(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.
Mar 31, 2006
Mar 30, 2006
I wish I knew how to quit you...or something
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
It's funny how easily you pick up phrases and discussion points from people you spend a lot of time with.
The other day Emilee and Emily were dancing around to Ace of Base (always a favorite activity). I walk in and my first comment is, "Ah, Ace of Base...what a fabulous bunch of Swedes." And then I start as I realize that I sound exactly like a certain someone. Someone who for some reason always mentions the nationality of every band/musician he discusses. You know who you are.
It's funny how easily you pick up phrases and discussion points from people you spend a lot of time with.
The other day Emilee and Emily were dancing around to Ace of Base (always a favorite activity). I walk in and my first comment is, "Ah, Ace of Base...what a fabulous bunch of Swedes." And then I start as I realize that I sound exactly like a certain someone. Someone who for some reason always mentions the nationality of every band/musician he discusses. You know who you are.
Mar 29, 2006
book fair
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
I was having a discussion about books that you can read over and over and never get tired of the other day. I came up with three that are like that for me:
Tess of the d'Urbervilles
The Scarlet Letter
The Awakening
It wasn't until the day after that I realized that they all are late-19th-century works that involve a woman that commits adultry and dies in the end. I guess that just does something for me. Somehow I just really connect with Tess and Hester and Edna. I'm not an adulteress...I'll just get that on the table, but still...they all feel so much like me. They're all very private women, maybe that's it. And perhaps they don't even seem that way to the people around them. But the people around them don't know about the long walks by themselves and the secret thoughts and...oh, man, I need to read The Awakening again. It's at home, though. I said a long time ago--I think even in this diary--that I was addicted to that novel. That semester was crazy though, I read it maybe five times. But since then I haven't read it at all, and I miss it.
I was having a discussion about books that you can read over and over and never get tired of the other day. I came up with three that are like that for me:
Tess of the d'Urbervilles
The Scarlet Letter
The Awakening
It wasn't until the day after that I realized that they all are late-19th-century works that involve a woman that commits adultry and dies in the end. I guess that just does something for me. Somehow I just really connect with Tess and Hester and Edna. I'm not an adulteress...I'll just get that on the table, but still...they all feel so much like me. They're all very private women, maybe that's it. And perhaps they don't even seem that way to the people around them. But the people around them don't know about the long walks by themselves and the secret thoughts and...oh, man, I need to read The Awakening again. It's at home, though. I said a long time ago--I think even in this diary--that I was addicted to that novel. That semester was crazy though, I read it maybe five times. But since then I haven't read it at all, and I miss it.
Mar 28, 2006
All in a day's work
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
Last night I accidentally set off a fire alarm in an old folk’s home. The end.
Last night I accidentally set off a fire alarm in an old folk’s home. The end.
Mar 27, 2006
Madness
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
March Madness is upon us, which in my world simply means a quick trip to espn.com some nights to see who won the games played that day. I care about it enough to check scores, but not enough to spend time watching games or any of that. But nonetheless…it adds a little more fun to life.
For me, the women’s tourney is just as important as the men’s, because, let’s face it, schools I care about somehow are never any good at men’s basketball.
My rules for postseason college sports cheering are as follows:
Number one loyalty lies with BYU, naturally.
Purdue is almost as important as BYU. I think Purdue sports will always hold a special place in my heart because it was during my junior and senior years of high school, when I was living in a house where you could hear the cheers from good ol’ Ross-Ade stadium on game days and I’d walk by good ol’ Mackey Arena every week after flute lessons, that I experienced my sports awakening. Before those years, I didn’t care at all. Well, there was some love for Burroughs High School football in me somewhere, but I think that had more to do with marching season than anything else. I would’ve never read an article in the sports section of the newspaper or purposely watched a game before my years in Indiana, though. Sports just suddenly started interesting me, though sometime in there. To be honest, I think Mr. Conaway might’ve been a big factor. He’s a big sports person and also one of my favorite people in the world to talk to…so, it was good to know what he was talking about. And then it was interesting, so I kept on caring about sports. Not that I’d call myself a sports person at all, but I won’t pretend like I don’t find them entertaining. Often people are surprised that most of my favorite professional teams come from the Midwest, as I’m really far more a Californian than a Hoosier, and this is the explanation: Indiana was the setting for my sports awakening. So I’ll cheer on the Colts and Cubs and Pacers (though the Jazz has to come first NBA-wise or I would be excommunicated from the Wonnacott family…you would not believe what the Jazz do to my grandpa’s emotions...also, the very first games I ever watched with any interest whatsoever were the ‘97 NBA finals, back in the Jazz/Bulls days), thank you very much. And this paragraph probably should’ve been broken up somewhere, but it was just supposed to be about how Purdue came next in teams to cheer for and the subject couldn’t get more than one paragraph even if it ran off with an uncontrolled tangent, never to be seen again.
Once Purdue and BYU are out of things (now the case in both tourneys, after the Purdue women’s loss yesterday), next loyalties go to any Mountain West team. Which is why, despite some hard feelings, Utah’s women have a hearty “way to go!” coming from me.
After the Mountain West comes any Big Ten team. There are none left in this year’s basketball tourneys though, so…whatever for the Big Ten.
Then comes low-seeded teams that are somehow still in the game, because who doesn’t like a Cinderella story? So George Mason’s definitely a favorite. Their game yesterday is one I actually wish I had watched because nothing’s better than the underdog pulling a win out of overtime. And on the women’s side, this is where Utah gets my vote again, because they’re the lowest-seeded team in the elite eight.
After that, it’s a free-for-all with all sorts of important factors (colors, mascots, people I know who go there, people I know that cheer for them (Scott: I had a really annoying roommate last year who was an LSU fan…I don’t think I could ever support that team.), etc.) going into the decision. These are the teams that I just kind of pick as favorites, but don’t actually care if they win or lose. It’s more just to have a side when discussing games with people.
March Madness is upon us, which in my world simply means a quick trip to espn.com some nights to see who won the games played that day. I care about it enough to check scores, but not enough to spend time watching games or any of that. But nonetheless…it adds a little more fun to life.
For me, the women’s tourney is just as important as the men’s, because, let’s face it, schools I care about somehow are never any good at men’s basketball.
My rules for postseason college sports cheering are as follows:
Number one loyalty lies with BYU, naturally.
Purdue is almost as important as BYU. I think Purdue sports will always hold a special place in my heart because it was during my junior and senior years of high school, when I was living in a house where you could hear the cheers from good ol’ Ross-Ade stadium on game days and I’d walk by good ol’ Mackey Arena every week after flute lessons, that I experienced my sports awakening. Before those years, I didn’t care at all. Well, there was some love for Burroughs High School football in me somewhere, but I think that had more to do with marching season than anything else. I would’ve never read an article in the sports section of the newspaper or purposely watched a game before my years in Indiana, though. Sports just suddenly started interesting me, though sometime in there. To be honest, I think Mr. Conaway might’ve been a big factor. He’s a big sports person and also one of my favorite people in the world to talk to…so, it was good to know what he was talking about. And then it was interesting, so I kept on caring about sports. Not that I’d call myself a sports person at all, but I won’t pretend like I don’t find them entertaining. Often people are surprised that most of my favorite professional teams come from the Midwest, as I’m really far more a Californian than a Hoosier, and this is the explanation: Indiana was the setting for my sports awakening. So I’ll cheer on the Colts and Cubs and Pacers (though the Jazz has to come first NBA-wise or I would be excommunicated from the Wonnacott family…you would not believe what the Jazz do to my grandpa’s emotions...also, the very first games I ever watched with any interest whatsoever were the ‘97 NBA finals, back in the Jazz/Bulls days), thank you very much. And this paragraph probably should’ve been broken up somewhere, but it was just supposed to be about how Purdue came next in teams to cheer for and the subject couldn’t get more than one paragraph even if it ran off with an uncontrolled tangent, never to be seen again.
Once Purdue and BYU are out of things (now the case in both tourneys, after the Purdue women’s loss yesterday), next loyalties go to any Mountain West team. Which is why, despite some hard feelings, Utah’s women have a hearty “way to go!” coming from me.
After the Mountain West comes any Big Ten team. There are none left in this year’s basketball tourneys though, so…whatever for the Big Ten.
Then comes low-seeded teams that are somehow still in the game, because who doesn’t like a Cinderella story? So George Mason’s definitely a favorite. Their game yesterday is one I actually wish I had watched because nothing’s better than the underdog pulling a win out of overtime. And on the women’s side, this is where Utah gets my vote again, because they’re the lowest-seeded team in the elite eight.
After that, it’s a free-for-all with all sorts of important factors (colors, mascots, people I know who go there, people I know that cheer for them (Scott: I had a really annoying roommate last year who was an LSU fan…I don’t think I could ever support that team.), etc.) going into the decision. These are the teams that I just kind of pick as favorites, but don’t actually care if they win or lose. It’s more just to have a side when discussing games with people.
Mar 23, 2006
Unproductivity
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
Emilee: Last night I was thinking about this one outfit I used to wear in ninth grade and I just about threw myself out the window.
I think we all have some outfits like that. Or hairstyles. Oh man, if I could just erase the memory of what I looked like in middle school, things would be better.
I don't know what to do with myself when Emilee's gone. I end up going to bed way later than I should and spending hours with Emily in front of the TV followed by hours in front of the computer. And hours from now I'll probably still be here listening to James Blunt. Because there's no Emilee getting ready for bed, so I don't know when to. And am I really that dependent on other people? That's it, I'm going to take a shower.
Emilee: Last night I was thinking about this one outfit I used to wear in ninth grade and I just about threw myself out the window.
I think we all have some outfits like that. Or hairstyles. Oh man, if I could just erase the memory of what I looked like in middle school, things would be better.
I don't know what to do with myself when Emilee's gone. I end up going to bed way later than I should and spending hours with Emily in front of the TV followed by hours in front of the computer. And hours from now I'll probably still be here listening to James Blunt. Because there's no Emilee getting ready for bed, so I don't know when to. And am I really that dependent on other people? That's it, I'm going to take a shower.
Mar 22, 2006
how embarrassing
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
Oh the shame of life.
Last Sunday I accidently called 9-1-1.
Yesterday I locked Tim's keys in his car.
The end.
Oh the shame of life.
Last Sunday I accidently called 9-1-1.
Yesterday I locked Tim's keys in his car.
The end.
Mar 20, 2006
Write, right?
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
I haven't been writing much this last month...I just haven't felt like it. Most nights in my personal journal I'll write just one short paragraph, and that only out of habit and not so much because I want to write. My notebooks at school have been filled with pages of drawings where there used to be ramble-y writing. I don't write nearly as many massive emails to people as I used to. I think I haven't been updating this as much as I used to either.
But it's a problem because still everyday I see and feel things and think "I really need to write something about that," and then it'll just disappear and I'll forget all about it.
Though, it's not all bad. I've really been into drawing lately, which is another good creative outlet. Looking through my notebooks it's pages and pages of mostly clothes design and abstract-type stuff (think "Emotions"...oh, man those were the days) that I would never show to anybody because it looks like crap. And that's just as good as having pages and pages of half-finished letters to people and half-finished song lyrics and ramblings about politics or my relationship with someone or descriptions of some fictional character...that I would never show to anybody because it all reads like crap.
I haven't been writing much this last month...I just haven't felt like it. Most nights in my personal journal I'll write just one short paragraph, and that only out of habit and not so much because I want to write. My notebooks at school have been filled with pages of drawings where there used to be ramble-y writing. I don't write nearly as many massive emails to people as I used to. I think I haven't been updating this as much as I used to either.
But it's a problem because still everyday I see and feel things and think "I really need to write something about that," and then it'll just disappear and I'll forget all about it.
Though, it's not all bad. I've really been into drawing lately, which is another good creative outlet. Looking through my notebooks it's pages and pages of mostly clothes design and abstract-type stuff (think "Emotions"...oh, man those were the days) that I would never show to anybody because it looks like crap. And that's just as good as having pages and pages of half-finished letters to people and half-finished song lyrics and ramblings about politics or my relationship with someone or descriptions of some fictional character...that I would never show to anybody because it all reads like crap.
Mar 17, 2006
Happy Holiday!
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
Every year, I get excited for St. Patrick's Day. However, the only way it's actually different from the average day is I make sure to wear green. And recall that 3 out of every 10 days (that was really just a ratio that I came up with without even thinking about it, so...grain of salt here) I'm going to be wearing green anyway. In all actuality, freaking Labor Day should get me more excited than St. Patrick's, at least we get school off. But, no, it's still a good holiday somehow. Though it would be better if I were home right now and had the green waffles that I can guarantee you my mother made this morning. For the average person, March 17th is merely a celebration of the color green. It’s a nice color, but…why doesn’t red get a day? Or brown? Or yellow? Or…cerulean?
Every year, I get excited for St. Patrick's Day. However, the only way it's actually different from the average day is I make sure to wear green. And recall that 3 out of every 10 days (that was really just a ratio that I came up with without even thinking about it, so...grain of salt here) I'm going to be wearing green anyway. In all actuality, freaking Labor Day should get me more excited than St. Patrick's, at least we get school off. But, no, it's still a good holiday somehow. Though it would be better if I were home right now and had the green waffles that I can guarantee you my mother made this morning. For the average person, March 17th is merely a celebration of the color green. It’s a nice color, but…why doesn’t red get a day? Or brown? Or yellow? Or…cerulean?
Mar 15, 2006
haircut
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
Emilee cut my hair yesterday morning. I’ve been looking at getting at least a trim for a while now, due to damaged and messy-looking ends. However, I was really just thinking trim: an inch-and-a-half-ish. But on a whim, Emilee and I decided to do a lot more. So I’m five or six inches shorter now, and it feels crazy, but I like it. I still have “long hair,” defined as “past the shoulders”. Though I no longer have “really long hair,” defined as “creating the possiblity for one to appear in a movie topless but have things covered enough to get a PG rating.”
The first couple days of getting a hair cut are fun because doing it every day is still an adventure and people notice the change and compliment you.
Despite the proximity in time, the decision to chop my hair had nothing to do with the fact that I had to deal with a recent break-up, though it has provided many a fabulous joke:
“I thought I’d cut my hair just in case the real reason he broke up with me was that he thought my hair was too long, but he was too afraid to say it in case it hurt my feelings, so he just told me he hates me instead.”
“Well, I’ve always said I want long hair for my wedding, but now that I’m single, that day is looking farther away, so I figured, why not?”
Can I just say to the weather, "Quit playing games with my heart!"? If it wants to be spring, then just do it. If it wants to stay winter, fine, do it. This flirting with the issue is not good for me, though. And makes it impossible to know what to wear. It was snowing again this morning. Ridiculous.
Emilee cut my hair yesterday morning. I’ve been looking at getting at least a trim for a while now, due to damaged and messy-looking ends. However, I was really just thinking trim: an inch-and-a-half-ish. But on a whim, Emilee and I decided to do a lot more. So I’m five or six inches shorter now, and it feels crazy, but I like it. I still have “long hair,” defined as “past the shoulders”. Though I no longer have “really long hair,” defined as “creating the possiblity for one to appear in a movie topless but have things covered enough to get a PG rating.”
The first couple days of getting a hair cut are fun because doing it every day is still an adventure and people notice the change and compliment you.
Despite the proximity in time, the decision to chop my hair had nothing to do with the fact that I had to deal with a recent break-up, though it has provided many a fabulous joke:
“I thought I’d cut my hair just in case the real reason he broke up with me was that he thought my hair was too long, but he was too afraid to say it in case it hurt my feelings, so he just told me he hates me instead.”
“Well, I’ve always said I want long hair for my wedding, but now that I’m single, that day is looking farther away, so I figured, why not?”
Can I just say to the weather, "Quit playing games with my heart!"? If it wants to be spring, then just do it. If it wants to stay winter, fine, do it. This flirting with the issue is not good for me, though. And makes it impossible to know what to wear. It was snowing again this morning. Ridiculous.
Mar 10, 2006
disappointments abound
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
"Why is the flag at half-mast?" "Didn't you hear? We lost to Utah last night."
"Why is the flag at half-mast?" "Didn't you hear? We lost to Utah last night."
Mar 9, 2006
i like ike
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
I'm not voting in the BYUSA elections. Call me a freedom-hating, anti-democratic pig, if you will, but...who actually cares? I'm sorry, but whoever the president of our student association is, he's (I'm not being sexist, it's just all everyone in the finals does happen to be male) (which is actually nice because then I don't have to deal with the annoying "he or she" thing) (though I will remind all that "he or she" is the correct grammar and "they" is ONLY used when talking about more than one person and it drives me batty when that rule is not adhered to) not going to have enough impact on my life for me to bother figuring out what the issues are and what the various stands are on them. It's nice enough that they have platforms, but BYUSA actually has nada in the power department. The candidates can say they'll improve the parking situation, or have more concerts on campus, or whatever their pet projects are, but let's be honest...all being BYUSA president means is giving a speech at New Student Orientation and maybe having some say in what the posters for Homecoming dances will look like.
However, I don’t really have a problem with all the free candy or hot chocolate or whatever being handed out by campaigners.
I'm not voting in the BYUSA elections. Call me a freedom-hating, anti-democratic pig, if you will, but...who actually cares? I'm sorry, but whoever the president of our student association is, he's (I'm not being sexist, it's just all everyone in the finals does happen to be male) (which is actually nice because then I don't have to deal with the annoying "he or she" thing) (though I will remind all that "he or she" is the correct grammar and "they" is ONLY used when talking about more than one person and it drives me batty when that rule is not adhered to) not going to have enough impact on my life for me to bother figuring out what the issues are and what the various stands are on them. It's nice enough that they have platforms, but BYUSA actually has nada in the power department. The candidates can say they'll improve the parking situation, or have more concerts on campus, or whatever their pet projects are, but let's be honest...all being BYUSA president means is giving a speech at New Student Orientation and maybe having some say in what the posters for Homecoming dances will look like.
However, I don’t really have a problem with all the free candy or hot chocolate or whatever being handed out by campaigners.
Mar 7, 2006
Pi
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
From the Wikipedia article on pi, talking about fictional references to the number:
“The Simpsons – ‘Pi is exactly 3!’ was an announcement used by Professor Frink to gain the full attention of a hall full of scientists.”
Now which classifies me as a nerd more fully: the fact that I was reading an article about pi, or the fact that when I read the above quote for the first time, I read “Pi is exactly 3 factorial.”?
How embarrassing.
From the Wikipedia article on pi, talking about fictional references to the number:
“The Simpsons – ‘Pi is exactly 3!’ was an announcement used by Professor Frink to gain the full attention of a hall full of scientists.”
Now which classifies me as a nerd more fully: the fact that I was reading an article about pi, or the fact that when I read the above quote for the first time, I read “Pi is exactly 3 factorial.”?
How embarrassing.
Mar 6, 2006
Ramblings on a lonely work day
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
At work, at work…
Working in admissions for a church school means sometimes seeing ridiculous stuff like reading a letter of recommendation that start with: “Dear Saints in Zion”. Or the people that think they can pull weight because their dad is a stake president or something. Oh, ridiculousness.
I made a cake last night. It really was an excuse to try to perfect my frosting recipe. And it was yet another frosting failure. Next time, though…I’m thinking I’ll not put any milk or water in it at all, and just let the moisture come from the fruit. Because it always ends up too runny and then I end up trying to compensate by putting in more and more powdered sugar and then I end up with three times more frosting than I need and it also ends up with only the faintest taste of the cream cheese and fruit…but I’m working on it.
Every page of the application for BYU has a spot on it for a social security number except for the second page of the “high school information”. So we have to copy the number at the top of the second page of every one when getting the papers ready to image. Apparently it’s been like that for years, but really, you’d think that sometime someone would realize this and just put a spot for the number on there. It wouldn’t be that hard to fix, I’m sure. I wonder who you’d talk to about changing it. Probably nobody knows, or else it would’ve been fixed.
The word “damn” is not allowed on BYU campus unless you’re in a religion class or it is followed with the word “Utes”. It’s in the honor code.
My window-mate, Blake, is on a cruise this week, so it’s lonely up here. And I came here excited to talk to him about the Oscars. I’m sure he’s surprised (along with everyone else) that Brokeback didn’t get Best Picture and he’s sorry he didn’t actually make a bet with Joe about Reese Witherspoon winning. And he would ask me who I thought was the best and worst dressed on the red carpet. But instead, I’m here singing Hotel California quietly to myself because it’s far too silent.
I’m pleased to announce that Timothy has learned to play and to love the game of nickels. Now Emilee and I don’t have to spend hours trying to find someone to play with us and then still not have anyone and so we watch TV and pine away for last year. Ah, playing nickels with Allison Ellsworth…good times.
My absolute favorite thing that we do at work is going through unknown papers and trying to figure out whose file they belong in. It’s a bunch of detective work. We’ll read the letter regarding “Scott Johnson” and then go through the records of the 66 Scott Johnson’s that have ever applied to BYU to figure out which one the letter goes with. It’s really quite fun. The less material you have to work with, the better, because you have to do more intuitive work. Like most letters will include that someone is “hard-working” and all sorts of other completely useless information. But then we’ll get a little point to work off of: it’ll mention that he moved to another state when he was sixteen. And then we can go into the records and find the one guy out of the five you’ve whittled it down to that attended more than one high school. And then we’re still not quite positive, but you read his student essay and it talks about his eagle project and it matches the eagle project that is mentioned in the letter, and you’re good to go. It’s so fun. Sometimes Blake and I will race on a hard one, and I have to tell you, I always win.
The girl who just came to the window was named, and I kid you not, Sunny Rainbows Kim. You always wonder what kind of parents that sort of names come from.
At work, at work…
Working in admissions for a church school means sometimes seeing ridiculous stuff like reading a letter of recommendation that start with: “Dear Saints in Zion”. Or the people that think they can pull weight because their dad is a stake president or something. Oh, ridiculousness.
I made a cake last night. It really was an excuse to try to perfect my frosting recipe. And it was yet another frosting failure. Next time, though…I’m thinking I’ll not put any milk or water in it at all, and just let the moisture come from the fruit. Because it always ends up too runny and then I end up trying to compensate by putting in more and more powdered sugar and then I end up with three times more frosting than I need and it also ends up with only the faintest taste of the cream cheese and fruit…but I’m working on it.
Every page of the application for BYU has a spot on it for a social security number except for the second page of the “high school information”. So we have to copy the number at the top of the second page of every one when getting the papers ready to image. Apparently it’s been like that for years, but really, you’d think that sometime someone would realize this and just put a spot for the number on there. It wouldn’t be that hard to fix, I’m sure. I wonder who you’d talk to about changing it. Probably nobody knows, or else it would’ve been fixed.
The word “damn” is not allowed on BYU campus unless you’re in a religion class or it is followed with the word “Utes”. It’s in the honor code.
My window-mate, Blake, is on a cruise this week, so it’s lonely up here. And I came here excited to talk to him about the Oscars. I’m sure he’s surprised (along with everyone else) that Brokeback didn’t get Best Picture and he’s sorry he didn’t actually make a bet with Joe about Reese Witherspoon winning. And he would ask me who I thought was the best and worst dressed on the red carpet. But instead, I’m here singing Hotel California quietly to myself because it’s far too silent.
I’m pleased to announce that Timothy has learned to play and to love the game of nickels. Now Emilee and I don’t have to spend hours trying to find someone to play with us and then still not have anyone and so we watch TV and pine away for last year. Ah, playing nickels with Allison Ellsworth…good times.
My absolute favorite thing that we do at work is going through unknown papers and trying to figure out whose file they belong in. It’s a bunch of detective work. We’ll read the letter regarding “Scott Johnson” and then go through the records of the 66 Scott Johnson’s that have ever applied to BYU to figure out which one the letter goes with. It’s really quite fun. The less material you have to work with, the better, because you have to do more intuitive work. Like most letters will include that someone is “hard-working” and all sorts of other completely useless information. But then we’ll get a little point to work off of: it’ll mention that he moved to another state when he was sixteen. And then we can go into the records and find the one guy out of the five you’ve whittled it down to that attended more than one high school. And then we’re still not quite positive, but you read his student essay and it talks about his eagle project and it matches the eagle project that is mentioned in the letter, and you’re good to go. It’s so fun. Sometimes Blake and I will race on a hard one, and I have to tell you, I always win.
The girl who just came to the window was named, and I kid you not, Sunny Rainbows Kim. You always wonder what kind of parents that sort of names come from.
Mar 1, 2006
Motivation. such an aggravation.
(originally posted at eclaircie.diaryland.com)
I was thinking I'd write an entry, but I really can't think of a thing to write about, which indicates that the drive to write had a lot more to do with not wanting to do my math homework than the need to share something with the little world of my readers.
Until we meet again!
I was thinking I'd write an entry, but I really can't think of a thing to write about, which indicates that the drive to write had a lot more to do with not wanting to do my math homework than the need to share something with the little world of my readers.
Until we meet again!
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