but that was the Daily Independent for most of my life, so, no credit there. For a while there, I could even recognize most of the reporters voices for All Things Considered, Marketplace, and Morning Edition. I kind of miss those days. And even to this day, the All Things Considered theme song somehow just does something for me. I hear it and I’m suddenly driving around West Lafayette, Indiana, a lot of the time. I should start listening regularly again.

So I compulsively buy educational children’s books. Everyone has a compulsive buyer weakness. This just happens to be mine.

Jared and Nate got braces a few days ago. Marsha’s very excited about it because she’s held a long belief that my parents don’t care about how their children look and will never pay for something like braces or acne medicine or clothes or hair products. And she is a thirteen-year-old girl, meaning she’s the most emotional thing on the planet and cries on a regular basis about things like her crooked teeth. Never tell her something like “that shirt doesn’t really go with that skirt.” She will cry and not speak to you for days. But braces have been a sore spot for her for years. I’ve certainly learned not to ever say my teeth are crooked or I need braces in front of her, for nobody wants to hear the tirade: “But you still have the best teeth in the family! You could probably even get married without going through braces! The rest of us have no hope of that! Look at my teeth! Gahhh, but don’t look at them…who could ever love THIS??!!”

From the processors in the back who are all of course not working and instead putting extensive effort into deciding what Brit-Marie should name her baby: “Andrea is not a hot girl name.” Ouch. But oh well, and least they’re not working and I won’t have any of their finished paperwork to image.

As it gets closer to tomorrow, I’m realizing how dang scary it is to speak in sacrament meeting. I’ve never spoken as not a youth speaker before. I kind of like the attention, but…what are you supposed to say? And it’s worse in a single’s ward. You feel like everyone’s judging you because they’re all your peers. And the truth of the matter is: several of them are. How much judging have I done when people speak in sacrament meeting? A lot.

The last few days I’ve wanted to change my major to math. I’m sure it’s just one of those phases I go through, but still. Math. It’s just so cool. I think it’s my math modeling professor’s fault. He’s such a horrible teacher that I just want to be a math teacher because I would be so much better than him. And math is just so pretty. All the numbers and symbols and it’s all so logical and…wouldn’t it just be really fun to take a bunch of math classes? And I’ve forgotten so much about calculus and such and it makes me really sad.

Feb 8, 2006

I Believe

(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)

So I just barely got out of my math test. It was just one problem and would've been fairly simple if it hadn't been for the fact that I forgot my calculator and had to do everything without one. Believe me, it takes FOREVER to figure out 3^23, and the like, by hand. But the teacher just posted the answer, and by some miracle I got it right! Hooray! I was really surprised. I figured I had to have made some mistake along the way with all of that arithmetic. I give all the credit to the fact that I was praying my face off the whole time. There's no other way.

Feb 7, 2006


(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)

My mother is going to Beverly Hills today for consultation on a nose job. Sound like her? No, I don't think so either. It's actually because she had a chunk of her nose removed because of skin cancer and needs some reconstruction. I told her I hope it's Dr. Ellenbogen, but then realized that she probably has never watched E! before in her life, whereas I have wasted a good chunk of my life with quality programing like Dr. 90210.

Best part of Dr. 90210 has always been playing the "Is Dr. Rey Mormon?" game. Oh, Dr. Rey. "Listen to him pray! There's no way he's not Mormon!" "But look at what he's wearing! And look at what his wife is wearing!" "He said two young men introduced him to Christ in Brazil...what does that sound like to you?" "But all he does with his life is boob jobs for porn stars." But then all our doubts were quelled the time when we spotted a picture of an LDS temple in his house. So he has to be. Right? Or at least somewhat.

Feb 6, 2006

Parpan, here I come

(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)

A good game is the “Wikipedia random article” game. You push the random article link and the first place you get is where you will live someday, the first male you get (or female, if you happen to be male) is what your future husband (or wife) will look like, and the first thing you get is what your future occupation will involve. So I’m going to be living in the Swiss village of Parpan with my husband that looks like Jean-Luc Picard and I’ll be working for WPPN, an Illinois Spanish oldies radio station. Hours of entertainment, no? Okay, so no.

I’ve somehow concocted a song that is a blend of “I Remember” by Kenny Chesney and “Lost in Hollywood” by System of a Down that has been stuck in my head all day. I’m not sure why. Well, I suppose “I Remember” is somewhat fitting for the mood of today. But that’s about it.

So I had just had a break up talk and we’d decided that was it for us. I hadn’t told anyone yet. And I walk into my apartment after it all and the first thing Emily says to me is “You are NOT doing anything on Valentine’s Day.” I look at her in shock, laugh despite the sting, and say, “Yep. I’m not,” and walk into my room only somewhat listening to her explanation that it’s going to be one of Brittany’s last nights and it’s the only night good for a final roommate party night. Later I tell her that Timothy and I have broken up and ask her if she remembers what the first thing she said to me when I walked in the door was and she looks at me in horror, “I didn’t know! You know that, it’s not like I was trying to rub it in or anything.” And of course I know. But still, the irony. Man.

Oh, Blake:

“I have an overwhelming fear of asking a woman when she’s due, only to find out she’s not pregnant.”

“When Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman broke up, it was like my world was crumbling all around me.”

Feb 3, 2006

Book covers

(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)

Somewhere inside me lies a deep hope that Brad and Angelina's baby ends up being really ugly. I think it comes from the same part of me that wants to name my children ugly names (Olga, Herman, etc.) and have them end up gorgeous. I just get a kick out of things not looking like people expect. But of course I won't do the ugly name thing. What if my kids somehow end up ugly (despite the great-looking genes they'll inherit from their parents, I'm sure) and then they just look ugly AND have an ugly name? It would be a tragedy.

Whoever's idea it was to have phones/atms have a different number layout than keyboards/calculators deserves to be shot.

Feb 2, 2006

Natie, again

(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)

Sorry to do this to you all again, but my goodness, the kid just kills me:

"I've already written like three more programs since the last email. One was a coin flipping program that I wrote in like a minute becuase I needed a coin for a probablilty bio lab. Another pushes the phrase 'all is fair in love and war' to the limit becuase it is totaly cheating. All it does is store answers to the rating system under new variables so that I can trick anyone into rating someone and then I can look at there answers later. Pretty immature, but hey this could come in handy. Right now I have a three step plan. Sometimes I call it the five-year plan, but it may take longer. I'm reluctant to send this over email in case it gets intercepted but here it is. First I gradually let the fact that I write programs be made known to a certain person that will now be given the code word lum. If you don't know who that is, crack this code.(plug lum into formula in amlasdrowkcab factors of 187.) Hopefully you can crack that. So then I let lum play some of my games and introduce her to RGRS. Eventualy she'll be asking of sugestions of people to rate, and after a few names I'll recomend myself. Then when she least expects it, Ill quickly type RSS and hit enter. Olvin Koolidge (that means OK to Dallin and I, its a long story) so here's a code. If I say I have a lot of homework, that means that I have a lot of homework, if I say I have a whole lot of homework, It means I have initiated phase one. If I say I have alot of homework (no space in alot) that means I have completed phase two. If I say red 5 standing by, the eagle has left the building hotel echo charley kentucky yankee echo alpha hotel. Then I have completed the five-year plan and may create a code to send the results. I advise you to make a copy of this in word and title it something like tenth grade bacteria report and then put it in a webdings font."

Makes my day really.

Feb 1, 2006

State of the Scarf

(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)

Watched the State of the Union address last night with Emilee. So the evening was of course was filled with all sorts of intense political discussion:

“What would you do if you were Dick Cheney and had to fart?” “I bet you about every thirty seconds someone in there lets one.”

“Oh my gosh, John McCain has gained like 300 pounds, hasn’t he?”

“If they could get Condi Rice on ‘How Do I Look?’, I would be a happier person today.”

“If I were President Bush, I wouldn’t say the phrase ‘weapons of mass destruction’ again. That’s just embarrassing.”

“Scarf Boy!”

“What do you have to do to be part of Laura Bush’s entourage?”

“Did he just kiss Condi? Is that allowed?”

But seriously, does anyone know who scarf boy is? Some random guy in the audience with a multi-colored scarf that you would think they would have some sort of dress code against. And the channels we watched showed him like 3 times.

Bloody Drive

(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)

Just so you know, giving blood was worst than expected. It went swimmingly at first. I confirmed that I hadn’t had sex with someone from Nigeria, etc. I sat down next to good ol’ Becky Connolly, of all people to happen to be giving blood at the same time as I, who was able to give me all the exciting news from wonderful Lafayette Indiana Stake. (“Brad Porter’s on his mission now.” “Really? Where’d he go?” “I don’t know.” “How’s his girlfriend taking it?” “I don’t know.” “You suck.”). And then sat there and listened to Coldplay and tried not to think about the needle invading my arm. Well apparently I have small veins and low blood pressure so it took me twice as long as anyone else to get the bag full. But whatever, not a huge deal. The bigger deal was how I got up afterwards, went to the snack table and suddenly felt like I was going to vomit and then my vision blacked out. It was only for a second, but it was a terrifying second, I assure you. So I hurried over to sit down and happened to sit next to a guy I’d met waiting in line earlier. He tried to talk to me, but I just shook my head, too weak or too shaken up to say anything, and he realized something was wrong and went and got me water and a nurse. I lay down for a while, right there on the floor of the Wilk. Eventually all was well. But I did end up being quite late to work. I hadn’t planned on needing half-an-hour to recover after giving blood.

Part of the tests they did before was taking my blood pressure. Apparently I have 90/60. The nurse said “Wow, that’s low. That’s good, though.” I’ve never really thought about blood pressure before, so after it all I spent some time researching it. And depending on what source you go by, I either have the very bottom rung of normal blood pressure, or I actually have low blood pressure, which some accounts will say is a bad thing and means I’m prone to weakness and fatigue and fainting. But at any rate, I’m not going to die of a stroke or heart attack anytime soon. Well, I suppose I can’t just assume that, but my odds are extremely good.