Sunday, September 30, 2007

a moment of complaint

I need a life. It's so frustrating to be out of the Provo world where making friends is as easy as walking next door or across the way. I suppose that's what you get when you go from a ward of 200 active members to one of roundabout 40. It's not that I don't like it; it's just that it's a lot harder to make friends here. The ones I know already are great, and I'm getting to know others, but either way I'm used to going out or at least chilling for awhile every night. People just don't do that here. You have to drive to get anywhere, and people just don't. Well, not like in a college town where you just have to walk ten feet. Obviously it will be different, but I've been here a month and it's starting to get tiring, that's all. It's just a lot more work to make friends here. I feel like a stalker for hanging out with people more than once a week. Or once a week, as opposed to less than that. It's ridiculous.

Sorry for the least eloquent post ever.

Sunday, September 23, 2007

priorities

It's kind of a funny experience to be interested in someone for awhile, then check their Facebook profile and sort of change your mind based on their music and movie preferences.

a sunday drive

Today I coasted almost the entire length of my neighborhood (I swear it must be on a northward incline, I don't know if it would work the other direction - I stayed at a pretty level 12 mph) while listening to instrumental church music. I pretended I was driving a horse-and-buggy. It was awesome.

Saturday, September 22, 2007

a case of mistaken identity (zero calories)

Today I got mistaken first for event staff and then for a model.

In all actuality I was just a temp worker.

"Treat a man as he is and he will remain as he is. Treat a man as he can and should be, and he will become as he can and should be." --Goethe

(heheh)

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

there will be snacks, there will

My dad often tells a bedtime story to all the kids in my house. He asks what the story should be about, and someone chooses something (usually an inanimate object or animal), and he makes up a story around that. On a rare occasion such as tonight, I got to choose the thing. I have this kelly green toy cabinet that I used to play with growing up, so that was the thing. Here was the story.

--
Once upon a time, there was a cupboard. It was made of very rare, very precious wood, but the wood wasn't very pretty, so it was painted green.

One day, the family that owned it was thinking about just getting rid of it, since it was old and kind of beat up, and as they were moving it around it got knocked down the stairs. "Oh, well," they thought, but then the cupboard did something very strange. It sort of bounced down, and when they went to look at it, there was not a scratch on it. Again as they were moving it around, something lit on fire near it, and it burned the paint a little, but not the wood. The burn just sort of wiped off.

The family decided to keep it. One of the kids in the family started to put a book in the cupboard - a book that was obviously too big for it - but surprise! it fit perfectly. Everyone wondered a little about the cupboard.

One day lots of things went wrong at once. The house started to flood, and as the water rose, the little boy went to hide in the cupboard. He fit right in! He called to the others and they all got in the cupboard and it began to float like a little boat. They were just about to float through the window when some lightning lit their house on fire, and all the trees around the house - well - the parts that weren't under water.

The little boy had an idea. "Why don't we just close the doors?" he said, and they did. They rode the little cupboard through the fire and didn't feel too hot inside, or too cold from the water, and there was a surprising amount of room inside to move around. And they had games, and toys. And snacks.

--"What kind of snacks?" asked my 15-year-old sister.
--"Pringles," I said.
--"Chips. And cake," said Dad.

Then, they landed on a desert island. I mean, a tropical island, with lots of tourists. They played and had a good time before ... uh, they had to go back and rebuild their house. And that's the end for tonight.

----

My favorite part is trying to guess which parts are just extended so my dad can figure out the next plot point, and watching where he changes the storyline so that the thing can last five minutes. My thought for tonight is that a desert island would have taken more work to make interesting and then get them off, so since it's a story, let's just make it a party island and then they leave ... hahahah.

Hooray for stories:)

Saturday, September 15, 2007

live in the Present

You know, sadly enough one of the things I miss most about Provo is the movies. (Obviously the people are a big deal. Sue me. I also miss the movies.)

It's kind of a struggle. I got some good advice the other day, from a friend who didn't even know I was struggling (I don't think). It was pretty simple, really: "I know you miss the fun times here in Provo, but try not to think about it too much."

(Three posts in one hour! OK, come on, kids. Who feels blessed? Abused? Oblivious?)

internationalism

One thing, however. Friday was rather international for me. I pasted Albanian, Arabic and Bosnian translations of a driver's license tests into the system that would administer them, while listening to Gogol Bordello (and the Everything is Illuminated soundtrack), The Decemberists, the Arctic Monkies, Joanna Newsom, Eisley, Mika, The Fratelli's, Jack Savoretti, The Lovemakers and Regina Spektor.

The time I probably liked the best was inputting the Arabic translations while listening to Ukrainian folk music.

By the way, did you know that "Provo" means "where" in Albanian? Or, at least, that was my best guess ...

much to say

It seems these days as though I have more to say than other times, but I'm not around here often enough to write anything much down. I've got a new goal to learn how to write paper notes. haha. Whenever I actually sit down and have a minute, I have nothing profound to say.

Wednesday, September 5, 2007

best of

I was going through a lot of my old notes for past classes the other day, and like many people, I like to write down funny things the professor says. This post will amuse most anyone, I think, but particularly those who have ever taken a class from Professor John Talbot. Sunnysnows, Luma Solem -- I believe you two will take particular enjoyment from this post.

Also, the original post was a lot longer. I tried to trim.

---

"All kinds of people gave me all sorts of advice, most of which I thought was very stupid. I don't hate any of them - well, I hate two of them, but I hated them before."

"What about forest fires, that afflict forests every year? I'm talking about the ones started by lightning, not the ones started by Boy Scouts."

"I'm from Salt Lake."-*Sam
"Salt Lake ... City? ... Utah?"-Prof. Talbot
"It's a little town, about 45 minutes north of here. In Utah." -*Sam
"Don't play games with me, I know where Salt Lake is."-Prof. Talbot

"I
know what it's like to feel like Achilles because I'm so right so much of the time."

"Just like another name for Salt Lake is 'slick,' and another name for Provo ... I guess there is no other name for Provo."

"I like to give instructions in negative form - they tell you not to, they want you to be uplifting and all that, but a negative implies a positive, does it not?"

"I'm always just sort of flouncing around the room."

"What I need to do is hang out with a BYU student for a day, because I have no idea what your lives are like."
(student begins to volunteer ... probably the aforementioned *Sam.)
"Not you."

(to a football player) "You've done that, haven't you? Hit someone so hard their helmet falls off? Well, I would encourage you to do so."

"Last night I was reading --"-a student
"I don't care what you've been reading, we're not here for learning."-Prof. Talbot

"Just think of all the ways your parents messed you up. And then think of all the ways you're preparing to mess up
your kids."

"[The library auditorium] is like being in the womb of nature."

"The best way to get this poetry off your back is to entomb them in the formaldehyde of publication, especially a publication that no one reads."

"There are several Homeric references. You might catch them - I doubt it, you'll be sleeping."

"In fact, I encourage you to sleep. That is how I will recognize you. I'm not sure I know what you look like awake."

"He was very drama-ish. Kind of mincy and swooshing."

"Flowerings of art ... Michaelangelo, Rafael and various other Ninja Turtles."

"I always feel like we could sum up this philosophy stuff in a few minutes. Oyyy. Let's move on."

"Hey, *Sam. Interestingly enough, we're talking about time, debating its existence."-Prof. Talbot
"So I might not be late?"-*Sam
"Yes, I was going to say maybe you should capitalize on this to argue the relevance of your punctuality."-Prof. Talbot

"When in doubt, draw Italy. There's Rome ... despite its name, it tends to stay put."

"Naysayers like Nelson Dunford always say, always debunking and bringing down ideas, very cynical, a very
black turtleneck sort of attitude."

"You managed to get born, *Scott. Not that I'm saying I regret that, not that I'm emphasizing that."

"I have an idea. Tonight, let's dress up like salmon and go up the down escalator."

"I would like to make a western [movie] ... 'Look out! Native Americans!'"

"I don't see how what he's saying is completely bad."-*Kara
"That's because you are a wicked person."-Prof. Talbot

"Just to keep up the high scriptural standard you've set - at the last scenes of
The Sound of Music, she says ..."

*Names have been changed, for no apparent reason.
I live in a freaking rainforest.

And if you thought moving in Utah was bad, try moving in a rainforest.