My Holidays

So after spending most of the past week in Salt Lake, alone in my cold apartment, working retail and slowly growing to despise Christmas music (for real, the chipmunks should be shot) and watching old movies I am finally home sweet home in Mapleton Utah, ready for "the holidays" which is a rather vague description. I guess that makes it so every person can decide what it means to them. For me "the holidays" means traditions and family. Every year, excepting the year we got stuck in a blizzard, the traditions get up and rolling on Christmas eve. Christmas eve means that either my family goes to my aunt's house or my aunt's family comes to us and we eat our Christmas eve dinner. I bet I know what you're picturing, some sort of delicious large meat with potatoes and gravy and rolls right? Wrong. In the Swensen household Christmas Eve dinner means crepes filled with strawberries, chocolate and whip cream with a side of greasy sausage and bacon. I don't actually like crepes all that much but once a year, and only once a year, I choke one down because... it's tradition! Even the year we got caught in a blizzard and couldn't make it to my aunts and had no fruit filling we stopped at a Walgreens and got frozen fruit bars and came home and made crepes. After the crepes theres some adult time talking and child merriment before everyone gets in their vehicles and heads home, or stays where they are depending. After the family frivolity our family gets down to bidness. We open our Christmas eve present, not to give it away, but it's alway pajamas. The kids go and change. Then we listen to "The Happy Prince." It's this super old recorded story that started as a record from my great grandma and trickled down until my dad had it turned into a cd. It's old and scratchy and one of the most beautiful stories ever. Then we usually read the story of Christmas in the Bible. We round of the night by watching "A Christmas Story" or some other festive film. Then it's off to bed for us kids, who usually pile in one room to sleep. Christmas means waking up early, and waiting anxiously at the top of the stairs for the parents to awake and for Christmas to start. Santa always leaves our presents on the couch, but this year is going to wrap some too. After Santa we unwrap the rest of the family gifts. Then everyone plays with their new toys or takes a nap. The day after Christmas is where the family comes in. It means a 4 hour drive up to Twin Falls Idaho. It means seeing all the aunts and uncles from my dad's side of the family. It means a massive tempura fry with veggies, shrimp, and chicken for the kids and me who can't eat shrimp in one of the family owned grocery stores. After stuffing ourselves with the Japanese version of KFC its back to grandma's for the gift exchange. Which is huge. And takes forever. And is awesome, as long as you don't have to be "Santa," which is just annoying. After that the kids are shooed away and the adults play white elephant. This game is epic on it's own, but when you have two uncles who own grocery stores the presents are even more epic and range from Tide racing jackets to beef jerky trucker hats. The following days pass in a haze of movie watching, wrestling small children and playing a lot of house. But wait there's more. See we have yet to cover New Year's eve. We're back home by then and always party hard with our family friends. There's a nice meal and then the older kids find a party while the adults go to sleep or talk. It's always loads of fun.

I don't know why I felt inclined to share every last one of my holiday traditions with all you readers. I guess with so many of my friends married and or engaged it makes me think of a time in the distant future where the Holidays will be different, and mean something different. I'm not sure how I feel about that, and about making new traditions. I mean it's part of life, but does it have to be? Oh well. I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. For now I guess this blog post will be incredibly boring to most and a documentation of my history for others, and by others I mean just me. After all they are my Holidays.

NPR is the GREATEST THING EVAAAA

This week at work I am reading "A View from Saturday." Yes I know that this is a kids book, but I love it so you can shove it. Anyway one of the main character's grandfather's friends says that the ballpoint pen is the lead cause behind the decline of the Western Civilization. I personally disagree, and love my ballpoint pens but it got me thinking, what is the causing the decline of Western Civilization and how do we fix it? Well I'm not sure exactly what the cause, or causes of this apparent decline is, although I can think of a few, for example an apathetic youth and general mistrust of one person of everyone else around them, an in depth look at our societies failings is for another post. I have however decided that western civilization would be greatly improved by everyone listening to something aired on National Public Radio aka NPR. It is, in my humble opinion, the greatest thing ever. I am currently subscribed to This American Life, Wait Wait Don't Tell Me, and RadioLab. I plan on adding Fresh Air and Talk of the Nation to this list. They are fabulous for people who have no car and must walk to school, namely me. You put on a pod cast and listen while you walk. It's a beautiful system. I think if people listened western civilization might make a recovery, but maybe that's just me. At any rate I figured what's the point of having a blog if I can't occasionally shamelessly promote my favorite things? So the moral is, NPR is great, and you, dear reader, whoever you may be, should check it out. It might just change your life.

Online classes might be a joke but...

Memo to all bloggers if any of you are college aged students, oh wait, that basically describes my demographic of three, anyway I encourage you to take online classes. But not just any online classes, you should take online classes that sound like they would be really easy in a classroom, online. Because there is nowhere for the ease to go but down. Exhibit A, my online human exceptionality class. It's fantastic. Basically the class has 4 basic parts. Part 1, "required" reading. Translation, "skim when and if you need it for the assignments" reading. Part 2, "quizzes." Translation, "give your opinion on a question that is vaguely related to the related to the reading, with some sketch quotes and support thrown in." Part 3 "discussions" with your peers. Translation, look at the "quiz" or "answer" that someone gave to a question of another person wise enough to take the online class, and give your opinion, oh and you can support it, if you want. Part 4 "group projects." Translation, "sit back while everyone does the work and still get hailed as the master of the" project. This is my favorite part of the class. I always expect it to be hard, and then its not. I believe the main reason for this is that the other people in my class are stupid. Let me explain. The "group projects" there are two roles, the "scribe" and the "everyone else." Translation the "person who puts together the work that everyone else does with the addition of a few commas," and the "people who do all the work." For some reason people in my groups always chose to be the later, leaving me, the good person that I am, to take on the grueling and challenging role of "scribe." So basically I sit back, don't do the reading, don't do the research, don't do much of anything, and wait for people to give me the information. Then I throw it in a slide show, or a snappy word document, make sure that people you they're instead of there and presto whamo, I get 100 points. It is fantastic. And I don't even have to feel bad because no one else want to do it. Then I'm left with a whole evening that was scheduled for group project work that takes me an hour leaving me to time to focus on my other studies, or watch Psych. In short, online classes might be a joke but as long as they still think we're laughing with them and not at them, I am totally fine with it.

Tolstoy Shmolstoy

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! That ladies and gentlemen of the blogging world is my triumphant laugh. I, Jessica Swensen, after two and a half summers, and one do over have FINALLY finished Leo Tolstoy's "War and Peace." Yes that's right I read all 1215 pages, even the epilogue. Gee Jessica, proud and braggy much? Well yes, yes I am, and I think I have the right to be. Tolstoy may be one of the best novelists of all time, he may have an incredible mind and a gift for creating a vivid story, a picture of the human condition, and a philosophy on the meaning of history all in one powerful and moving novel, but heavens above that man was long winded. So I am going to strut around like a proud peacock for the next few days, because that book was the hardest thing I have ever read. I think I'm also going to put the fact that I finished it on my resume. Ok, that's it, I just had to let all you people who do and don't read my blog know of my mental and literary moment of joy.

Honeymooning

Most times, after post marriage couples do two things, go on a honeymoon and have lots and lots of sex. The last is especially true for LDS couples who have probably been sexually deprived their entire lives and are now free to get all thier sexually pent up energy out. But that's not what I'm here to talk about. I'm here to talk about the stuff you are doing post wedding when not doing the deed. That's right I'm talking about the honeymoon, or at least I will be for the rest of this post. When you ask most people to describe their dream honeymoon destination they will tell you they want to go to Hawaii or Tahiti or Fiji or some small island in the Caribbean. The really adventurous couples will tell you they want to go to some romantic place in Europe like Paris or Rome or in one instance Ireland. These things are all well and good. And I would not say no to going to any of these places. But for my honeymoon I want to go on an adventure. I'll leave lying on a beach soaking up sun to a time latter in life when my hips are going and all I really can do is lay on a beach or on the deck of a cruise ship. Right now I think I want my adventure to be driving across America looking at all the weird "roadside attractions." For instance did you know that the worlds biggest ball of twine currently resides in Cawker City Kansas, or that there's a UFO landing dock in Green Bay Wisconsin? Yeah, it's true. And there are things like this all over the great US of A. So one day, after I'm married I want to drive from one state to the next, staying in cute bed and breakfasts and seedy motels enjoying the quirky things that this great land has to offer. So that's my rant, thanks for reading, or not reading. It really doesn't matter to me.

Falling for Autumn

It is officially here, my favorite season and the best time of the year. It is autumn. One bright silver, or in this case red, yellow, orange and gold, lining of coming back to Utah is the return of the seasons, specifically autumn. I feel like sometimes autumn gets kind of a bad rap. Everyone here just knows it as the time right before winter, the waiting period before the cold and the snow and the slush and the ick. I think that this is utterly unfair to fall. Don't judge a season by the season that follows it people. Thats just wrong. Really though, autumn is amazing. First of all there's the leaves. They all turn colors, which is breathtakingly beautiful, especially if you go exploring in the mountains. It's like someone plopped you down in the middle of a beautiful sunset. I love it. Then you have the leave crunching, which is totally different from the leaves themselves. One of my principal joys in life is stepping on a big crunch leaf, or rustling my feet through a big pile of crunchy leaves, or prancing merrily about simultaneously kicking leaves in the air and crunching them underfoot. I love it all. Third awesome autumn attraction, the smell. Oh yes, a season can, and in this case, does have a smell. It's crisp and clean and beautiful and it makes my nostrils sing with joy, and clog with mucus due to the allergies, but I'm focusing on the singing. And finally, though no more important than any other aspect is the weather. In the fall, especially early its like summer still has it's fingers loosely wrapped around the weather. The breezes still carry a warm touch and the sun still shines most of the time, but it's not as in your face as the summer sun. Autumn is gentle. If autumn were a man he would be tall, dark, handsome, sensitive, caring, and freaking awesome. And we would get married.

Boy am I glad I'm not a man

In history men have had it better off than women. If I listen to the screaming protests of my femenist side men probably still have it better what with their higher wages and winning side of almost all double standards but there are a few things about being a dude that make me very glad that I am a chick. I will now list them, in a list.

1. Genitals on the outside. Yeah, that's gotta suck. I know God is perfect and all that, but really, what was he thinking? I mean yes females are occasionally hit in the bosoms but I think I can safely say that that experience is nothing to a kick in the private man region. So that must suck.

2. Public bathrooms. I'm not a fan of public bathrooms, but it's not the germs that get me. I'm sure there are just as many germs on the toilet as there are on any given handle. Seriously folks, the world is full of germs move on. It's the public part that bugs me. I can't walk into a bathroom after someone. I hate going in a stall next to someone, or walking into a stall that someone just came out of and you see there face. The worst is going at the same time as someone and walking out with that person when there is just the two of you in the bathroom and its jsut weird and awkward, cuz you both just heard each other going and you know exactly what the other person was doing. That just freaks me out so so much. So I can't even imagine using a urinal with a bunch of other dudes in the same general area. I honestly don' think I would be able to do it.

3. Face shaving. I actually don't mind shaving my legs. The smoothness is so niiiice. But I somehow think that running a razor across delicate face skin would blow epically. And if you cut yourself all up you can't just wear pants over your face.

Well that's all I have for now. It in no way evens the scales of inequality that has befallen women for millennia that include but are not limited to, the rule of thumb, not being able to vote and having to birth. However you men who are probably not reading should know, you're not all that powerful and great. Nope. And I for one wouldn't want to be one of you.

The Wall

Right now I am studying for a history text. No wait, thats not right, lets try again. Right now I really should be studying for my American History test. But I'm not. I have hit what they, whoever they may be, call the wall. It reminds me of the movie "Run Fat Boy Run." The bad guy of the movie tells Simon Pegg that in every marathon you hit a wall. I feel like this is true for most things in life, especially hard or unenjoyable things. You plod along, doing your best and then right when you think you're getting some where BAMZO! there is a huge, if not entirely real, wall. I don't know where it comes from, but it's large, and in my mind made of really ugly cinder blocks. Sometimes I can get through the wall. If I know there is something worthwhile on the other side. But other times I just plop down in front of that wall and glare at it, hoping it will move. It usually doesn't. Thats the kind of wall I have hit tonight. It's almost as if my brain is whispering to me, "Jessica, you know you don't care about the causes of the American Revolution, I know you don't care about the causes of the American Revolution and we both know the only thing on the other side of that wall is more studying followed by a ninety minute exam that you may or may not pass and have apathetic feelings toward either way." It is really hard to talk myself into studying when I have such sound logic. So here I am, sitting in front of a really ugly wall. Maybe while I'm here I can do some painting, which would have been tough in pre revolutionary america because the townsend acts placed a tax on paint, and paper, and glass, and tea.

The quinticycle (you've never heard of it for a reason)

Lets talk about bicycles. Bicycles are fun. They have two wheels. If you were to imagine yourself as the wheel of a bicycle it would prolly be pretty enjoyable. You and you other wheel friend are rolling along, moving the bike, making someone's day vastly more enjoyable. So being one of the wheels on a two wheel bicycle would be great. Right? Right. Now if you add a third wheel onto a bicycle what do you have? A tricycle! And tricycles are super fun. Usually on a tricycle all the wheels have a purpose. I mean, sure, sometimes the two back wheels kind of forget about the big front wheel. And they sort of ignore the front wheel and its insistence. But then they remember you and you all roll along happily and all is fairly right with the world, and there is only minimal amounts of awkwardness for that front wheel. Now lets say you have a bicycle with five wheels. What do you call that? Nothing, you don't call that anything except possibly ridiculous. Because that's what a five wheel bicycle is, it's absolutely ridiculous and awkward. A four wheel bicycle is completely plausible. It's like one of those cool push cars or better yet a bike with training wheels. See the two big wheels are getting along super well. They are pros, they know what they're doing. They know each other really well and work well together. And then you have the training wheels. They might not know each other so well, but they are working on getting to know each other. They support the two big wheels together, without overpowering them. Now try to add a fifth wheel into that equation, and what do you get? A very left out fifth wheel. See the two big wheels are all cute and cuddly on the grass swaying to the live music together, sometimes talking to the fifth wheel, but really just wrapped up in the awesomeness of being the two big wheels on the bike. And the two training wheels aren't cuddly, but they sure as heck aren't paying any attention to the fifth wheel because they are too busy talking and getting to know each other better as training wheels and seeing if one day they might want to graduate to being big wheels. So that leaves the fifth wheel sitting in its own discomfort trying to pretend like its not the unwanted fifth wheel while simultaneously trying not to draw attention to its incredibly awkward fifth wheelness. Which leads me to conclude that the five wheeled bicycle is an all around no good contraption that should be banned, or at least altered by adding like a sixth wheel of some kind so that the fifth wheel has someone to talk to who isn't linked by deep love or slight inclination to another wheel. Moral of the story, wheels on a bicycle are best in even numbers, and if the number of wheels can't be even you should at least warn the odd numbered wheel that it's going to be odd numbered so it can prepare itself for an evening of being ignored by people who she barely knows and people she knows really well and hasn't seen in months alike. That way the fifth wheel won't be too disappointed when she finds out that she is going to be the only left out and slightly lonely wheel in a group of five wheels out for an evening of adventure.

Shout out to my readers, all two of you

Dear Krystal and Nick,

It seems some of you (Nick) have been feeling a little left out lately at the lack of mention by me of you. So here I am, mentioning you, appreciating you, loving you, half heartedly wishing you didn't exist so I could go on writing whatever I wanted with no fear of judgement or backlash or you guys not liking what I write. That's not to say I won't go on writing whatever I want, I will, I am just more nervous about doing it. So thanks. If I get an stress induced ulcer I'm blaming both of y'alls, and global warming, and war in the middle east, and broccoli, cuz that freaky green vegetable just stresses me out. But you will be on the list of things I blame! Really though, welcome, feel free to leave your thoughts anytime. I will probably go back to assuming that you don't exist anymore after this post, because it helps my creative juices flow like milk from a cows udders. So don't feel sad or left out. I know you're there, and I appreciate your thereness. I just don't want to mention it ever again.

Cordially yours,

Jessica

Nothing like a good 80s night to sooth the soul

Sorry about my last post all you nonreaders. I know you won't read it, but I did, and it was scary. I was mad, still am, and I needed to let it all out, and as no one really reads this anywho I figured this would be the place to do it. But man am I scary when mad. I definitely wouldn't mess with me. But I'm almost better now. Want to know why? No, you actually prolly don't, but I'm going to tell you anyway. HA! I'm better because of 80s aerobic night. Oh yes, you heard me correctly, tonight my morority (mormon sorority, try to keep up) had an 80s work out night. It was FABULOUS. See if there is one thing I know, its the 80s (nod to my parents and their great culturing of me.) So of course, I show up, bangs fluffed, spandex spatter painted, ready to go. And it was absolutely the best thing I've done in a while. And then I jogged two miles. So basically my endorphin levels have me so high right now the world looks like a cotton candy dream. So when life hands you a poop faced residency committee, just get physical physical, you wanna get physical, just get into physical.

Bonus points for naming the artist of the song I just butchered!

Being a Nowhere Man is not as fun as the Beatles song would have you think

***Notice, there is some bad language and almost bad language in this post, I'm upset deal or don't read it****

So, as many of you nonreaders out there probably don't know, or care to know, I have transfered from the beloved and beautiful UCLA to the beliked and be-prettyish University of Utah. The reason for this sudden move eastward is primarily financial. Even after, living, working, paying taxes and generally loving California with all my heart and soul UCLA still wouldn't give me residency. I could no longer afford to pay out of state tuition. Two choices were placed before me. I could work for a year, pay for my junior year all by myself and then maybe get residency for my senior year, or I could come home and go to the U. What with todays current economic turmoil I decided it would be more practical, more adult, and in the long run, more beneficial to come home and go to the U. So I transfer. And then find out that the University of Utah is not going to give me residency. Say whaaaaaat(insert sassy black head bob, and z formation snapping here) ? So I rush around everywhere, including the DMV in west Salt Lake near the fairgrounds, which is not a fun place to bus to let me tell you what, getting everything they say I need to prove my residence. I gather it all up and turn it in. Then they tell me that they need some more stuff, so I get it. I do everything they ask with a smile on my face, and what do they do? They deny me residency. Those sons of b*tch mother effing DOUCHE BAGS deny me residency. Apparently all that rushing and fearing for my life. wasn't enough, and apparently I made moves to establish residency in California. Do you mean paying taxes U of U? Cuz thats kind of the law. Paying taxes means I was working, not establishing residency. Now I get to appeal the whole thing and go through all the steps of proving I'm a resident again. And you know what I'm thinking they will probably deny me again, because thats just the way my life appears to be rolling right now. They, being the fart nuggets in charge of this sort of thing, said I would be able to get residency in CA after living there for two years, lies, they said that all I needed for residency at the U was a drivers license and voter registration, bull sh*t. Why can't things be like the people in charge say they will be? Why? Why is that so hard? I guess thats life. But you know what the University of Utah residency office can go to hell.

So for all of you who have been thinking to yourself that you might one day like to become a real nowhere man living in a nowhere land making all your nowhere plans for nobody rethink. Its not fun, and there's a hell of a lot of paperwork.

When my ego is prego...

So today I was being a very good student and reading the chapter I was supposed to for my human development class. It was the chapter on pregnancy and prenatal development. It made me really step back and think about the 9 month suck fest that is going to be pregnancy. Seriously, there are so many things that can effect your embreo/fetus. I think that when I get preggers, in like 8-15 years, I am going to just live in a glass bubble. That way the teratogens, those are the things that can eff up your unborn child, just can't get to me. So the plan is to just live in a nice calm bubble for nine months, and not eat anything that has touched the outside world, or take any drugs or breath or get sick. It will take some planning, but I think I can do it. Also for the actual birthing process, I want to be numb up to my armpits. Seriously, all of this natural childbirth in a pool with a midwife encouraging you through it is total crap. I want to be in a hospital with all the pain meds you can safely shove in my body happily floating through my system before I push that little sucker out. The good lord gave us epidurals for a reason. So those are my pregnancy goals. A giant bubble for nine months and then lots and lots of pain meds. I think it sounds like a good plan.

Minnesotans

Today I went to my first Chem discussion/lab. My TA grew up in Wisconsin and got his bachelors and masters in Minnesota. I don't think I have been this happy about a TA since my freshman history of religions class. My TA there was absolutely beautiful. Seriously, yum. This TA isn't attractive, but he has a minnesotan accent that amuses me to no end. I think it is going to be a great semester. If you don't know what a Minnesotan accent sounds like I recommend you watch 'Drop Dead Gorgeous." Actually I just recommend you watch that movie, because it is fantastic. Anywho is this going to be the best four hours ever on a Monday? I think yes

Drip drip drop little August torrential downpour

I am not a fan of Utah summers. I don't think anyone in there right mind would say they are. Summers, especially the July August range in Utah are hot, and dry, and stifling and nasty. Utah summers do have one redeeming quality however, the "monsoon season" as my dear mother so aptly puts it. You wake up in the morning, maybe you feel like P. Diddy, maybe you don't, I don't know you, and before you brush your teeth with a bottle of jack, or a tooth brush, you realize that this morning is not like other mornings. There isn't a horrible brightness penetrating through your window. Instead there is a slight greyness. A thin layer of clouds is covering the sun. As the day goes on bigger and bigger clouds move in. Finally you look up and realize that the clouds above are Cumulonimbus, thank you Russell of Up, and it is looking like a storm. Now the waiting begins. Because it is so frakking hot in Utah like all the time it may or may not rain. So you walk around, hoping, dreaming and praying for rain. Any moisture hitting your skin be it someone's sprinklers on your leg or someone's spittle on you arm makes you stop, look up, and search for drops. Somedays no drops come, and it is exceptionally sad. Other days however the rain does come, and oh how it comes. It can start slowly, with a flash of light and rumble in the distance and then come the little drops that build, but sometimes is sudden with huge drops all of a sudden coming from the sky. Either way eventually you have what I like to call the torrential downpour, although a weather man may have used it first. And everything is wet and there are puddles to jump in and frolic through and it smells amazing and the wind is blowing and sometimes there is thunder and lightning and it's fabulous, absolutely fabulous. So even though Disney's song rolled off the tongue better I will take August torrential downpours over April showers any day of the week.

An accredited four year university by any other name would smell...almost as sweet

Hello nonreaders (Krystal I'm ignoring you and continuing to pretend that no one reads this, thanks for telling me you do and shattering my nice little illusion of anonymity, now I'm self conscious, jerk.) As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by actual humans, sorry it's been so long, I'm sure you haven't missed me, but boy have I missed spilling my guts to the nonexistent you! "Jessica," you most probably have not been saying to yourselves "Jessica why, why did you leave us for so long. We have been lost without your witty ramblings about the goings on in your life and the random thoughts that float into your head. Are you dead dear Jessica?" Let me assure you oblivious blogoshpere I am not dead. Where have I been? Well in the last 10 days I, and all of my personal belongings and worldly possessions, have been bouncing around like a 3 year old who just ate cotton candy and got into a bounce house. As many of you undoubtedly don't know I have had to leave my beloved UCLA and transfer to the slightly less beloved University of Utah. And let me tell you transferring personal belongings and schools in basically a two week span is a b*tch if you'll pardon my almost French. Let me break down to you how things have gone.

8/13/2010: I go to my last day of work, which is a friday, and party all night with my parking cohorts.

8/14/2010: Parental units show up with our truck, because apparently we own a truck now.

8/15/2010: We pack up all my crap and drive the 10 hours back to Mapleton. There are some tears, a lot of napping, and a lot of angry hip hop and rap. Oh yeah, I be gangsta.

The week of the 15th: I unpack my clothes, clean my clothes, repack my clothes as well as go through all the stuff that I left at home in order to determine what I want to take, what I want to give away,what I want to throw away, and what I want to stash away and decided to throw away later. I also have friends to see, social functions to attend, sleep to catch up on, orientation to go to, counselors to meet with, a roommate to see for the first time, a lease to sign and furniture and clothes and bedding and kitchen ware to move from Mapleton to Salt Lake. While I am trying to do all this my mother is trying to tell me how to do all this and I am ignoring her, but trying to make it seem like I'm doing all the things she says I should do. Basically my life that week was as exhausting and long and confusing as the description above, but I figure, hey once I get moved in and settled it will all be good. Once school starts all will be right with the world.

8/23/2010: School starts. All is not right with the world. You see, the University of Utah has decided that I am not a resident of Utah, and that I have until friday to prove that I am in fact a Utah resident. So in short I moved back to Utah because UCLA won't give me residency, and now Utah says I'm not a resident. I am a resident of no state. I feel like my life is a Beatles song right now. I'm a real nowhere man, living in my nowhere land, making all my nowhere plans for nobody. It's not as awesome as you would think.

8/27/2010 Oh hey thats brings us to today. My feet are sore, my mind is tired, and my room is a mess. But! by the end of today I will prove to the admission beezies that I am a resident, I joined an LDS Sorority which means I will have friends, and I think I'm almost happy. Do I miss California? Yes terribly. Do I wish I could be at UCLA working for parking and being generally awesome at this very moment? Completely. But unfourtunatley I can wish on all the shooting stars, and airplanes that I'm pretending are shooting stars, and that's not going to happen. So I think I am going to just have to be awesome here. Because the U is a great school, and an accredited university by any other name not UCLA smells as sweet right? Actually it smells a lot better here because of the lack of smog.

UCLA Parking, an ode and a diatribe, both

Well folks, today was my last day of being gainfully employed by UCLA parking. I've worked there for one year and five months. It's been one year and five months of the best job and the worst job I've ever had. So lets start with the bad and then end with the good. Because that way you are left with a good flavor, like mint toothpaste or raspberries, and not a bad taste like that icky taste you get after you take a nap.The bad part of parking is mostly the actual job itself. Waking up at 5 am, so as to catch the bus and get to work by 6:30, not so fun. I mean I got up at 6 all through high school, but there is a big difference between five and six. 60 big differences in fact. All I have to say is that I should not be getting up at the same time my roommates are going to bed. It's sick and wrong. And the people you have to help. This job has basically ruined all hope I had for the collective intelligence and courtesy of the human race. Put simply people are rude, stupid, loud, grumpy, condesending, and all to eager to yell at the little guy. Examples, people yelling at me about the "ridiculously high price" of parking. I know that parking costs a lot. But this is UCLA and we have no money. Also you rolling your eyes, sighing heavily and making a snarky comment isn't going to make me suddenly give you free parking, or magically lower the cost of parking. It's not like complaining is the key to get me to suddenly say, "you know what, you're right, I'm going to change that price right now." I work in a 3 by 8 kiosk, and wear a blue polo(one of which I stole) and a pouch (also stollen.) Do you really think I can do ANYTHING about the price of parking, like at? Cuz I'm gonna be straight with you, I can't.

People don't listen. They don't. I give good directions. I do. For example: toget to lot 6 you're going to go straight through the light in front of us into the bus turn around. Follow the curve around until you hit the stop sign and then lot six will be straight in front of you." That was pretty clear right? So imagine my frustration when people say "so I turn left at the right?" Really, REALLY? I didn't say left once. I said straight twice, but never once did I say left. So you know what? You go ahead and turn left. I'll see you again in ten minutes when you're late and mad and still an idiot.

I could go on, but I won't because then I would seem bitter. Which I guess I am, but seeming bitter is bad, so I'll go on being bitter on the inside and pretending to be content and full of hope for humanity on the outside.

The good thing about parking was the people. Not the people I help. Those people are insufferable jerks who don't think I know what I'm doing, and try and tell me what to do. Do you really think that you are the only person going to a campus tour I've ever helped sir? I mean really? The group campus tour that runs twice a day 5 days a week? Yeah, I know where your going, but thanks for the directions. Nope not those morons. I'm talking about the people I work with. I guess that working in an itty bitty kiosk for 8 hours any given day really bonds you like nothing else can. I have laughed so much with the people I work with. I've met some really great people who I really thinkand hope I will know for the rest of my life. I worked with a group of funny, irreverent, inappropriate, kind, and awesome people. This is incredibly mushy, but just getting to know and party with those fools everyday turned working a crap job into working a great job.

K6 for life! TSAAAAAAAAA!

The Return of the King

WOOOOT! I finished all three movies in the LOTR trilogy. BAM! I... need to get a life. I was looking at my last posts on the subject and realized that I am a dork, and need to keep it short. SO here it goes, but in a short way.

Favorite line, Legolas "A diversion!" Thank you. Thank you for that. Also, I think there are scenes when he doesn't have blue contacts in, and others where he does.

One might think this book is all about the good of humanity and good defeating evil, but is it really? I mean in the end the ring getting destroyed is kind of fluke. Frodo doesn't destroy it. Gollum bites it off Frodo's finger and then falls into the fires of Mount Doom. Up to the end Frodo is fighting to get that ring back. Frodo gives into the temptations of the ring. What does that say about man and hobbit kind? I guess that we are all human, and while we can be great, we can't be perfect. I'm ok with that message.

So many extended and added scenes. I don't even think it's the same movie.

In closing, see, I kept it short. I love those movies, and I love Hobbits, and I love Middle Earth. LOTR lover for life!

LOTR 2, in which there are towers, two of them

Part 2 of LOTRTHON 2010 today. It was the "Two Towers" in which actual fighting goes on in many different places, namely Helms Deep and Isengard, and on many different levels, namely between races, between individuals and between fractions of self. So first for the big reflections. I feel like many trilogies, ok mostly I'm thinking of Star Wars here, but still, follow a pattern. The set up, the bad guy looks strong but doesn't win, the good guy wins the war. So this part was the bad guy part. Evil is on the rise. Evil comes against all our heros in one way and another, and at the very end good manages to squeak out a win. This is especially true in the battle at Helms Deep. Seriously, talk about a last minute entry with the riders of Rohan.

I sensed a bit of social commentary when they were ripping apart Isengard. You know the whole, tear down the forest to make way for a new age of industry. Sound like any civilizations we know? Cough, the western world, cough. Sorry imaginary readers I had some phlegm... in my fingers. And seeing as how in the end of the movie nature kicks industries butt maybe we ought to learn a lesson.

Now on to witty character commentary. We, meaning I but trying to be inclusive to all the people who don't read this blog, talked about Legolas's role last entry. You know, stay clean, look sexy, state the obvious while sounding wise. I figured out how he does this. When he is looking out into the distance using his "elf eyes" to see crap, his eyes get all big. But then when he is stating the obvious his eyes get all scrunched like what he is saying is took a great deal of mental capacity to come up with. Then he looks back and forth, like he's searching for the words. When he finally comes up with some he speaks at a slow pace and tilts his head to the side. All this results in him looking wise and sexy even when he says completely asinine things like "a red sun rises, blood has been spilt this night." Other roles of Legolas include to encourage others, but in a condescending way, and to mock Gimli. Gimli's role then would be that of comic relief, and an awesome accent. Aragorn, which completes that little trilogy of people, is the leader, tracker, hunter, ladies man, and general bad ass, pardon the french, of the group.

In this movie we start to see emo Frodo emerge. This is linked with the coming of Gollum. He starts to doubt Sam, bad life decision, and love the ring, worse life decision. His only bit of redemption comes when he realizes that without Sam he would be dead. I know carrying the ring is a horrible task, but I wish he would realize this more often.

Now to my favorite person in the trilogy, Samwise Gamgee. He is the purest kindest best kind of person, or hobbit I suppose. If more people were like him, then the world would be a better place. The speech he gives at the end of the movie, about the world and the stories, it's beautiful. Frodo doesn't deserve him.

Other notes: Bad guys usually have bad hair and bad teeth. That's what I like to call Karma. The scene where Gandolf, and the three non-hobbits emerge from the forest and Shaddowfax comes galloping towards him. For a moment I was like wait, wait, is that a unicorn? I think it is, I think that Gandolf gets to ride a uni... oh wait, no, thats just a really white horse. Sure he's king of the horses, but thats not as cool as riding a unicorn. It was a sad moment. Why don't the ring wraiths ride those dragon things all the time? Makes more sense to me.

Well world of the blogosphere who are all completely ignorant of my existence. I am glad you are out there to not listen to me be a complete and total freak-a-leek about Lord of the Rings. I'm glad you are there to unwittingly put up with me. Until next time, and look out for red rising suns.

LOTR FTW!!!

So because I am not taking classes at the moment, and get done with work at three, and don't have any particularly big goals for the summer besides finish "War and Peace." I know how cool am I. I have decided that my life goal for this week is to watch the entire "Lord of the Rings" trilogy, extended version. I'm thinking I will finish this goal up by Wednesday and then I might go back and watch all the bonus features. Today marked day one on my quest to vicariously travel to Mordor alongside Frodo and Sam. Here are my notes on the first movie in this epic trilogy. First off the extended version is friggin long. I mean wow. I started at like 4 and it is now 7. I feel it was three hours well spent though. Second note this movie is not as action packed as the second two. When I first saw this movie, sitting in the theater with my family having just completed the book, I thought it was super full of action. But really it's just kind of a lead up to the action of the two other movies. It's like these movies are going through the fight or flight reaction. This movie is the flight. Basically the fellowship is running away. No plan, no battles unless they absolutely need them. I also feel like Frodo grow a lot in this movie, but has yet to grow so much that he is a total back stabbing emo kid. Frodo is my favorite in this movie for sure. Other, less important things I noticed. Aragorn and Arwen's babies are going to be absolutely fantastically beautiful. Sean Astin was born to be a hobbit. He just looks like a hobbit. I look at him with out a traveling cloak and hairy feet and still think, now that there is one hobbit-y little man. Orlando Bloom's Legolas seems to have one role, and that is to look sexily off into the distance and then state the obvious, but sound really wise doing it. Oh, and he never gets dirty. Aragorn, Gimli, Gandolf, the Hobbits, and Boromir usually are seen in varying degrees of filth and nastiness, but not Legolas. He is always very clean and his hair is always fantastic. ANd thats not an elf trait because Elrond is all dirty in the flashbacks . We'll see, I'm using the royal we here, if this cleanliness thing holds true in later movies.

Until I next get my dork on remember that LOTR rules all!

Going to a Party?

Well here I am, sitting on a couch preparing to go to a college party. It's my second ever. I believe the purpose for gathering is to play beer pong. As a Mormon I don't drink. So I'm going with a friend to a party where everyone will be playing drinking games, but me. Everyone will be getting drunk, but me. Everyone will be enjoying a happy alcohol induced buzz, but me. And finally everyone will be totally sloppy drunk, but me. So my question is, am I really going to a party? I'm not going to be partying, not really. So does that mean I will be at a party, or will I simply be near a party, around a party. In a party, but not at the party. Without participating in normal college party activities will I be able to look back on these happy events and say that I went to parties in college? I'll let you know.

Why are books cooler than people?

This summer will be my last in California. Yes world of nonreaders, I am going back home to Utah and the University of Utah. Reason's being that UCLA is stupid and won't give me residency and I don't want more debt and to have to work all the time. THERE! I said it and now you know, or you would if you existed. So anyway you would think that as I my time in LA is limited I would be partying like a rock star, or at the very least strapping on my fanny pack and trying to see all of LA like and enthusiastic tourist. You would think wrong. More and more I find myself wanting to avoid the company of others and escape into a good book. I, being the introspective and self evaluating person that I am have turned within myself to try and find out why books are cooler than people (notice the nod at the post title there.) I will number this list, and present it to you now.

5. The smell. I guess I can only half count this. I mean some people smell quite good. But other people do not smell good at all. A book on the other hand always smells good. I have never placed my nose deep within a books pages and not been satisfied with the smell of the air that passes through my schnoz. For those of you wondering how much time I actually spend with my nose quite literally stuck in a book, it's a pretty decent amount when compared to the average amount of time a normal person spends sniffing books. While I'm on this train of thought while it is weird to sniff books, it's not as creepy as sniffing actual people.

4. The drama. In books most conflict is a)necessary and b) resolved or dealt with by the end of the book. If only life could be this way. Seriously so many times I find myself, or hear of others dealing with completely unnecessary drama and having issues that never get resolved and are forever blown out of proportion. If only life's could follow that awesome 6th grade plot mountain: introduction, rising action, climax, falling action, conclusion. That would be the best thing ever because no matter how bad things get you know that eventually there has to be a falling action and conclusion where things are resolved.

3. The variety. If I had to guess how many different books had been written ever in the entire history of the earth I would say about a bafrillion. Books come in every shape size and style, just like people. Books differ from people in the fact that you can go to your local library, bookstore or Amazon and find exactly what you are looking for in a book. With people, it's a little more difficult. You're basically stuck with what you have or can find in your immediate surroundings. Sometimes I wish I could go to a library of people. Except that's a little creepy and weird.

2. Libraries/bookstores. They have books by the hundreds and thousands. They smell fantastic. They have comfy chairs. They are available most everywhere. They are quiet. People don't bug you. I wish I could live there. In a dream world I would be paid to sit in Barns and Noble and read, all day.

1. The escape. When I read a book I can go anywhere and do anything. I can pick a character and put myself in his or her shoes. I can fight for Russia in the Napoleonic wars. I can keep Geese and find my true love. I can slay dragons, and learn spells. I can do all of these things sitting on my comfy couch drinking chocolate milk. I can pick up a book and forget about my problems. I get transported to another world and don't have to leave it until I read that last page. To me that is the best thing about books.

So this post probably makes me sound like a crazy cat lady or shut in, but as long as I have my books, I think I'm ok with that. Leo Tolstoy doesn't care if I lose all my friends and become one with my couch, so neither do I.

Reason I miss my bestest friend

Ok world of adoring fans who exist only in my mind, prepare for some seriously sappy crap. Sorry, it must be done, so bare with me. After years of denying the fact that I don't have a best friend, that I have lots of friends who I love equally well I must finally admit that I do in fact have a best friend. Her name is Heather Marné Williams. Thats not to say that I don't have a lot of other friends who I value and love and couldn't live without, but Heather is what some would call my bestie. The reason why, I believe, is that we are both sarcastic, but hilarious. Horrible people with good hearts. We have similar taste in music, movies, books, language, annoyances, clothes, shoes, etc. I can talk to her about most things, and I think she can do the same with me. I have heard people say we are basically the same person, and it's true, we basically are. For the past two years we have lived like 1000 miles apart with me in LA and her in Utah. Which sucks, but you know we are only 1 hour apart and can facebook and text and skype. This summer however she is in South Africa. The time difference is much greater and our opportunities to communicate in everyway besides telepathically have been reduced, and even the telepathic communications get scrambled in their transatlantic voyage. They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder. I am a living testimony of this. I miss my best friend. I miss driving in the car singing to stupid songs with her. I miss making fun of stupid people with her. I miss complain about the stupidness of life with her. I miss her. All of her... no homo.

Cleaning

Dear nonexistent readers. The fact that I am writing this blog for imagined readers, and yes readers, who are not actually reading this, I do imagine quite a few of you reading this blog, shows that I have a very vivid imagination. Sometimes I wish the things in my mind would fall out into the world. For instance I think it would be swell if all my adoring fans were real, because then I would become famous and rich and they would make a movie about me just like "Julie and Julia." Today that is not the thing that I want to come out of my imagination. Today the thing that I want out of my imagination was a magic machine that would do all my cleaning for me. Because I know that will never be possible my second wish is that cleaning would be as easy and organized and fast as I imagine it. See before I do things I usually visualize them. Today as I sat and visualized cleaning I imagined it would be easy, and not take me all that long and I would be left with a spotless bedroom. False. It took me forever to clean my room and it's still not spotless. There are little bits and things everywhere. Moral of the story? I don't care anymore. I'm done trying to keep my room clean. F that noise, I'm a mess, deal with it.

Reason's why everyone should own a full length mirror

Riding the bus, and working at parking gives me plenty of time to people watch. This people watching of people, specifically poorly dressed people has provided me with a list of fashion faux pas that make me think that making it a law for everyone to own a full length mirror, and use it. Here is said list.

1. Visible panty lines, or heaven forbid visible panties. Ok sometimes I get it a line along the cheek creeps in, it happens. But I should not be able to tell exactly where your thong sits, or whether your undies are made of lace by happening to catch a glimpse of your backside as a walk behind you.

2. See through clothing. On the bus this morning I women was wearing pants so tight, and so white that i could see her red and white striped underwear very clearly. Let me tell you what I don't want to see when I'm on the bus at 6:30 in the morning. Your underwear. I mean did it cross this woman's mind that white is not a super solid pant color and that non-colored underwear might be a good thing? Seriously, and if that was intention I have one word for you. Tacky. Making sure that everybody knows what kind of underwear or bra you are in is a cheap ploy for attention specifically the attention of creepy hormonal boys. Get your fix some other way.

3. Ugg boots, and more specifically ugg boots with shorts. It is my firm opinion or perhaps hope that anyone who actually saw what they looked like when they wore uggs would stop immediately. Especially if they saw how ridiculous wearing booty shorts and Uggs looks. If you are cold you should take off the shorts and put on pants, even if you still insist on sticking your foot into a shoe that not only feels but looks like a sheep's ass, at least it makes tempuratural sense. If you are warm wear sandals because then no part of you will overheat.. If you are determined to look short and heinous then by all means pair you uggs with shorts, everybody with sense will hate you.

4. Body parts popping out of clothing. Call me a prude but if you can't sit down, bend over and shake it like a salt shaker without some inappropriate, or unintentional body part slipping out then you should change. The list of clothing in danger here are daisy dukes, mini skirts, those things that are too long to be shirts but don't have enough fabric to be qualified as a dress, low cut tops and tube tops. Just because you aren't worried about exposing yourself to the world doesn't mean the world isn't worried about you exposing yourself to it.

5. Muffin Tops. Very very very very very few people have perfect bodies. I know that. But everybody can buy jeans that are a bit bigger and shirts that are a bit longer. You will look better without a ring of flesh hanging over your jeans, I promise.

6 Plumbers crack. How do you not feel that breeze? Pull up the pants because the butt crack is in the running with pinky toes, and the uvula for the least attractive and sexy part of the body.

I'm not saying I have perfect fashion sense, or even good fashion sense, in fact my fashion sense sucks but the afore mentioned things, in my opinion are horrible crimes which should be stopped, and could be stopped with the use of a full length mirror. Sorry if this comes across rude, but I have seen all I can see and can no longer remain silent as my eyes bleed.

Life... as a musical?

Today I watched the 1955 version of Oklahoma. I have come to the conclusion that life would be better if it followed musical format. Seriously. Lets look at the pros and cons. Pros: If you are the protagonist everything is going to work out for you. You will find and capture the love of you life, figure out your problems, and probably grow as a person. And you get to do all these things with snappy song and dance numbers mixed right in. Any internal and external struggles are resolved in 2 maybe 3 scenes. Instead of fighting with your fists you get to do awesome ballet/break dance fighting. You also get to sing about your anger instead of repressing it and suffering horrible psychological complications later on in life. I mean sure there are some cons, the costumes are uncomfy, the makeup is horrific and generally your life would be really really cheesy. But quite honestly this protagonist, call me narcissistic but I do consider myself a protagonist, at least in my own life story, would greatly prefer to go through life knowing that in the end, no matter what sort of hardships I might face I will be rewarded with the perfect men, a resolution to all my woes and heartache and a greater knowledge of my inner self. So bring on the jazz hands and get my life to the theatre, it's show time.

Domesticity

Today my roommate, my roommates boyfriend and I were domestic. We made a nice chicken(instead of shrimp as both Kristina and I are allergic) creole and peach cobbler. Oh yeah and we had on aprons. This got me thinking. I mean I am a big fan of feminism. I firmly believe that women should be able to work in all the same jobs as man, go to all the same schools as men, receive the same pay as men, and not be looked down on it. But I also like to cook. It makes me sad that when I choose to embrace something like cooking it's seen as natural. Of course you like to cook Jessica, you are after all a female. To that I say poo poo. My dad and both my brother, and Chris and a bunch of guys cook and are good. And there are plenty of chicks who can't cook. I don't really know where I'm going with this. I guess I just want to say to all my non readers out there, that I cook, but that doesn't mean I am a Hannah Housewife and if anyone tells me that my place is in the kitchen they will be punched in the face. But if you want a baked good let me know, cuz I love baked goods.

The lingering effect

I just got back from a 5 day camping extravaganza to Sequoia National Park. Side note: Sequoia looks wrong no matter how you spell it. It's a weird word. Any who, it was absolutely beautiful. Sequoias(so many vowels) are possibly the most amazing trees ever. They can survive fire with this stuff called tannin that puts out the fire and they are SO FRAKKING HUGE! I was in constant awe. Along with massively huge Sequoias I also saw two black bears, 5 or more deers, countless woodland rodents, and oh yeah, a lot of camp fires. I love campfires. They are beautiful and hot and allow one to do great things like roast marshmallows and hot dogs and express your inner pyromaniac. All good things. The only bad thing is that oh so distinctive camp fire smell that lingers on long after the campfire is gone. Seriously that smell is powerful. It creeps into you clothes and attaches itself to the fibers and stays there for two or three washes there after. It also attaches itself quite effectively to hair follicles. Especially mine. After camping I hopped right in the shower, stayed there for 45 minutes and shampooed(also a funny looking word) twice. I also used scented hair product on exiting said shower. And still, as I sit here my nose picks of the oh so distinct scent of hair wafting to my nostrils from my hair. I will probably continue to smell of campfire for two more days. I'll think its gone, and then with a strong breeze or a swift turn of my head I will catch a whiff of smoke and realize I still smell like a mountain woman. Oh well, I guess that's the price you must pay for immersing yourself in nature and escaping the modern world.

Identical twins shouldn't be identical

So, I don't really want twins. I mean, two kids simultaneously sounds like horrible. No sleep, two times the diapers, and twice the noise. I mean don't get me wrong I love kids and if I I have twins, then fine, and good and yes. And if I have twins one thing I will never do is dress my twins, or heck two kids of similar age and gender, in identical outfits. It's just, it's just, it's just so horrible. I mean really, why would you do that? I mean it's bad when they are babies, because babies all look the same so how would you know which was which? But when there are four year old, or even eight year old twins dressed the same, exactly the same. Freaks me out. People need to stop doing this. I mean why buy two of the same outfit? Just buy twice as many clothes of all different kinds and then make them share. BAM! Two birds, one stone. The children don't look like freaks, and they learn to share! I will never make my children suffer like this, and hope that you, not reading world, will follow my lead.

I'll admit it, I'm a spoonist.

World, who is not reading, I have a confession to make. I am a spoonist. Which is like a racist but with spoons. I hate big spoons. But not the super huge spoons with which you use to scoop delicious things like mashed potatoes onto your plate. Those are fine, and useful, and deliver goodness to my plate which then goes to my mouth, so I actually like those spoons quite a bit. I'm talking about those spoons that are supposed to be used for things like cereal but are too big to ACTUALLY fit in your mouth, and if you do manage to fit it in your mouth they hold too much food so you end up choking on the spoonful of food you just struggled to cram into your mouth. I really don't like them. They serve no purpose. The are too big to be used for regular stuff without dire consequences as described above, but too small to be used to scoop meaningful amounts of food from a serving receptacle to the plate. I think they're only good for sour cream scooping. Beyond that all they do is clutter up your silverware drawer and trick you with their rounded tops when you are searching for a spoon in the dishwasher. I wish they were dead, and think bad things about them and refuse to let them do things that all spoons should be allowed to do like enter my mouth, and scoop things. And so you see I am a spoonist, but really, can you blame me?

Don't worry, be happy. But seriously, JUST BE HAPPY FOR ONCE.

There are people in this world who cannot, or will not be happy. The work and work and work and work toward something and then when they get there or do it, or in other word succeed they don't say HEY GO ME I'M AWESOME it's well it wasn't what I wanted, or I don't know why I wanted that, or what do I do now. Why is this? Seriously how do you find the will to live if you are never happy. How do you get out of bed in the morning without being able to look forward to something. I don't understand it. I really think that you have to cut yourself some slack sometimes, and just be glad that you did something instead of focusing on all the other things you didn't do. I feel like this isn't very coherent, but as no onw\e is reading this I don't give a flying rat's patootee. So, non existent uninterested world, just be happy. Please. For instance, today coming home my nostrils picked up the delicate scent of freshly mown grass. Is there anything more delightful than catching a whiff of freshly mown grass? It is one of my simple joys. And I love it. SEE!!! Even now in the midst of finals hell I can experience moments of happiness. LEARN FROM ME! Also learn from my humility.

I guess I'll be trendy

Welp, I accidentally started a blog trying to follow my friend Heathers Blog. My bad. But now it's here so I guess I'll start blogging. I think I'll blog about me. I don't like talking about myself, but with interviews in my future maybe this will learn me up. Hopefully no one reads this though. Cuz that would be weird. I think I'll write to write, because I like to write. So here I am. Writing. Yup. Writing about me. Or maybe I'll just stick to writing about writing about me for today and save actually writing about me for another day, when I have more strength. Yeah, I think I'll go with that.