(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
The back of our ward directory is the official nickels scorecard for the official nickels trio (Emilee, Tim, and me). Since we are throwing it away and need the points recorded for future generations...but actually mostly because I just want to brag...here are the results:
Total Wins:
Andrea-10
Emilee-2
Timothy-9
Highest Score(for those not familiar with the game, high=bad/low=good):
Emilee-865
Lowest Score:
Andrea-110
I'd like to thank Laura for introducing me to the world of nickels and Timothy and Emilee for sucking at the game.
Apr 27, 2006
Apr 25, 2006
Take That
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
Even if Jane Austen characters never kiss in the novel, we all know that they were secretly making out all over the place. They had to have been…Emma and Mr. Knightley, Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, Elinor and Edward, Fanny and Edmund….they had to have been. Jane Austen just must not have seen them. Or perhaps she saw them but didn’t choose to share their private moments with the world.
Even if Jane Austen characters never kiss in the novel, we all know that they were secretly making out all over the place. They had to have been…Emma and Mr. Knightley, Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, Elinor and Edward, Fanny and Edmund….they had to have been. Jane Austen just must not have seen them. Or perhaps she saw them but didn’t choose to share their private moments with the world.
Quotes: year II
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
It's wrapping up here. We took down the quoteboard this morning. Here's the complete list:
"Okay, so roommate rule number one: No naked yoga."
"'Strumming my pain with his fingers'...that line just speaks to me." "You know what line speaks to me? 'Lend me some sugar; I am your neighbor!'"
"My sister is like a cocker spaniel...water goes straight through her."
"Do you have really big feet for a short person?"
"So what are you guys talking about?" "Sex." "Oh! That's what my dad does for a living!"
"Vietnam isn't above South Korea...What ARE you??!!"
"I hate having a conscience."
"That would be weird if you were a Muggle."
"Until it's time to DTR, take advantage of..." "The free meals?"
"Humans can lick hands, too."
"It's doctrine! Our New Testament proffessor said a 25-year-old could be a grandma."
"My nipples could shatter glass."
"If I had to wear diapers all the time would you change me?"
"Well this is progressing, as they would say in the Progressive Era of the United States."
"My hair is the most useless thing on the planet." "Have you never heard of Lil' Bow Wow?"
"Did someone in this apartment call 9-1-1?"
"It was an erotic high-five."
"Since I don't have a husband, my sheets shouldn't stink."
"Wow, it looks like that are preparing for a genesis."
"Can you tell I'm flexing my butt?" "You're pinching! You're pinching!"
It's wrapping up here. We took down the quoteboard this morning. Here's the complete list:
"Okay, so roommate rule number one: No naked yoga."
"'Strumming my pain with his fingers'...that line just speaks to me." "You know what line speaks to me? 'Lend me some sugar; I am your neighbor!'"
"My sister is like a cocker spaniel...water goes straight through her."
"Do you have really big feet for a short person?"
"So what are you guys talking about?" "Sex." "Oh! That's what my dad does for a living!"
"Vietnam isn't above South Korea...What ARE you??!!"
"I hate having a conscience."
"That would be weird if you were a Muggle."
"Until it's time to DTR, take advantage of..." "The free meals?"
"Humans can lick hands, too."
"It's doctrine! Our New Testament proffessor said a 25-year-old could be a grandma."
"My nipples could shatter glass."
"If I had to wear diapers all the time would you change me?"
"Well this is progressing, as they would say in the Progressive Era of the United States."
"My hair is the most useless thing on the planet." "Have you never heard of Lil' Bow Wow?"
"Did someone in this apartment call 9-1-1?"
"It was an erotic high-five."
"Since I don't have a husband, my sheets shouldn't stink."
"Wow, it looks like that are preparing for a genesis."
"Can you tell I'm flexing my butt?" "You're pinching! You're pinching!"
Apr 22, 2006
Raisin Bran
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
Last night was probably what we’ll view as the final shebang of the year. The planned final excursion was when the four of us roommates went and got pedicures on Tuesday. Pedicures are nice, but certainly don’t even come close to a good hip-hop-errific (a term I made up on the spot while inviting Steve and Dave to come with us) (and a term that Emilee insisted I use in all the phone calls to our dancing associates afterwards because it was late enough in the day that somehow it was the funniest word ever invented) dance party at the Bran (which is a term I believe Melanie came up for Branbury Park, and has since spread like wildfire all over Provo….meaning Emilee, Steve, Cassyie and I all use it…but it’s catching on, okay?). And can I just say…you have never lived until you’ve seen Sterling dance at a dance where he isn’t trying to impress anyone. And people say Emilee and I are out of control…
And then of course I go to bed at 2/3am despite the fact that I had a final at 7 this morning. I think the test actually went pretty well, but it sucked like nothing else getting up at six. And I looked horrible: hair just thrown up and last night’s makeup kind of still on but mostly all over my face. Ah, well.
I had one of those short-sleeved, polka-dotted, scoop-necked with a bit of puff to the sleeve shirts that you see all over the place when I was still in high school. And nowadays I wear it and look like every other girl in the state of Utah. I was the trendsetter, thank you very much.
So I bought the new muffin-top-blueberry-whatever-it’s-called cereal from Malt-O-Meal and, let me tell you, it’s probably the sweetest cereal I’ve ever had. Texture is like Cinnamon Toast Crunch, which means delicious and the flavor tastes exactly like muffin top which means delicious. But it’s soooo sweet. I can hardly eat a whole bowl of it. And I’d eat it for dessert, not for breakfast.
"I think that's probably right" is not something a professor should say while doing an example problem the day before the test.
"There are no dumb questions" is something professors should never ever ever say. Ever. The dumb question askers don't need that kind of encouragement, believe me.
Last night was probably what we’ll view as the final shebang of the year. The planned final excursion was when the four of us roommates went and got pedicures on Tuesday. Pedicures are nice, but certainly don’t even come close to a good hip-hop-errific (a term I made up on the spot while inviting Steve and Dave to come with us) (and a term that Emilee insisted I use in all the phone calls to our dancing associates afterwards because it was late enough in the day that somehow it was the funniest word ever invented) dance party at the Bran (which is a term I believe Melanie came up for Branbury Park, and has since spread like wildfire all over Provo….meaning Emilee, Steve, Cassyie and I all use it…but it’s catching on, okay?). And can I just say…you have never lived until you’ve seen Sterling dance at a dance where he isn’t trying to impress anyone. And people say Emilee and I are out of control…
And then of course I go to bed at 2/3am despite the fact that I had a final at 7 this morning. I think the test actually went pretty well, but it sucked like nothing else getting up at six. And I looked horrible: hair just thrown up and last night’s makeup kind of still on but mostly all over my face. Ah, well.
I had one of those short-sleeved, polka-dotted, scoop-necked with a bit of puff to the sleeve shirts that you see all over the place when I was still in high school. And nowadays I wear it and look like every other girl in the state of Utah. I was the trendsetter, thank you very much.
So I bought the new muffin-top-blueberry-whatever-it’s-called cereal from Malt-O-Meal and, let me tell you, it’s probably the sweetest cereal I’ve ever had. Texture is like Cinnamon Toast Crunch, which means delicious and the flavor tastes exactly like muffin top which means delicious. But it’s soooo sweet. I can hardly eat a whole bowl of it. And I’d eat it for dessert, not for breakfast.
"I think that's probably right" is not something a professor should say while doing an example problem the day before the test.
"There are no dumb questions" is something professors should never ever ever say. Ever. The dumb question askers don't need that kind of encouragement, believe me.
Apr 21, 2006
Homeward Bound
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
I can't wait to get home next week. I'm at the point where everytime I see a person under the age of 12, my heart just jumps and I'm like, "I can't wait to live with children again!" It gets so dull living with people your age all the time. And not even talking to anyone under the age of 18.
I can't wait to get home next week. I'm at the point where everytime I see a person under the age of 12, my heart just jumps and I'm like, "I can't wait to live with children again!" It gets so dull living with people your age all the time. And not even talking to anyone under the age of 18.
Apr 17, 2006
Blizzard
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
But of course today it is snowing...
And of course when I last did my laundry I didn't wash the warm clothes because I figured that I wouldn't need them for the rest of the semester and I could just wash them at home where I don't have to use up precious quarters.
But of course today it is snowing...
And of course when I last did my laundry I didn't wash the warm clothes because I figured that I wouldn't need them for the rest of the semester and I could just wash them at home where I don't have to use up precious quarters.
Apr 14, 2006
Walking on Sunshine
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
The weather has been so beautiful these last few days. And I’ve been very spring happy. Probably more so than any other spring in my life. And I’m always antsy when I’m inside because I want to be out.
Friday, while walking home from work, I noticed a tiny rock in my shoe. I slipped it off and dumped it out. During the dumping process I noticed how delightful the sidewalk felt on my foot, so I just kept the shoe off. I walked all the way down ninth with one shoe off, enjoying the way steps in the shade were so cool and the steps in the sun were so warm. About halfway down the street I realized that if people noticed me, they’d probably be puzzled about this girl walking with one shoe on and one in her hand. And I hoped that they would be thrown off for a moment until they came up with a story in their minds to settle it (“she dislocated her toe and it doesn’t fit into her shoe anymore”…or something of the like), because that’s what I would do. I went into the neighborhoods to wander because I didn’t want to go home yet and decided it was time to take off my other shoe. And then I could walk on people’s lawns along the sidewalk as long as nobody was looking. Grass. I’m so pleased it’s spring. I wanted to sing to myself, but kept the singing in my head because I wouldn’t want to look too weird. Walking barefoot or singing to yourself aren’t too bad alone, but I couldn’t do both…that’s too much. A little boy who was helping his father plant flowers by digging random holes with his trowel and running his trucks down dirt mounds and saw me and asked why I didn't have on shoes. I told him because the grass felt nice on my feet. He looked at me, took off his sandals, stepped on the grass for a second, then lost interest and went back to his trucks.
Saturday, Emilee and I bought flowers and potting soil at Home Depot for our apartment. And we went on a walk that night and just kept on raving about the weather and the flowers and the birds. And we pulled all of these branches off of a tree because it was in bloom (and afterwards felt ridiculous carrying around this HUGE bouquet…but, whatever) and now they are in a vase on our table and actually taking up like the entire apartment. But they are pretty. We needed flowers.
Emilee: I can see how people fall in love in the spring.
Sunday, I still could hardly stand being inside. I went and took a walk by myself for an hour. Oh man, and I love being alone and quiet. Especially when the sun is shining.
Monday, after school, Emily (because the whole apartment is infected with it) suggested she and I go on a walk. Walks with Emily involve a lot more talking; she’s the sort of person that is uncomfortable with silence. But that’s okay in moderation. It’s not all that difficult to talk to people…I’m trying to learn that.
Emily: Springtime makes me think about sex.
Tuesday and Wednesday and Thursday…more of the same. Last night Emilee and I walked up and around the temple and back, which of course brought back memories of the time her and Clinton were walking up there and Thelmo and Candice and Allison P. and I stalked them. We drove by blasting “Won’t Say I’m in Love” and Emilee heard it and thought, “What a coincidence.” It was when we were in a parking lot blasting “Kiss the Girl” that she realized what was going on. Clinton, of course, was oblivious. Oh man, that was such a funny night. When parked next to where they would walk by, the strategy was for Thelmo and Candice to make out in the front to deflect Clinton and Emilee’s eyes, while Allison and I hide under a blanket in the back and make noises and try to make them laugh. Good times, good times.
The weather has been so beautiful these last few days. And I’ve been very spring happy. Probably more so than any other spring in my life. And I’m always antsy when I’m inside because I want to be out.
Friday, while walking home from work, I noticed a tiny rock in my shoe. I slipped it off and dumped it out. During the dumping process I noticed how delightful the sidewalk felt on my foot, so I just kept the shoe off. I walked all the way down ninth with one shoe off, enjoying the way steps in the shade were so cool and the steps in the sun were so warm. About halfway down the street I realized that if people noticed me, they’d probably be puzzled about this girl walking with one shoe on and one in her hand. And I hoped that they would be thrown off for a moment until they came up with a story in their minds to settle it (“she dislocated her toe and it doesn’t fit into her shoe anymore”…or something of the like), because that’s what I would do. I went into the neighborhoods to wander because I didn’t want to go home yet and decided it was time to take off my other shoe. And then I could walk on people’s lawns along the sidewalk as long as nobody was looking. Grass. I’m so pleased it’s spring. I wanted to sing to myself, but kept the singing in my head because I wouldn’t want to look too weird. Walking barefoot or singing to yourself aren’t too bad alone, but I couldn’t do both…that’s too much. A little boy who was helping his father plant flowers by digging random holes with his trowel and running his trucks down dirt mounds and saw me and asked why I didn't have on shoes. I told him because the grass felt nice on my feet. He looked at me, took off his sandals, stepped on the grass for a second, then lost interest and went back to his trucks.
Saturday, Emilee and I bought flowers and potting soil at Home Depot for our apartment. And we went on a walk that night and just kept on raving about the weather and the flowers and the birds. And we pulled all of these branches off of a tree because it was in bloom (and afterwards felt ridiculous carrying around this HUGE bouquet…but, whatever) and now they are in a vase on our table and actually taking up like the entire apartment. But they are pretty. We needed flowers.
Emilee: I can see how people fall in love in the spring.
Sunday, I still could hardly stand being inside. I went and took a walk by myself for an hour. Oh man, and I love being alone and quiet. Especially when the sun is shining.
Monday, after school, Emily (because the whole apartment is infected with it) suggested she and I go on a walk. Walks with Emily involve a lot more talking; she’s the sort of person that is uncomfortable with silence. But that’s okay in moderation. It’s not all that difficult to talk to people…I’m trying to learn that.
Emily: Springtime makes me think about sex.
Tuesday and Wednesday and Thursday…more of the same. Last night Emilee and I walked up and around the temple and back, which of course brought back memories of the time her and Clinton were walking up there and Thelmo and Candice and Allison P. and I stalked them. We drove by blasting “Won’t Say I’m in Love” and Emilee heard it and thought, “What a coincidence.” It was when we were in a parking lot blasting “Kiss the Girl” that she realized what was going on. Clinton, of course, was oblivious. Oh man, that was such a funny night. When parked next to where they would walk by, the strategy was for Thelmo and Candice to make out in the front to deflect Clinton and Emilee’s eyes, while Allison and I hide under a blanket in the back and make noises and try to make them laugh. Good times, good times.
Apr 12, 2006
Job Dissatisfaction
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
They are going to redo the way the administration building is set up over this next summer. And everything will be reorganized. Admissions and financial aid are going to be put together, which means my job will be different. They’ve promised that none of us will lose our jobs or get less pay, but we’ll be doing different things. The plans are tentative and change every few days, but it looks like most likely I’ll be working in an information call center for admissions and financial aid. I don’t really want to work on the phone all day. I like my window where I can see the people I talk to and watch people walk up and down the halls and occasionally shoot rubber bands down the hall when it’s just Blake and me around. And instead some stinky old Scholarship office employee will probably be sitting at my desk and using my phone and looking out my window. Besides right now the call center people are the ones we make fun of for being totally incompetent. We get some phone calls here and probably about 85% of them are from the call center students. Whenever they don’t know what to do with a caller, they transfer it to our office where I take care of it. They are there for information but somehow have been working the job without a single shred of knowledge about BYU policy on anything. So it feels like a demotion, even if there actually isn’t the higher level of information anymore. However, there is talk of us getting a pay raise, since we will have to be trained on financial aid stuff as well, so it might not be all bad.
The morning shift today got to go to the storage shed and clean/organize it. I’m so jealous. They got to wear jeans to work today! You don’t understand the jean envy that I feel. There has been many a morning that I’ll sit there and stare at my pants drawer, longingly gazing at the right side, where the jeans are, while occasionally giving dirty looks to my other pants on the left. And sometimes I just about want to punch Emilee in the face when we’re getting dressed together and there she is, slipping on something denim and there I am, in khakis again. Occasionally black slacks or a skirt, but that’s the only respite I get. And the stupid morning crew left all of their imaging for us to do. I bet they didn’t organize the storage shed as well as I would have.
They are going to redo the way the administration building is set up over this next summer. And everything will be reorganized. Admissions and financial aid are going to be put together, which means my job will be different. They’ve promised that none of us will lose our jobs or get less pay, but we’ll be doing different things. The plans are tentative and change every few days, but it looks like most likely I’ll be working in an information call center for admissions and financial aid. I don’t really want to work on the phone all day. I like my window where I can see the people I talk to and watch people walk up and down the halls and occasionally shoot rubber bands down the hall when it’s just Blake and me around. And instead some stinky old Scholarship office employee will probably be sitting at my desk and using my phone and looking out my window. Besides right now the call center people are the ones we make fun of for being totally incompetent. We get some phone calls here and probably about 85% of them are from the call center students. Whenever they don’t know what to do with a caller, they transfer it to our office where I take care of it. They are there for information but somehow have been working the job without a single shred of knowledge about BYU policy on anything. So it feels like a demotion, even if there actually isn’t the higher level of information anymore. However, there is talk of us getting a pay raise, since we will have to be trained on financial aid stuff as well, so it might not be all bad.
The morning shift today got to go to the storage shed and clean/organize it. I’m so jealous. They got to wear jeans to work today! You don’t understand the jean envy that I feel. There has been many a morning that I’ll sit there and stare at my pants drawer, longingly gazing at the right side, where the jeans are, while occasionally giving dirty looks to my other pants on the left. And sometimes I just about want to punch Emilee in the face when we’re getting dressed together and there she is, slipping on something denim and there I am, in khakis again. Occasionally black slacks or a skirt, but that’s the only respite I get. And the stupid morning crew left all of their imaging for us to do. I bet they didn’t organize the storage shed as well as I would have.
Apr 5, 2006
With Love
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
Somebody told me I needed a new diary entry. So here it is. You happy, yet?
Somebody told me I needed a new diary entry. So here it is. You happy, yet?
Mar 31, 2006
Jean
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
So Emilee had an orchestra concert last night. I went alone which is nice because when there's no one there to keep me in check, somehow I always get really emotional and end up weeping. This concert wasn't really one to weep at, either. Every piece they played was pretty famous, and when you've heard a piece a million times, it's not moving unless you're either listening to the best orchestra in the world (which, I'm sorry, but...the BYU Symphony isn't) or you've just had the most emotional experience of your life and somehow everything you hear or see or smell brings you to tears if you think about it long enough. And most of it, Brahms’s Hungarian Dances No. 5 and 6, for example, I just kind of sat there and went, “meh, nothing special.” But, of course, The Moldau really got to me somehow.
I was almost sure that the best part of the concert was going to be when the old guy sitting in front of me blew his nose so loud during a particularly quiet bit of Dance of the Hours that everyone in the immediate vicinity kind of looked at each other and tried not to laugh. But that was before we met Jean.
After the concert, this random Asian guy comes up to Emilee. Maybe 30-ish…hard to tell, though. From his English and mannerisms, I’d say his boat landed in San Francisco yesterday. Towards the end of the conversation we find out he goes by Jean. We call him Jean Linchia Kung. (Hey, it was Emilee’s idea…don’t get all offended, okay? But I’ll admit, it makes me laugh really hard.)
Jean: You play violin tonight?
Emilee: Yeah.
Jean: Wowww. You were really good. That was such a good concert.
Emilee: Thanks.
Jean: So how long you been playing?
Emilee: Since kindergarten.
Jean: Wowww. And where you from?
Emilee: Nevada.
Jean: NEVADA??!! Wowww. That’s close to California, right?
Emilee: Yep.
Jean: So do you have to learn all the instruments?
Emilee: What? Oh…no, I’m not a music major.
Jean: No way! Then what are you studying?
Emilee: Chemical engineering.
Jean: CHEMICAL ENGINEERING??!!!!!
This goes on for minutes and minutes. He asks for her life story and becomes more and more amazed with her. (“Why didn’t you go to Julliard?” “Oh, I’m not thaaat good.” “Yes you are!!!!”) And I’m standing there centimeters away from Emilee, but he doesn’t acknowledge my presence the entire time. I wish I could properly convey the intensity of this man. And Emilee and I occasionally glance at each other with the, “This guy can’t possibly for real…this isn’t happening” look. And then:
Jean: Are you Mormon, too?
Emilee: Yep.
Jean: You going to general conference this weekend?
Emilee: No, I’ll watch it on TV, though.
Jean: Well I have an extra ticket! They hard to get, but my bishop gave me two.
Emilee: Ummmm…well, you’d give it to me? That’s not too much trouble?
Jean: Oh, no trouble at all! You give me this fabulous concert! I cannot even tell you what a good time I had tonight.
So they exchange email addresses and a couple hours after we leave she gets a message that starts off “Thank you for the concert you contributed for free tonight. Your work is so much appreciated that I'd like to deliver a Conference ticket to you by myself.” I don’t know if you can feel at all how passionate this guy was, but, just trust me when I say it was probably the funniest thing I’ve witnessed all year. I mean, it was a nice concert and all, but…he was out of control in raptures about it. And the way he talked to Emilee, you’d think the whole concert was her idea or something. I wish I had it on video. Or at least someone that is really good at impressions could’ve been there to witness it.
So Emilee had an orchestra concert last night. I went alone which is nice because when there's no one there to keep me in check, somehow I always get really emotional and end up weeping. This concert wasn't really one to weep at, either. Every piece they played was pretty famous, and when you've heard a piece a million times, it's not moving unless you're either listening to the best orchestra in the world (which, I'm sorry, but...the BYU Symphony isn't) or you've just had the most emotional experience of your life and somehow everything you hear or see or smell brings you to tears if you think about it long enough. And most of it, Brahms’s Hungarian Dances No. 5 and 6, for example, I just kind of sat there and went, “meh, nothing special.” But, of course, The Moldau really got to me somehow.
I was almost sure that the best part of the concert was going to be when the old guy sitting in front of me blew his nose so loud during a particularly quiet bit of Dance of the Hours that everyone in the immediate vicinity kind of looked at each other and tried not to laugh. But that was before we met Jean.
After the concert, this random Asian guy comes up to Emilee. Maybe 30-ish…hard to tell, though. From his English and mannerisms, I’d say his boat landed in San Francisco yesterday. Towards the end of the conversation we find out he goes by Jean. We call him Jean Linchia Kung. (Hey, it was Emilee’s idea…don’t get all offended, okay? But I’ll admit, it makes me laugh really hard.)
Jean: You play violin tonight?
Emilee: Yeah.
Jean: Wowww. You were really good. That was such a good concert.
Emilee: Thanks.
Jean: So how long you been playing?
Emilee: Since kindergarten.
Jean: Wowww. And where you from?
Emilee: Nevada.
Jean: NEVADA??!! Wowww. That’s close to California, right?
Emilee: Yep.
Jean: So do you have to learn all the instruments?
Emilee: What? Oh…no, I’m not a music major.
Jean: No way! Then what are you studying?
Emilee: Chemical engineering.
Jean: CHEMICAL ENGINEERING??!!!!!
This goes on for minutes and minutes. He asks for her life story and becomes more and more amazed with her. (“Why didn’t you go to Julliard?” “Oh, I’m not thaaat good.” “Yes you are!!!!”) And I’m standing there centimeters away from Emilee, but he doesn’t acknowledge my presence the entire time. I wish I could properly convey the intensity of this man. And Emilee and I occasionally glance at each other with the, “This guy can’t possibly for real…this isn’t happening” look. And then:
Jean: Are you Mormon, too?
Emilee: Yep.
Jean: You going to general conference this weekend?
Emilee: No, I’ll watch it on TV, though.
Jean: Well I have an extra ticket! They hard to get, but my bishop gave me two.
Emilee: Ummmm…well, you’d give it to me? That’s not too much trouble?
Jean: Oh, no trouble at all! You give me this fabulous concert! I cannot even tell you what a good time I had tonight.
So they exchange email addresses and a couple hours after we leave she gets a message that starts off “Thank you for the concert you contributed for free tonight. Your work is so much appreciated that I'd like to deliver a Conference ticket to you by myself.” I don’t know if you can feel at all how passionate this guy was, but, just trust me when I say it was probably the funniest thing I’ve witnessed all year. I mean, it was a nice concert and all, but…he was out of control in raptures about it. And the way he talked to Emilee, you’d think the whole concert was her idea or something. I wish I had it on video. Or at least someone that is really good at impressions could’ve been there to witness it.
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