This week was the commencement of summer classes. I'm taking French 321, Religion 122, and Religion 304.
French 321 is Advanced Grammar. I've been a bit nervous because it's the class for French-speaking RMs and it's been two years since I've taken any French. I am indeed a bit rusty. But I think it will work out. There are only eight of us in the class (maybe there's more but not everyone's been there all at once), which is the smallest class size I've ever had. Some of those eight are in similar positions to what I am in. Furthermore, I don't think the RMs are as good at the language as I had previously believed. They had to learn the language fast to be immersed in the culture, so they didn't really learn some of the deeper nuances, particularly with writing. They're still leaps and bounds ahead of me, but I think it'll be all right.
Religion 304 is the Writings of Isaiah. I'm not sure what to make of this class yet. My professor is a former seminary teacher. This could either be good, because of the "former" part, or it could be bad, because of the "seminary" part.
Religion 122 is the Book of Mormon (Alma 30-Moroni 10). There have only been two class periods, but so far I think this may be my favorite religion professor I've had. I'm a little leery of extra-scriptural interpretations (i.e. inferring things that aren't explicitly stated in the scriptures), but he does a good job of showing how the Book of Mormon is relevant in our day. This week we talked about Alma's letters to his sons. We always talk about Helaman, because he has his own book and because of the stripling soldiers (read the book--they're soldiers, not warriors); and we always hear about Corianton, because of the doctrinal principles Alma gave him (obviously he didn't understand something, or else he would have kept the law of chastity). We seldom hear about Shiblon, who has only one chapter devoted to him. But in class we talked more about that chapter than the others. The professor explained that it was because there probably aren't many Helamans (future prophets) in the class and hopefully there aren't any Coriantons (committers of serious sins). But there are lots of Shiblons; it's an entirely RM class. A lot of the advice Alma gave to Shiblon is perfect for us returned missionaries. There's nothing wrong with being a Shiblon.
At work we've been proofreading--yet again--a very interesting publication that is going to come out later this year. It should be done by now, but we keep finding problems. My favorite mistake I found this week was a place where it said "tevelation" instead of "revelation."
This week I had a symbolic dream. I dreamed that there was a horse that didn't really like its owner, but for some reason it really took a liking to me. I was flattered that it liked me so much, but I couldn't help thinking, "What am I going to do with a horse?" Lately there have been a lot of people visiting me. I'm very flattered that they visit me; I've never had so many visits in my life, and I feel like I actually have some semblance of a social life. I really like visiting with them, but I just realized how much harder summer term is going to be for me than spring term was, and it's only the beginning of the term and I already feel like I'm way behind. How am I going to stay caught up when I have all these visitors? What am I going to do with all these horses?
Since my knee prohibits me from running, on Monday I decided to go biking. It's something I have long planned on, but I never actually did it. So I went down to the parking garage, and the seats to six bicycles, including mine, were missing! I filed a police report, and after talking to a policeman, I came up the stairs and ran into some girls who were trying to sneak my autographed Jan Terri picture out so they could frame it for me. I told them about my bike, and I told them about my outrage about a Police Beat story that talked about some bike thieves who were arrested and subsequently released. I said, "If they're going to release them, they should at least cut their hands off first." I don't know what to do now--if I want to see if I can order a new seat, or if I just want to take my bike home to NSL and leave it there and forget about biking. I had my bike stolen two years ago. I brought my present bike down to Provo two months ago, and already the seat's been stolen. I didn't bother having my bike down here at all last year. If you read any Police Beat story, there are always accounts of stolen bicycles. If the nefarious villains are only released and not locked up, it makes Provo a very dangerous place for a bicycle, and I don't know if it's worth the risk--especially since I have a car and it takes me five minutes to walk to campus.
This week a girl and I were stalking Jan Terri on Facebook on my computer. The girl was looking around and accidentally clicked a button that sent her a friend request! I'm now friends with Jan Terri on Facebook. Yes.
This is something I really don't like to talk about--but yesterday I got a haircut. I hadn't had one since April 4. I'm not sure what to think--I can't decide if I look normal, or if I look homeschooled or like a rockstar or like a lesbian. My cousin's getting married this week. My hair is going to spoil the wedding.
I consider summer to start with the beginning of June, but no matter what you consider summer to be, there's no denying it is fully summer now. Summer classes are in session, the summer solstice has passed, and wildfires are filling the air with smoke. Summer is traditionally my least favorite season. But you have to endure it to get to fall!
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Sunday, June 17, 2012
Quelle semaine!
This week I had finals for my spring classes. For my history class, we were given nine essay questions to study, and then we would be given three on the open-book test (three hours) and would have to write two of the essays. Since I did so poorly on the midterm, I really had to study for this test. I decided that I would take the essay questions and dump information from my notes and readings into documents until I made them sufficiently long--basically, write a sloppy essay for each question and refine it during the actual test time. This meant that I would write nine essays. I only ended up writing seven before the test. One of the questions that I got on the exam was actually one that I didn't write an outline for, but I decided to write it. I was able to write it from scratch because I had written all the others. The other one I did was on Mao Zedong. My other option was the Cold War, but I didn't have enough information on it to write a good essay.
I am so glad that stupid class is over. BYU asks for student ratings, and you rate the class and the instructor on a scale ranging from "Very Strongly Disagree" to "Very Strongly Agree." There was only one question on which I checked the "Agree" side. Then in the comments, I vented my frustrations--that I did all the readings and attended the classes but felt destined to fail; that the quizzes tested us on mere minutia, stuff only a history major would need to know; that there was no length specified on the exam yet I got a poor grade because it wasn't long enough, even though I felt I answered the question. Then I added a final jab: "This class has reinforced my general distrust of historians." No longer will I have to hear the professor's various and sundry instances of saying "various and sundry." That professor should have retired a long time ago--he was in college during the Cuban Missile Crisis, for crying out loud!
Because I had to spend so much time studying for history, I wasn't able to spend enough time working on my Print Publishing portfolio. It got finished, but it was very sloppy. On Wednesday (after my history final) I had to get my book printed as a saddle-stitch book. So I went to the JFSB, but their color saddle-stitch machine was broken. So then I went to the Cougar Copy Center just south of campus by where I live. Their machine was broken. So then I went to Cougar Creations in the Wilk. Their printer was having problems so they couldn't get the cover to print with everything else, which meant that I had to staple the cover on. But they made me, an inexperienced stapler, staple it with a stapler that wasn't meant for the job, which resulted in bent staples and a generally sloppy appearance. It took me an hour to get a sloppy book. Oh well. Then I finished up my portfolio, which was not very good. But I was relieved to have it done. That night I went with some people and got shaved ice, which is in season.
Spring term was basically over, except that the next day I had to go on a tour of the University Press Building. It kind of reminded me of my Distribution job--same noises, same materials, same boxes--and it made me a little sad that I won't be there again for a while, if ever. But it's probably a case of absence making the heart grow fonder.
Then I walked home down 900 East, which is part of my old running route. It made me a bit sad, because I don't know the next time I'll be able to run again, because of my knee.
But then spring term was really over! Spring term is shorter than winter semester, but a lot of spring events seem like a long time ago. It was the night before classes started that I had my accident. During spring term, I recovered from my injuries, drove to Rite-Aid (while listening to Neon Trees' new album) to buy bandaging supplies and also ended up buying Reese's eggs for my roommate, got new glasses, used my GPS for the first time, got the lowest test grade I've ever gotten, bought new shirts, made several new friends, and, of course, got a job.
Despite the best persuasive efforts of some people, I decided to forgo attending my ward's boating trip. There were several reasons for doing this: My mom wanted to see me before she went out of town; my car needed repairs; I needed to see my dad before Father's Day, since it would be easier to attend my mission reunion on my way back to Provo instead of making several trips; I dislike sunlight; and I would have felt uncomfortable spending that much time with that many people.
On Thursday evening my family took me to get some Fourth of July goodies. I have sadly discovered that this year there are no "Summer" Animal Cookies and no Patriotic Dots. I thought that things were at least staying even, since I was able to get patriotic Oreos and patriotic "Rainbow" Keebler cookies--but it turns out that at least the Keebler cookies are made only because of the Olympics. Which really doesn't make sense to me, because I would think people would be more likely to buy patriotic cookies for the Fourth of July than for the Olympics. Whatever. Another newcomer this year to the Fourth of July candy scene is Blo-Pops, but I don't really like them that much anyway.
It was a nice evening that night, so I decided to jump on the trampoline. We got that tramp (our nickname for trampoline is tramp--I don't know if that's widespread or not) for Christmas in 1989, when I was just one. I obviously don't remember my first time on it, but there is old family video footage of my sister playing with me on it on that December 25. I was just jumping on it Thursday night when suddenly the springs made a weird noise, and the trampoline mat split right down the middle! It was as if someone had instantly torn a giant piece of cloth. There was no warning--it just split from one end to the other all of a sudden. My niece was watching, and she said, "Oh no! The tramp's dead!" It was dusk, so I was going to wait until the morning to get a picture of the torn tramp.
But when I got up the next morning, my dad had already dissembled it. And I felt like my childhood officially ended right there. I have so many memories--bouncing around apricots, grapes, and chokecherries; playing "Crack the egg," "Steamroller," "Corners," and other such games; putting the sprinkler underneath on hot summer days; getting my feet and knees absolutely filthy; breaking my arm twice--Ahh, childhood.
On Friday we took my grandparents to lunch for Father's Day, after a big ordeal with getting my car to approve inspection. And after all that I forgot to bring the registration back with me. Oh well. I'll be going back up in a week and a half to see my nephews, who will be visiting.
On Saturday I went to a mission reunion. My mission president had asked me to help get the word out. I made a Facebook event, and I was surprised at how many people attended all because of the page I created! The Clarks (my mission president and his wife) always have books with pictures of all the missionaries. I'm always amused by my transfer board picture:
Then I came home and I had to check the mail. It came! The surprise I mentioned last week about Jan Terri--it came! I had come across a website in which someone commented that they contacted Jan Terri via Facebook and she sent her copies of her CDs. So I followed a link to Jan Terri's Facebook and asked where I could buy her CDs. So she sent me burned copies of her three CDs, as well as an autographed picture of her. I'm especially excited to have new holiday songs. I now have an extra song for Halloween
and two for Christmas
.
Tomorrow I start summer classes. I'm taking two religion classes and a French class. I'm a bit nervous. First of all, it's the first time I've taken three classes during a term (as opposed to a semester). Also, I haven't had French for two years, and this class is the Advanced Grammar class, which is what the French-speaking RMs take. I'll be at the bottom of the class! My dad seems to disapprove of me taking this class because he worries I won't use it and because he worries it could lower my GPA. He told me I could take physics. But physics would actually prove less useful to me (as long as I'm just a geology minor) and would be more likely to lower my GPA!
J'espère que je reçois une bonne note! (I'm sure I just butchered that. :( )
I am so glad that stupid class is over. BYU asks for student ratings, and you rate the class and the instructor on a scale ranging from "Very Strongly Disagree" to "Very Strongly Agree." There was only one question on which I checked the "Agree" side. Then in the comments, I vented my frustrations--that I did all the readings and attended the classes but felt destined to fail; that the quizzes tested us on mere minutia, stuff only a history major would need to know; that there was no length specified on the exam yet I got a poor grade because it wasn't long enough, even though I felt I answered the question. Then I added a final jab: "This class has reinforced my general distrust of historians." No longer will I have to hear the professor's various and sundry instances of saying "various and sundry." That professor should have retired a long time ago--he was in college during the Cuban Missile Crisis, for crying out loud!
Because I had to spend so much time studying for history, I wasn't able to spend enough time working on my Print Publishing portfolio. It got finished, but it was very sloppy. On Wednesday (after my history final) I had to get my book printed as a saddle-stitch book. So I went to the JFSB, but their color saddle-stitch machine was broken. So then I went to the Cougar Copy Center just south of campus by where I live. Their machine was broken. So then I went to Cougar Creations in the Wilk. Their printer was having problems so they couldn't get the cover to print with everything else, which meant that I had to staple the cover on. But they made me, an inexperienced stapler, staple it with a stapler that wasn't meant for the job, which resulted in bent staples and a generally sloppy appearance. It took me an hour to get a sloppy book. Oh well. Then I finished up my portfolio, which was not very good. But I was relieved to have it done. That night I went with some people and got shaved ice, which is in season.
Spring term was basically over, except that the next day I had to go on a tour of the University Press Building. It kind of reminded me of my Distribution job--same noises, same materials, same boxes--and it made me a little sad that I won't be there again for a while, if ever. But it's probably a case of absence making the heart grow fonder.
Then I walked home down 900 East, which is part of my old running route. It made me a bit sad, because I don't know the next time I'll be able to run again, because of my knee.
But then spring term was really over! Spring term is shorter than winter semester, but a lot of spring events seem like a long time ago. It was the night before classes started that I had my accident. During spring term, I recovered from my injuries, drove to Rite-Aid (while listening to Neon Trees' new album) to buy bandaging supplies and also ended up buying Reese's eggs for my roommate, got new glasses, used my GPS for the first time, got the lowest test grade I've ever gotten, bought new shirts, made several new friends, and, of course, got a job.
Despite the best persuasive efforts of some people, I decided to forgo attending my ward's boating trip. There were several reasons for doing this: My mom wanted to see me before she went out of town; my car needed repairs; I needed to see my dad before Father's Day, since it would be easier to attend my mission reunion on my way back to Provo instead of making several trips; I dislike sunlight; and I would have felt uncomfortable spending that much time with that many people.
On Thursday evening my family took me to get some Fourth of July goodies. I have sadly discovered that this year there are no "Summer" Animal Cookies and no Patriotic Dots. I thought that things were at least staying even, since I was able to get patriotic Oreos and patriotic "Rainbow" Keebler cookies--but it turns out that at least the Keebler cookies are made only because of the Olympics. Which really doesn't make sense to me, because I would think people would be more likely to buy patriotic cookies for the Fourth of July than for the Olympics. Whatever. Another newcomer this year to the Fourth of July candy scene is Blo-Pops, but I don't really like them that much anyway.
It was a nice evening that night, so I decided to jump on the trampoline. We got that tramp (our nickname for trampoline is tramp--I don't know if that's widespread or not) for Christmas in 1989, when I was just one. I obviously don't remember my first time on it, but there is old family video footage of my sister playing with me on it on that December 25. I was just jumping on it Thursday night when suddenly the springs made a weird noise, and the trampoline mat split right down the middle! It was as if someone had instantly torn a giant piece of cloth. There was no warning--it just split from one end to the other all of a sudden. My niece was watching, and she said, "Oh no! The tramp's dead!" It was dusk, so I was going to wait until the morning to get a picture of the torn tramp.
But when I got up the next morning, my dad had already dissembled it. And I felt like my childhood officially ended right there. I have so many memories--bouncing around apricots, grapes, and chokecherries; playing "Crack the egg," "Steamroller," "Corners," and other such games; putting the sprinkler underneath on hot summer days; getting my feet and knees absolutely filthy; breaking my arm twice--Ahh, childhood.
On Friday we took my grandparents to lunch for Father's Day, after a big ordeal with getting my car to approve inspection. And after all that I forgot to bring the registration back with me. Oh well. I'll be going back up in a week and a half to see my nephews, who will be visiting.
On Saturday I went to a mission reunion. My mission president had asked me to help get the word out. I made a Facebook event, and I was surprised at how many people attended all because of the page I created! The Clarks (my mission president and his wife) always have books with pictures of all the missionaries. I'm always amused by my transfer board picture:
Then I came home and I had to check the mail. It came! The surprise I mentioned last week about Jan Terri--it came! I had come across a website in which someone commented that they contacted Jan Terri via Facebook and she sent her copies of her CDs. So I followed a link to Jan Terri's Facebook and asked where I could buy her CDs. So she sent me burned copies of her three CDs, as well as an autographed picture of her. I'm especially excited to have new holiday songs. I now have an extra song for Halloween
and two for Christmas
.
Tomorrow I start summer classes. I'm taking two religion classes and a French class. I'm a bit nervous. First of all, it's the first time I've taken three classes during a term (as opposed to a semester). Also, I haven't had French for two years, and this class is the Advanced Grammar class, which is what the French-speaking RMs take. I'll be at the bottom of the class! My dad seems to disapprove of me taking this class because he worries I won't use it and because he worries it could lower my GPA. He told me I could take physics. But physics would actually prove less useful to me (as long as I'm just a geology minor) and would be more likely to lower my GPA!
J'espère que je reçois une bonne note! (I'm sure I just butchered that. :( )
Sunday, June 10, 2012
What a weirdo, part 2.
On Tuesday this week, I was able to see the transit of Venus. It was pretty cool. It's kind of sad to think that there will be no "next time." Unfortunately, there were a bunch of clouds, and just as I'd get settled to sit outside and look at it, the clouds would spoil it. But I still got to see it. As the sun was going down, I hopped on my bike to try to find someplace to get a better look. The sun went down faster than I expected, but it was nice to be on a bike again--that was the first time I'd ridden since September 30 or October 1 of 2010, and the second time ever riding this particular bike. I may have to take up biking some more, because on Monday I tried to run again, but my knee has something going on inside. At first I wasn't sure if it was a result of my fall, but now I think that it is, just because it's taking so long to heal and I don't know what else would have hurt it that bad. As long as I just walk, it's fine; but if I run for even five minutes, it's going to start bothering me for some time.
On Thursday, the girl who compares me to a robot, Michelle, showed up to our apartment with a plate of fancy Rice Krispies treats for me. I knew immediately that they were not in season, so I was debating whether not to say anything and just give them to my roommates later, or whether to eat some anyway to be polite and have to do pushups as punishment. But another girl, Carissa, was at our apartment, and she knew about my rules, so she came and told Michelle that she should go put some red, white, and blue decorations on them so I could eat them. At that it was all over, and what resulted was a frantic search through the kitchen for something with which to decorate the goodies. I located some red and blue sugar sprinkles, which Michelle poured hurriedly. It was technically cheating, but oh well.
Michelle and Carissa asked me if I had all these rules written down. I told them no, and they said I should. So, here goes.
When it comes to candies, desserts, drinks, and other sweets, I can only have them when they are in season. I have eight holiday seasons, each with their own designated in-season sweets. When it comes to candy, a lot of deciding whether or not something is in season depends on if the candy would look festive in a candy dish.
New Year season, December 26-January 1. I can actually eat anything I want during this week. I started this on my mission because we had a lot of leftover Christmas goodies we needed to get rid of. I figure, at New Year's there always leftover Christmas goodies, and at New Year's parties there's always lots of food, so this rule seems reasonable enough. Another thing is that the prototypical New Year resolution is to lose weight, so you binge before you start--but this is actually not the reason I have my rules set this way. Furthermore, New Year treats are hard to come by. I've seen New Year clock cakes, but I haven't seen any New Year candy since 1999/2000, when M&Ms made their MM (2000) candies.
Valentine's Day season, January 15-February 14. During this time, I can have
Thanksgiving season, November 1-Thanksgiving. What's good about the Thanksgiving season is that a lot of clearance Halloween candy doubles as Thanksgiving candy. I can have
Many goodies can be adapted to be seasonal. For example, holiday sprinkles can put cakes, cookies, and donuts in season. Holiday M&Ms can make M&M cookies in season. In high school, I used to put candy corn on brownies so I could eat them, but that was cheating, because brownies were never meant to have candy corn on them. Additionally, I can eat whatever I want during the week of my birthday (Sunday-Saturday). During the months of December, January, and February, I can have hot chocolate. During the months of June, July, and August, I can have popsicles, snow cones, Slurpees, etc.--basically frozen sugar water. Last year I ate ice cream during the summer, but I decided not to this year. This week I ate an ice cream cone to decide if I wanted to allow myself to eat ice cream as long as it is on a cone or a stick, but I decided against it--I felt too guilty.
This week, my roommate Cameron went crazy on our ward's Facebook page, liking and posting all sorts of weird and/or creepy things on our ward's Facebook page. He even posted my melon joke and the following video, for all the ward to see. I've had a few comments about the poem.
I have a surprise about Jan Terri coming up. Some of you already know it, but I'll tell the rest once it's complete.
On Thursday, the girl who compares me to a robot, Michelle, showed up to our apartment with a plate of fancy Rice Krispies treats for me. I knew immediately that they were not in season, so I was debating whether not to say anything and just give them to my roommates later, or whether to eat some anyway to be polite and have to do pushups as punishment. But another girl, Carissa, was at our apartment, and she knew about my rules, so she came and told Michelle that she should go put some red, white, and blue decorations on them so I could eat them. At that it was all over, and what resulted was a frantic search through the kitchen for something with which to decorate the goodies. I located some red and blue sugar sprinkles, which Michelle poured hurriedly. It was technically cheating, but oh well.
Michelle and Carissa asked me if I had all these rules written down. I told them no, and they said I should. So, here goes.
When it comes to candies, desserts, drinks, and other sweets, I can only have them when they are in season. I have eight holiday seasons, each with their own designated in-season sweets. When it comes to candy, a lot of deciding whether or not something is in season depends on if the candy would look festive in a candy dish.
New Year season, December 26-January 1. I can actually eat anything I want during this week. I started this on my mission because we had a lot of leftover Christmas goodies we needed to get rid of. I figure, at New Year's there always leftover Christmas goodies, and at New Year's parties there's always lots of food, so this rule seems reasonable enough. Another thing is that the prototypical New Year resolution is to lose weight, so you binge before you start--but this is actually not the reason I have my rules set this way. Furthermore, New Year treats are hard to come by. I've seen New Year clock cakes, but I haven't seen any New Year candy since 1999/2000, when M&Ms made their MM (2000) candies.
Valentine's Day season, January 15-February 14. During this time, I can have
- Sweets devoted specifically to Valentine's Day, such as conversation hearts, cinnamon lips, heart-shaped chocolates, etc.
- Red velvet cake and maybe blackforest cake
- Uniquely pink things, such as strawberry milk or pink-frosted cookies. I cannot eat things that are more generically pink, like, say, Laffy Taffy.
- Depending on the situation, I might eat fancy chocolates--like chocolates with filling, etc.
- Specifically St. Patrick's Day-related goodies, such as the BYU Bookstore's shamrock taffy, shamrock-shaped cookies, etc.
- Green things, such as pistachio ice cream, or things with prominent amounts of green, such as mint brownies
- Candies wrapped in gold wrappers, such as chocolate gold coins, Rolos, Werther's originals, etc.
- Specifically Easter candy, such as Peeps, chocolate bunnies, egg-shaped candies, etc.
- Jelly beans of any kind, even if such jelly beans are available year round
- Jordan almonds
- I have been known to eat carrot cake, as long as it has the little frosting carrot on top
- Specifically Fourth of July-related things, such as red, white, and blue star-shaped marshmallows, patriotic Tootsie Roll Pops, and star-shaped cookies
- Specifically Halloween candy, such as orange-and-black-wrapped Mary Janes ("peanut butter kisses"), Bat Dots, etc.
- Fall candies, such as fall-wrapped kisses, mellocreme pumpkins, fall-colored M&Ms, etc.
- Candy corn and candy-corn inspired things, such as candy corn M&Ms, candy corn taffy, candy corn Dots, etc.
- Gummy worms--a stretch, I know. (No pun intended. Seriously.)
- Pumpkin and pumpkin spice things, such as pumpkin pie, pumpkin egg nog, pumpkin cookies, etc.
- In some situations, I might drink the home-brewed dry ice rootbeer.
- I have been known to eat popcorn balls. Remember on It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, when one of the kids proclaims, "I got a popcorn ball!" Followed, of course, by, "I got a rock."
Thanksgiving season, November 1-Thanksgiving. What's good about the Thanksgiving season is that a lot of clearance Halloween candy doubles as Thanksgiving candy. I can have
- Fall-oriented candies (see above)
- Candy corn and its derivatives (see above)
- I can have pumpkin pie, pecan pie, and apple pie. I might throw mincemeat in there as well, but I don't really like mincemeat. Other kinds of pies would be excessive.
- Pumpkin things (see above)
- Spiced apple cider. It has to be spiced. And I hate that powder nonsense--I like to cook apple juice with cinnamon and cloves.
- Specifically Christmas candy, such as mint M&Ms, red-and-green-wrapped candies, bell-shaped candies, etc.
- Old-fashioned Christmassy candies, such as gumdrops, candy ribbons, etc.
- Egg nog
- Gingerbread
- Christmas sugar cookies
- Hot chocolate
- Spiced apple cider. I might also include wassail, but I don't think I've ever had it.
- Fruitcake. I've never had fruitcake, but I could eat it.
- Candy canes of any kind
- Minty things, such as Starlight mints, etc.
- Chocolate oranges, just because they are so prevalent at Christmas and because oranges are a traditional stocking stuffer
- I have been known to eat spiced things, but it would depend on the situation
Many goodies can be adapted to be seasonal. For example, holiday sprinkles can put cakes, cookies, and donuts in season. Holiday M&Ms can make M&M cookies in season. In high school, I used to put candy corn on brownies so I could eat them, but that was cheating, because brownies were never meant to have candy corn on them. Additionally, I can eat whatever I want during the week of my birthday (Sunday-Saturday). During the months of December, January, and February, I can have hot chocolate. During the months of June, July, and August, I can have popsicles, snow cones, Slurpees, etc.--basically frozen sugar water. Last year I ate ice cream during the summer, but I decided not to this year. This week I ate an ice cream cone to decide if I wanted to allow myself to eat ice cream as long as it is on a cone or a stick, but I decided against it--I felt too guilty.
This week, my roommate Cameron went crazy on our ward's Facebook page, liking and posting all sorts of weird and/or creepy things on our ward's Facebook page. He even posted my melon joke and the following video, for all the ward to see. I've had a few comments about the poem.
I have a surprise about Jan Terri coming up. Some of you already know it, but I'll tell the rest once it's complete.
Sunday, June 3, 2012
What a weirdo.
This week I had several opportunities to inadvertently show people just how weird I am.
On Monday, Memorial Day, I came home and I put up some Fourth of July lighting. I put a flag light in our kitchen window and my neon light flag in the living room window, out over 700 East. I put a string of lights mixed with a garland over the bookshelf in the living room. My roommate Cameron came home and said, "I like all the patriotism." He seemed to think it was a bit early, however, and I explained to him why I start the Fourth of July season so early, in order to include Flag Day and Memorial Day. That night we were invited to go to a bonfire, and when people were at our doorway inviting us, someone commented on our "Christmas lights," and Cameron forcefully corrected him. Other people have commented about the decorations too.
At the bonfire, someone decided to try to tell a ghost story. But he was just making it up and he wasn't getting very far. So I took over. I based the story off of an episode of Gilligan's Island, but they don't know that. When we were riding home, we somehow got on the story of fish and their eyes, and I told the story of how when I was five or so, my cousins had come camping with us and a fish was caught for my little cousin. I saw the fish's yellow eye and asked my cousin if I could have the eye (I thought it would be fun to keep on a bookshelf). After I told the story, Cameron said that he liked how I told the story without any intonation. Then I realized that I had just told the ghost story when I show no emotion whatsoever!
Speaking of Gilligan's Island, there's another thing this week that shows how weird I am. I like to study certain amounts of hours for classes, but I tend to get ahead for my history class. We were talking about the Cold War this week, so to "study" I decided to watch Cold War-themed episodes of my old TV shows. On Tuesday I watched some episodes of Gilligan's Island and Cameron came home while I was watching them. I watched an episode in which a foreign spy pretended to be a ghost to scare the castaways so that he could take over the island (this is the episode I based the ghost story on). I watched another one in which a Russian spy had plastic surgery so that he could look exactly like Gilligan so that he could pretend to be Gilligan and find out what the castaways were doing on the island. That night I invited my other roommate, Bryton, to watch an episode of The Munsters in which Herman ends up on a Russian fishing trawler. Bryton seemed unimpressed with The Munsters; it was a more mediocre episode (and had some awkward scenes of singing, dancing, and joking).
My old TV show knowledge came to be relevant last night when a bunch of us played Mad Gabs (the game with weird words that sound like other phrases) in my apartment. One of the clues was Samantha Stephens. My teammates guessed it but didn't know who it was; I told them she was on Bewitched. Another clue was Gomer Pyle, and I guessed that quite readily, to the surprise of everyone. Later the other team had to guess a clue that was Mork and Mindy. I knew what it was for a long time and the other team never got it, even after I gave them clues. I've actually never seen Mork and Mindy (it came a little too late for my tastes), but I was surprised that not one other person knew what it was!
This week I once again shared my poor photography skills with the entire world. I was in line at Subway on campus when a nun came and got in line! Yes, a nun, an old lady with a wimple on her head. It was so unusual that I tried to take a sneaky picture with my phone. A girl moved in front of the nun right as I snapped the picture, so this is what I got after I did some cropping and editing:
Despite the abysmal quality, I posted this picture to the Seen @ BYU Facebook page.
Yesterday morning there was a service project where we (our ward and another ward) went to a peach orchard in Orem and picked unripe peaches off a tree so that the peaches could grow bigger. It was kind of fun. But my typical awkward silence and standoffishness was quite apparent.
This week I also introduced some people to my strange fascination with Jan Terri. All of Jan Terri's music videos share some elements: random shots, the same three female friends, awkward standing-in-place dancing, scary-looking men, ridiculous lyrics, and Jan's all-too-distinctive voice.
I also found a very funny interview with her on The Daily Show from 2000:
There are so many great lines in this clip: "That's a rare combination," "There's two sides of me: straight and normal," "I usually like Walker," "no witten wecord," and "wing it by ear."
On Friday we got our tests back for History 202. I did terrible. I got a C-! A C minus! I've never done that poorly on a test in my life! Actually I looked at my grades online and it said I got a 79, which is a C+. That's better, but still not good. I don't know why it was so bad; it was a writing test, and I thought I did decently. I happened to see some other grades and they were As and Bs. I don't know what went wrong; I felt like I answered the questions correctly and sufficiently. I guess this is why I distrust historians. You'd think that with history, facts would be facts, but it's actually quite subjective. There are some historians who will tell you that there were no turkeys at the first Thanksgiving in 1621. But in William Bradford's Of Plymouth Plantation, he says they had turkeys. How do you historians know there weren't any turkeys? Were you there? If you were, don't you think it's time to retire? I'm going to trust the writings of someone who was actually there, not some Mr. Know It All who wants to redefine what happened to better fit his agenda.
Historians also have weird hair. I don't like talking about hair, but they sure have weird hair. My professor I think is going for the Ben Franklin look. He is bald on top and has gray hair around the sides and back of his head, but he grows it out so it's a bit long and ratty and nasty. The TA also has weird hair. From the sides it looks normal enough, but from the front--I can't quite describe it. He has these two bulges of hair on either side of his head, above his ears. It gives his head a bit of a mushroom shape. Tomorrow I'm going to talk to Mushroom-Head Man to figure out why my test score was so low.
Today at church a girl told me I act like a robot.
POWERING. OFF.
On Monday, Memorial Day, I came home and I put up some Fourth of July lighting. I put a flag light in our kitchen window and my neon light flag in the living room window, out over 700 East. I put a string of lights mixed with a garland over the bookshelf in the living room. My roommate Cameron came home and said, "I like all the patriotism." He seemed to think it was a bit early, however, and I explained to him why I start the Fourth of July season so early, in order to include Flag Day and Memorial Day. That night we were invited to go to a bonfire, and when people were at our doorway inviting us, someone commented on our "Christmas lights," and Cameron forcefully corrected him. Other people have commented about the decorations too.
At the bonfire, someone decided to try to tell a ghost story. But he was just making it up and he wasn't getting very far. So I took over. I based the story off of an episode of Gilligan's Island, but they don't know that. When we were riding home, we somehow got on the story of fish and their eyes, and I told the story of how when I was five or so, my cousins had come camping with us and a fish was caught for my little cousin. I saw the fish's yellow eye and asked my cousin if I could have the eye (I thought it would be fun to keep on a bookshelf). After I told the story, Cameron said that he liked how I told the story without any intonation. Then I realized that I had just told the ghost story when I show no emotion whatsoever!
Speaking of Gilligan's Island, there's another thing this week that shows how weird I am. I like to study certain amounts of hours for classes, but I tend to get ahead for my history class. We were talking about the Cold War this week, so to "study" I decided to watch Cold War-themed episodes of my old TV shows. On Tuesday I watched some episodes of Gilligan's Island and Cameron came home while I was watching them. I watched an episode in which a foreign spy pretended to be a ghost to scare the castaways so that he could take over the island (this is the episode I based the ghost story on). I watched another one in which a Russian spy had plastic surgery so that he could look exactly like Gilligan so that he could pretend to be Gilligan and find out what the castaways were doing on the island. That night I invited my other roommate, Bryton, to watch an episode of The Munsters in which Herman ends up on a Russian fishing trawler. Bryton seemed unimpressed with The Munsters; it was a more mediocre episode (and had some awkward scenes of singing, dancing, and joking).
My old TV show knowledge came to be relevant last night when a bunch of us played Mad Gabs (the game with weird words that sound like other phrases) in my apartment. One of the clues was Samantha Stephens. My teammates guessed it but didn't know who it was; I told them she was on Bewitched. Another clue was Gomer Pyle, and I guessed that quite readily, to the surprise of everyone. Later the other team had to guess a clue that was Mork and Mindy. I knew what it was for a long time and the other team never got it, even after I gave them clues. I've actually never seen Mork and Mindy (it came a little too late for my tastes), but I was surprised that not one other person knew what it was!
This week I once again shared my poor photography skills with the entire world. I was in line at Subway on campus when a nun came and got in line! Yes, a nun, an old lady with a wimple on her head. It was so unusual that I tried to take a sneaky picture with my phone. A girl moved in front of the nun right as I snapped the picture, so this is what I got after I did some cropping and editing:
Yesterday morning there was a service project where we (our ward and another ward) went to a peach orchard in Orem and picked unripe peaches off a tree so that the peaches could grow bigger. It was kind of fun. But my typical awkward silence and standoffishness was quite apparent.
This week I also introduced some people to my strange fascination with Jan Terri. All of Jan Terri's music videos share some elements: random shots, the same three female friends, awkward standing-in-place dancing, scary-looking men, ridiculous lyrics, and Jan's all-too-distinctive voice.
I also found a very funny interview with her on The Daily Show from 2000:
On Friday we got our tests back for History 202. I did terrible. I got a C-! A C minus! I've never done that poorly on a test in my life! Actually I looked at my grades online and it said I got a 79, which is a C+. That's better, but still not good. I don't know why it was so bad; it was a writing test, and I thought I did decently. I happened to see some other grades and they were As and Bs. I don't know what went wrong; I felt like I answered the questions correctly and sufficiently. I guess this is why I distrust historians. You'd think that with history, facts would be facts, but it's actually quite subjective. There are some historians who will tell you that there were no turkeys at the first Thanksgiving in 1621. But in William Bradford's Of Plymouth Plantation, he says they had turkeys. How do you historians know there weren't any turkeys? Were you there? If you were, don't you think it's time to retire? I'm going to trust the writings of someone who was actually there, not some Mr. Know It All who wants to redefine what happened to better fit his agenda.
Historians also have weird hair. I don't like talking about hair, but they sure have weird hair. My professor I think is going for the Ben Franklin look. He is bald on top and has gray hair around the sides and back of his head, but he grows it out so it's a bit long and ratty and nasty. The TA also has weird hair. From the sides it looks normal enough, but from the front--I can't quite describe it. He has these two bulges of hair on either side of his head, above his ears. It gives his head a bit of a mushroom shape. Tomorrow I'm going to talk to Mushroom-Head Man to figure out why my test score was so low.
Today at church a girl told me I act like a robot.
POWERING. OFF.
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