Thursday, February 28, 2008

Some Days Are Good For No Particular Reason

Today I got a free shirt that fits!!!! How often does that happen? Pretty much never. And it's pretty decent looking too. So why today? Why was today good? The weather was amazing. That always helps, but I've also been pretty grouchy on days that are gorgeous. Maybe it's because I feel like I am in control of my life these days...or maybe it's because I don't have any midterms this week... Whatever the reason, I had a great day today. Okay, I admit it, I do know one reason why today was monumental: I got a laptop!!! WOOT WOOT thank you Dad. So it's not exactly fact it's Dad's old computer (and when I say old I mean 2000ish), but we'll just call it my nueva computadora as opposed to my computadora nueva. :) This laptop is very special. He likes to type a letter twice when I only push the key once, and can't seem to decide whether to erase one or two letters when I press Backspace. So please pardon the inevitable spelling errors. He likes to think a long time about the words I type before he produces them on the screen, so this blog is actually taking me the better part of an hour to write. His down arrow and the delete keys don't work, but we all have flaws, right?

Suffice it to say, we're practically best friends already. I mean, how could we not be, seeing how I can actually blog from my room now! And post after midnight! (which is when the library closes) All he needs now is a name...for which I think I will ask the audience. I would be much obliged if you would vote on his name on the poll.
If you think I should name him a different name than the options posted, please leave me the suggestion in a comment. (And please remember that voting more than once a day is strictly prohibited. That means you, Becca.)

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

the P-word

(click to enlarge)

Look familiar to anyone? I think this chart is actually a biography of my life.

Procrastination is my sin
It brings me much great sorrow.
Alas! I must o'ercome it now!
(I think I'll start tomorrow . . .)

Any takers to write my research paper for me? No? I didn't think so. Maybe I'll go check my email. And I better see if anyone's updated their blog recently. And if I had a Facebook, I'd check that, too.

And, since Rich doesn't have a blog he deserves to be represented, too:

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

flip flops and shopping woes

Wasn't it a beautiful day today? If I had a camera I would have taken a picture. But, alas, from the severe lack of photographs on my blog, you probably have realized I do not own a digital camera. So here is a public apology to Heather and all the other picture lovers out there: my blog is just going to be a lot of boring words until I have a job and can pay for my own camera. Anyway, back to the beautiful day today. Although, now that I think about it, it was kind of wet, the snow is half-melted and muddy, and the trees are all bare and kind of ugly. But who cares? Spring is on its way. That is a beautiful thought indeed, if it only means one thing: flip flop season is back.

I own approximately eleven pairs of flip flops, nine of which are from Old Navy. And this total isn't counting the sandals and other slip-on shoes (such as crocs) that I also love wearing. Good thing those Old Navy flip flops are relatively cheap, because otherwise I might need to get a summer job just to pay for them! In fact, my shoes wardrobe sports flip flops in every single color of the rainbow (including three colors of blue as well as brown and black and pink and red and yellow and orange--go THS) except white, purple, and green. "Does she really need all those colored pieces of foam?" you may be thinking. Well, need is a relative term. I have to walk around in something, I might as well have it be colorful. And soft. And cheap. If those reasons don't cut it for you, let's just say that it's fun to have shoes that match your outfit, okay?

Shopping trips. Growing up, they were fairly few and far between, mostly because Mom doesn't like shopping and has taught us to be frugal and save our money. However, if you go shopping with Mom, she'll pay half, and that bonus makes the wait until she wants to take you shopping definitely worth it. Then again, at times I desperately needed clothes; I distinctly remember a time during my growth spurt when I didn't have even one pair of jeans that didn't look like capris on my gangly, out-of-place legs. For me, clothes shopping quickly evolved into one of the top five detestable activities, plopped in there with cleaning the toilet and washing the front window.

It seems I was somewhat of an anomaly in this sense. Most teenage girls absolutely love shopping. I think this may be from a combination of reasons:

1. Their parents pay
2. Stylish "cool" clothes = sociality and popularity
3. Competition: Jessica and Brittany and Ashley have that shirt from American Eagle, so I need it too

The reasons I didn't (and don't) enjoy shopping:

1. I paid half of everything I bought
2. I wasn't popular, or even on the track to becoming such, so why should I try to pretend I was?
3. Why would I want to wear the same shirt or pair of shoes as another girl? That's just weird. [This mentality continues today. A journal entry from last August reads: "Today I saw an old lady (okay, about 50) wearing the same shirt as me. Depressing. :( " And can you blame me?]
4. The pants are never long enough, the shirts are never long enough, the long sleeves are never long enough, the necks are always too low, the skirts are always too tight or too short, and most of the styles these days are pretty much the most hideous things I have ever seen.

There's another reason why I hate shopping. If you know me at all, you have probably met my guilt complex (reason #5). I don't know how you could miss it. This guilt complex sometimes takes control, and when I spend lots of money on clothes that aren't absolutely completely totally necessary, it kicks into high gear. Even with my parents paying half on pretty much all of my clothing purchases, I couldn't bring myself to buy stuff I probably should have. Luckily all was not lost because I have five older sisters to give me fashion advice; I daresay Heather and I probably were more fashion-conscious at an earlier age than some of my elder sisters...and if you doubt it I'll show you some of my family albums to prove it.

Anyway, I hated (and still hate) going shopping and getting really depressed because I couldn't find anything that fit. Pants shopping is probably one of my least favorite past times....ever. That is, next to swimsuit shopping. Shopping for dresses isn't much better (when it's supposed to be mid-calf it's knee-length, etc.), and the sleeves on coats are guaranteed to be too short. Thus, it is only rational that I am always drawn to the shoe racks, much like Janel to chocolate cake. :) Shoes are so easy to fit! Since I don't have much wrong with my feet (i.e. no abnormal arch like Mom or bunion like Dad or extra-long second toe like Janel), it's pretty darn easy to find shoes that fit. It's also very nice that my feet are the size of most other women: size 8. Unfortunately, all this means is more shoes call my name in the store...

I have gotten some pretty sweet deals on shoes, if on nothing else. One time I bought two pairs of practically new shoes at a yard sale for one dollar each. I got a pair of Doc Martin sandals at D.I. for a buck. My sparkly "princess shoes" which I wore to nearly every formal dance (thanks to the lack of any sort of heel whatsoever) were six bucks at Claire's. [Quick little aside: Have you ever tried to buy a pair of formal shoes without a heel? They pretty don't exist. Believe me. Except at Claire's.] And my favorite pair of flip flops was originally seventeen dollars at Big 5, but I noticed a little tear in one of the straps and they gave them to me for three bucks.

I suppose I truly am Aunt Julie's niece and Dad's daughter: I love getting a bargain (which is why I detest the Creamery so much). And although I may have a few more shoes than is absolutely necessary, I think as long as I stick with the buy-it-only-if-it's-a-bargain mentality, my guilt complex will be satisfied, I won't have to worry about what all the money could have done to help some starving woman and her children in some third-world country, and I won't get too out of control. Or at least we can always hope so.

Saturday, February 09, 2008

Some days I feel like Peter

"We must have faith in ourselves, faith in the ability of our Heavenly Father to bless us and to guide us in our endeavors."

Thomas S. Monson (Ensign 11/07)

Friday, February 08, 2008


Morbid, monstrously matted hair
Ugliest haircut on the planet
(severe) Lack of good taste
Embarrassing and encroaching
Trying to be cool but failing miserably
Sick, sick, sick, should be banned

Gag me now. I thought mullets were against the honor code? But no. Today when I was in the library, trying to read my scriptures, and I happened to glance at the guy across from me and nearly puked. Gag. He was sporting the M-word. How am I supposed to concentrate, let alone feel the Spirit, with THAT staring me in the face? And why the heck would you want to look like that? Beats me.

And, just to prove that mullets are indeed possible on girls, please note the following picture.


Tuesday, February 05, 2008


Everything at the Creamery is two and a half bucks, I swear. Okay, yogurt is fifty-three cents (when it's on sale) and tomato sauce is twenty-nine cents a can, but just about everything else hovers permanently around that somehow magical price of $2.50.

You don't believe me? Let me prove it.

Yesterday I went shopping at the beloved Creamery on Ninth--also known as BYU's sneaky way of stealing a lot of money from freshman by forcing them to buy a meal plan. Anyway, there are a few reasons I don't like shopping. First of all, I only shop at the Creamery. (You're probably thinking: "Duh, shop somewhere else, you big whiner." Please, keep reading.) Of course, I could drive to Macey's or some other grocery store with cheaper food--after all, that's how my five older sisters made it through freshman year just fine--but I have to spend my meal plan money somewhere, and I'd rather get fruits and veggies from the Creamery than fast food from the Cougareat. I intensely dislike supporting the Creamery when it's cheating me out of a lot of money--thirty bucks a week, to be exact--in the form of a so-called "helpful" meal plan. Thirty bucks on groceries. One of the "aims of BYU" certainly isn't to teach its students thriftiness, that's for sure. Rather, I think the underlying message BYU Management is sending is, "We want money. When we get the poor little freshmen addicted to convenience (aka the Creamery), we'll make bank. And that's what we want--money. Money. Good thing we have a monopoly, because I'm hungry for the dough. Bring it on." Thus we see the evil hand of monopoly conveniently stocking their entire shelves with name-brand items, cranking up the prices of nearly every item in the store (with the possible exception of milk and bananas). Oh, and on a personal note, the baskets at the Creamery make my hands reek like old, nasty metal. It's bad enough to have to walk out thirty bucks poorer, but finding your hands smell metallic as well? Come on. Have the decency to care just the tiniest bit about teenagers who have scrimped and saved through minimum-wage-paying summer jobs to experience dorm life their freshman year at college. Then again, I don't think that word--care--is in their vocabulary.
The only plus about shopping at the Creamery is that I don't have to pay tax. Whoopdeedoo.

But I digress. Back to my shopping trip yesterday. Since I eat a lot of PB&J, I need to re-stock on both of those. I find them on the shelf. The price of peanut butter: $2.65. I move over to the jam: $2.69. After loading tomato sauce and yogurt into my basket, I go to the dairy aisle. One gallon of skim milk: $2.39 (a surprisingly good deal and a rare find amidst the surrounding jacked-up priced items). Grabbing a jug, I glance at my shopping list (Ryan, please take note) and head over to the cereal. Last week I finally finished the last of my box of Cranberry Almond Crunch which Janel and Mark gave me for my birthday; I've been rationing that little piece of heaven very carefully to make it last as long as possible. Anyway, I am pleasantly surprised to discover that Life is on sale. Only since I moved out have I realized how pricy breakfast cereal can be. I grab a box of Cinnamon Life and look at the price: $2.49. What is it with this store? Sheesh! Why is two-fifty the magic number? Oh, wait, I know why. Two-fifty is the Creamery's favorite number because that's how much they can squeeze out of everyone without causing a rebellion (i.e. three bucks is much too much to pay for jam or peanut butter, but $2.50? Not too bad. In fact, it's a pretty good price, right? Actually, it's probably a great deal! I should get all the peanut butter for my food storage right now!...right.). In fact, this number haunts me outside of the Creamery, too! Today I was filling up beloved Baby Blue with gas. As I went to reset the tripometer, I looked at the dials to see how many miles I had driven on this tank. You'll never guess: 259.9 miles. I couldn't believe my eyes for a sec. What are the chances? ...or maybe it's not so coincidental as I think it is... Kind of creepy, I know. But whatever it is, I can't seem to get away from this two-fifty number, and it's starting to weird me out.

Anyway, back to the Creamery. I remember I need to buy syrup since I don't have any (and realize that's why I only eat cereal and toast for breakfast everyday--because who wants to eat pancakes or waffles plain?). Syrup: (on sale) $2.29 (originally $2.49). That's it. I am not spending ten bucks on four freaking things at two-fifty each! And BYU is supposed to be the Lord's university... Sometimes it seems more like the university of greedy, monopolizing policy-makers.

Maybe I'll forget the whole speech pathologist thing and go into business or economics. Then I can show BYU up and take out their precious Creamery. Better yet, I'll just go into law and sue them for stealing from freshmen. Their bank account is certainly big enough.