Spew

Sometimes, I house sit for my grandparents. And there aren't really any computers there that they didn't take with them, or that they want to be used. I also haven't dug my laptop out of my filthy bedroom where I haven't actually moved into yet, or gotten my other laptop fixed. So I kinda sorta more or less completely gave up on bothering with the whole computer thing. It just so happens that at the moment I'm in Idaho with my friend for her graduation, and she's doing a lot of stuff that she needs to do, and I have her computer. Thus, my email has been taken care of for the first time in over a month, and I am also writing a blog post! Yay! Because you all missed me, so much. Not really, but the little thing that tells me how many page views I have is telling me zero. Which is a little depressing when you think of all the millions of people who get on the internet every day for obscene amounts of time. Not really though, because this is the kind of thing that's hard to find on purpose. Also, my hair, on it's growing out way, looks super goofy when I sleep on it wet. Just so everyone knows. I might get it shaped and cut again, but not until after I pay for a variety of other stuffs. Oh, the life of a poor college student. I really really want Latin dancing shoes. And I haven't been for FOUR WEEKS. I'm dying here. It's really quite tragic. BUT! Next week. It will happen. And much joy and happiness will result, and I will get to see mi amiga my once upon a time roommate. And my phone is dying. But not dead yet. Point is, the screen has acquired a scratch, and I don't really know how that happened. And grump. But it's okay. It's a good little (it's actually pretty big...) phone. And my friend has a graduation tree! It's like a Christmas tree, but with very different ornamentation. And I hate clothes. And my leprosy. And it's a good day for doing nothing. Oh yeah! The crack on my screen kinda looks like a flattened spider... Like off the comic strip Garfield? Yeah, that. It's actually pretty cool. And because I have a sweet flippy screen, it changes position. Oh yeah. And I brought my little sister to Idaho with me, but I seem to have lost her... I don't know where she's gotten off to... I also don't know if I should be worried about that. And I might need to get dressed soon, because the blow dryer just went off. That sounds suspiciously like someone who is almost ready to start a day. I guess I'll go get on that... Sigh....

I've Been Expecting You

You know those dramatic moments in movies, when the hero walks into an office with an amazing city view, and there's the bad guy behind a desk, facing the window, who then turns dramatically and smoothly, with fingertips together and says, "I've been expecting you."? One time that happened to me, but just a bit differently. Picture this. You walk into the public restroom. Sitting in a char (it did not swivel) facing the door is a small person. Fingertips together, legs crossed, the whole schmear, and they say, "I've been expecting you," with a mischievous little grin. Generally in a Hollywood flick you can determine or know exactly what such a line/scenario would mean. In real life, it's a little less straight forward. Expecting me? Because I'm human and would have to pee eventually? Because someone framed me to set up a meeting to set my life on a roller coaster of action packed events? Because you're clinically insane? Because I told my little sister that I needed to pee, and then got waylaid by someone, so she ran to the bathroom and sat in the chair and waited for me because she might be a little something of a weirdy? Oh that one makes sense...

Then! There was the time I accidentally woke her up at about midnight. I was sleeping in her room because mine was inhabitable at the time. She had fixed the remote that turned on her light from any location, and so had put that in some unknown place. This meant that I could not flip on the light and check to see what obstacles lay in the way of my getting to the bed, and where she was so that I wouldn't land on her. So I just went for it. Tripped over a lot on my way to the bed, made a lot of noise, and totally landed on her. This resulted in her waking up and about an hour of giggling or so. We talked, but mostly giggled. Probably because my little sister would say things like, "Oh! I have bubbles on my underwear!" Because she's super odd. I wonder where she gets it....

Turn, Driver, Turn!

Once upon a time, I hate people who don't use their turn signal (disclaimer: this is for humor purposes only. I don't really hate people, and certainly wouldn't for frivolous reasons of that previously stated.). I think that there is probably a special corner of hell reserved specifically for them. They're not there for funsies, or as an extra; you can't pass safety and emissions inspection without them! Clearly they're important (well.... we would hope that necessary for safety and emissions means that, but who knows?). Anyway. Once upon a time. I was driving. And I was going to turn left at a particular stop light. Everyone across the intersection from me was in the "straight" lane, which is also the right turn lane. I was turning left. There are two lanes on the road I was turning onto, so people turning right across the way and people turning left (like myself) could do so at the same time. Theoretically. See, if none of the 7 people who are turning right signal that such is the case, I cannot safely turn left. If you exist, dear reader, I would love to hear about your frustrating turn signal stories.

Also, I think that some national team or another from Utah should be named "The Utah Jaywalkers" because I feel like that adequately sums up pretty much everything about Utahan driving. For instance, I walked to the bank from my new place of employment last week. They are on opposite sides of Springville main street, which is in fact, quite main. Instead of using a stop light and a cross walk as required by law, I found it much more convenient to not go out of my way too far up or down, and to just jog across the road in a brief break in traffic. As did all the other pedestrians in similar situations. In fact, I was driving home yesterday and saw an old woman in a mobile chair. She was waiting to cross the same road. There was no marked cross walk, stop light, or any such thing. At that particular intersection. However, there was a cross walk a single block up. But did she want to use it? No. She is (as many of us are) a true fan of the Utah Jaywalkers. I went on choir tour once. There was more than one time that small children from Utah almost died jaywalking in Los Angeles, Branson, and Chicago.

I'm sure you'll be hearing more along these lines in the future. And now dear reader, I wish you pleasant dreams, a sweet life, and no headaches.

No, I Really Have A Banana!

I don't know what you do when you have no school and only work 8 hours a week, but I get another job. This means that instead of becoming a cashier at Walmart or working for Sears or Seven Peaks, I took a job with my aunt in her office. This means that I get to set my own hours, and that I can't really work outside of normal office hours; i.e. I have evenings and weekends to my own little socialite (haha) college student self. Woot! Anywho. Yesterday was my first full day of work. It began like this. I was told to be at the office at 10:00. I had gone to bed past one, and my little sister was kind enough to agree to wake me up by 9:00 so I could shower and leave by 9:30 to be there on time. She then left for some reason, and arrived home at 9:15 to wake me up. So I showered very quickly, clothed myself, and ate breakfast in the car, all in exactly enough time to arrive at the office at precisely 10:00. Where there was no one. I was by my lonesome (in terms of people to advise, instruct, and slave drive), which does not make for a productive use of time. Fortunately, I had stuff from the previous afternoon to complete, and so worked on that. It was then convenient that 45 minutes later when I was finishing that, a slave driver arrived to put me to work and to instruct me on what the devil was to be done. My day further involved a trip to the post office, the bank, the mall, searching for a banana, and learning how to pintrest. Pintresting is not terribly difficult, but I had never before done it. The banana search was directly related to the mall. My aunt told me to return some pants, and to drive her car. She wanted her banana though. I could not find the banana. I went back into the office and told her so. She told me, "No! I really do have a banana!" And then I went and found it in the trunk under the pants. Twas all very interesting. Then the mall. And then a birthday celebration, and dinner at Magleby's. And. That is what one does.

Tales Of A Teenage Babysitter

I babysat again yesterday. The same whole trampoline, I'm a monster thing, etc etc. This time, as part of my monster roll, I decided to wrap them up in blankets as burritos. This was met with much enthusiasm and enjoyment. I thought about how much they clamored to be wrapped in burritos and left in tunnels of monsters, and how that was partly my fault, and I maybe shouldn't have done that. But then it made me think of a time, years ago, when I babysat different little girls. They wanted to play unicorns, and rocket ships, and I don't even know what all. This mostly involved picking sparkly pink as the color of (insert whatever game we were playing) and then changing their minds. My structured mind couldn't handle the non-plotness of this/ games. So I made up a game about witches, which actually had a plot. Which somehow came to involve eating each other. And every single time after that, when I came over they wanted to play the witch game. Probably the third time that I came over and they were super excited to play the witch game, I thought about what I had possibly done. I taught them cannibalism! So after I thought about that, I didn't feel so bad about making them excited about becoming burritos. At one point we left the basement and went to the kitchen. I don't recall why. So then they made each of us cups of gummy bears, which they consumed. It was a lot of gummy bears. I wondered if I should have stopped that. But I didn't. I'm decently certain my little sister would be a much better babysitter. In all fairness, it seemed legit, and their mother had said they could eat anything they wanted before she left. So. Then they wanted to paint. With only green. So they did. They painted little Disney color pages and stuff. The oldest told me she was going to paint me a pretty picture to take home and give to my mom. Which she did. In all green. Basically, she turned the page from white to green. But it was cute, and she made sure I took it home. They also wanted to see me do gymnastics, which meant I did some flips on the tramp for them. But then they wanted to do them too. They are 2, 3, and 4. So. I more or less spun them upside down. It was good enough for them. Anywho. It was another good time, hanging with some small fries, and possibly altering the course of their psychology forever :)

No Wisdom For You!

I dunno what you do when you have no school and don't work Fridays and it's a glorious day, but I get knocked out and have parts of my body completely removed and then thrown away. Wisdom teeth my good friends, are apparently useless and so must be removed. They stabbed my arm, injected me with stuff, I was out like a light, and essentially woke up getting into the car. Which, if I recall correctly involved piques.... Then I almost died in the car a few times because I would fall asleep and my gauze would become saturated. As no part of my face works, this would result in trickles of disgustingness going in places they shouldn't, and violent cough/inhale death fits. Also, I cannot speak hardly at all. I sound like a mentally (this is not supposed to be offensive or in jest) disabled person, unable to create certain sounds at all with my mouth, making communication incredibly difficult.

Day 2
After arriving home (this is yesterday), I ate some yogurt. While bleeding profusely. Not pleasant, let me tell you. Then my family left me entirely alone at home. So I took my for real pain killer, and it took an hour to kick in. Which was horrendous, because at this point I was in pain. Not "Death!" kind of pain, just like, "Holy shoot my face my face my face my face, this is incredibly uncomfortable" kind of pain. Anywho. I then decided to take a bath and see if it would help alleviate said pain. It did, and eventually the drugs kicked in. So I go to get out of the tub. I dry off okay, I put on my giant man plaid shirt okay, then I start walking and my body tries to faint. So I quickly go lay down in my little sister's room, but it's too hot. I couldn't stay there. So I walk/stumble out to the deck, where I lay myself down. Granted, I wouldn't really say that I had complete control of my body. My head hit a little harder than I would have liked, but it's not like I collapsed. But apparently it was pretty loud, because then my little brother comes out, sees me, informs my dad that I've died on the deck, and goes to get him. This resulted in the third degree. What was my name, was I alive, etc etc. All those questions they asked trauma patients and people who have had brain surgery. But I was alive, it was okay, they let me lie on the deck for awhile (pantless, which my littlest brother found to be of import, and informed everyone of in the resulting telling of the "She died on the deck" story.) Then I pretty much went to bed. I awoke here and there in the night, but it wasn't bad and I just went back to sleep. Upon awaking this morning, I had hair like Medusa. Or a colonial wig. It's all about perspective. In any event, I look stunningly attractive at the moment.

Day 3
Day 2 further involved sitting around while a friend did yardwork, and going to an epic party involving delicious (though I could not eat) Armenian barbeque, and dancing. And getting home very late. Then I hated life. And was tired of my face and eating yogurt.

Day 4
I'm sick and tired of this crap, yo.

Y Not?

I will tell why not. Because I have never been to the Y, and did not know anything about how to get there. And then the other Y not would be because the Ecuadorian friend with you at 10:30 pm who wants to hike the Y doesn't know how to get there either! That's Y not. He told me he knew how to get there because he had been several times and such and such. But really he didn't. Mostly his way of getting there involved driving in the general direction of the mountain on which the Y was. And that was about as close as he was getting. And he made me go this way, and that, and back again, and around this way, and up to there, and turn left, then right, then left, left, right, left, right, right. Basically he had no idea. We did, however, eventually find it. I sincerely believe it was a fortunate accident. And because I lovingly supported my little brothers' dancing and got lost repeatedly looking for a giant piece of the alphabet, there is no Latin excitement this week.

And Take Your Baby And Lift

I dunno what you do when you have no school and only work two hours a day, but I jump around holding small children. Yes, that's right. I agreed to babysit today for a woman in my ward. I didn't know anything about her children, her house, or anything. But hey, unnecessary. So first off, this place is crazy. It's my understanding that they live in the basement of his parent's house, which is probably how all this is possible. Number one. HUGE theater room. Like, "Whoa. That's a big screen" kind of big. The popcorn machine and theater seats are on a deck type deal. Next, there is a little plastic rock steppy thing... next to a slide.... that goes down to a trampoline. Then there's the game room under the deck of the theater room, with air hockey, Foosball, and secret tunnels. Basically, twas ridiculous. I spent my time being a monster, a baby, and a carnival ride. They decided that one of the funnest things there was to do was have me hold them and jump on the trampoline. I had been silently whining to myself about how I didn't work out that morning. Psh, who needs it? I would put one down and the next one immediately starts, "My turn, my turn!" It was exhausting. Then I told them I had to take a break. The oldest asks me, "Do you have enough energy yet?" I say, "No, not yet. I just need to rest for a few more minutes." After approximately twenty seconds she's back again. "Do you have enough energy now?" "Nope. Not yet." "How about now? Now? Now? Now? When are you going to have enough energy to keep jumping?" Also, they all have pierced ears (they're three little girls). The oldest was fascinated with my earrings. She put them in and took them out several times. The right side was fine. The left was a little more difficult, but she didn't want me to put it back in. So she put it gently off to the side and told me it was there for when I needed to go home. And then we both forgot about it. So there's a rather large hoop earring in their basement by the trampoline...All in all, twas fun.

Freezing To Death In A Hot Tub

I don't know what you do when you have no school and only work two hours a day, but I freeze to death in hot tubs. It's the second time that it's happened, in fact. It looks and feels like a beautiful day. I need money. My grandmother needs her hot tub cleaned. I need my grandmother's hot tub cleaned, as I spend plenty of time in it. So. I agree to clean her hot tub. Unfortunately it has decided to rain. Yes, of course, rain. Which isn't too bad. I'm already wet from sloshing around in the almost-but-not-quite empty hot tub and from spraying filters with a very energetic hose, so no big deal. It's just sprinkling. BUT THEN. As I am working on the nitty gritty parts of hot tub cleaning, it begins to really rain. Not just the sprinkling or the "Oh look, rain!" kind of rain, but like, "I AM RAINING ON YOU!" kind of rain. So I was quickly becoming drenched, and there was no sun. So I was starting to get a little cold (plus, if you know me, I tend to be cold anyway). But why stop for rain when the entire point of what I was doing was so water involved, and I was already wet? So I didn't. So my back was completely drenched. My pants were soaking. I was wet through and through. And this, was incredibly difficult to rectify. I ended up inside shortly after this, discussing taxonomy with my grandfather. Then food and such in the kitchen. They have a large house. It is not a terribly warm, large house, and so the tendency toward coolness combined with the wet of my clothing was not a good combination. In the end, my wet clothes made it very hard to get warm. Hours after the rain soaking I was still wet and still shivering. My hands and feet felt like those of a corpse. I tried laying in the sun. I tried being inside. I tried moving. Nope. Still freezing. So then I sat in my car, which was blessedly warm. But I still I did not achieve warmth. So on round two of hot tub cleaning (after I had spent some time in my car), I was again freezing to death (shivering, I tell you! In the middle of May, in the sunshine!), as I sat in the hot tub. It is what would be called, ironic.

A Little More Latin Than Necessary (Part 2)

As yesterday was Thursday, back to Salsa Chocolate we went. The roommate (who is no longer technically my roommate), my Asian salsa friend, and my Ecuadorian friend all went this time around. My shoes were horrible (which I didn't know until too late), I was tired beyond all reason, and my little old Latino was out to get me more than last week. He told me I was beautiful. Then he says, "How was your day?" and I say, "It was good. How was yours?" and he says, "It was alright. But it's better now.  You know why, don't you?" I say, "No actually, I don't." He says, "Because I am dancing with you." Then he told me he would miss me, that he loves me, and asked me for my number, and asked me out again. He also asked the roommate out and for her number, so either it's not personal, or his aim is to somehow get to me via her... Then there was this other guy, who seemed nice, but I was so tired that I was useless. So resistance was not at its usual level, which resulted in more Latin than necessary. And even though there were a million guys and very few girls, I still only danced with the same few people. Which was vaguely frustrating. But then I was just like, "Dang man, no. I'm done." So then I went to the car. And waited for other people to come so I could leave. Because I was exhausted, my feet killed, and I didn't want to bother trying to avoid little Latinos who want my body. And that was this weeks installment of Salsa Chocolate.

Chapter 78: In Which There Are Too Many Things To Say To Put In This Title

Once upon a time. I was alive. So then I had to clean my apartment. Which was filthy. Especially the bathtub, because it was stained and horrible. So my friend who is awesome cleaned out the bathtub, but it was wet. So she took off her pants. Good plan. And then I was like, "Ha ha! This is hilarious." Then I put it in my blog. To go along with the suspiciously naked theme. Also, one time I told my roommate about my engineer friend saying, "Think digestive thoughts," and she totally heard, "Think suggestive thoughts." But don't do that. Because it's a bad plan. Also.... sometimes I intentionally am a goob, and then I decide that I'm horrible. And it's happens. Much too frequently. Then I spend many hours applying for jobs and going absolutely nuts. Which is not unusual either.  So then my brother and my pantless-bathtub-cleaning-friend make fun of me because they think I'm psycho. Which is a secret, so don't tell anyone. And I'm tired. So I should go to bed. But whine whine whine. So probably won't. Also, sometimes people snap in front of my face, and then I'm like, "Woah, someone snapped in front of my face! I should put that in my blog." And at that point, I decide that I should probably go to bed because this is deteriorating way too fast to be coherent and I refuse to punctuate for the rest of tonight's thought process so hopefully I run out of juice soon but I probably won't because when you're tired your brain goes BUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHHHHHH for a long time and then it's like well that was weird and your life continues in it's strangeness til eventually they drag you away from the computer with your eyes unblinking and your fingers twitching then they finish your blog for you because they think they're hilarious which they might be but don't tell them that because we wouldn't want it to go to their heads like helium because then they would sound funny but not as funny as that other gas that my super awesome chem teacher used that one time that made him sound like Zerg from Toy Story which made everyone incredibly happy which is pretty impressive because Monday mornings in chemistry during finals week is a pretty hard time to make people happy. I heart you. Goodnight. She's done. (<--- Random perspective shift! What can it mean? *shifty eyes*)



No really, she's done now.