For the last week or so I have had a mad itch to clean something, to organize something, to glue something to another something in a sorry attempt at an art project. I feel this compelling need to do or create something that will somehow dramatically increase the organizational and aesthetic quality of a space. A need. Unfortunately, everything I can think of dramatically reorganizing is in my apartment where I will only be for another two months. Thus it seems useless to take on a project there--to lose all of the benefit in two months?! I can't even deep clean anything because I am going out of town for a week and can't stand the thought of scrubbing on my knees only to leave it for my roommates to enjoy and soil. So you can see that I have a problem here.
Now I have tried to fix this. I have reorganized all of the drawers at work, I bought a little tiny adorable day planner to micro-organize my day in, I've been making my bed every morning, I even bought a new dress today--which usually solves everything. But to no avail, I itch on. Raar.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
Angels Among Us
(Disclaimer: This post is in no way intended to be sacrilegious and should be read with the knowledge that its author intends no measure of seriousness, only a little light-hearted humor)
Remember that talk by Elder Holland from October Conference about angels surrounding us? (If you're not a member of the LDS church, don't be offended, just play along--the majority of the people that read this--at least those who comment, are). Well, he talks about the people around us being angels, and let me just tell you, I just met one.
I am at work right now, on my usual Wednesday night shift (otherwise known as the longest shift of all time). Twenty minutes ago, about five hours in to the shift of death, feeling very bored of my book and otherwise quite restless, an angel arrived. I looked up from the desk to see a twelve pack of Diet Coke floating by in front of me. Ok, there was a girl carrying it but I didn't really see her. Turning to my coworker I said something like "Oh man, now I want Diet Coke". Apparently the girl heard me and she turned excitedly (anyone with that much caffeine does everything excitedly) and asked if I wanted one. I laughed a little and shrugged it off but she insisted and before I knew it there was a beautiful, shiny can of Diet Coke in my bored, restless hand. It was. . . a miracle.
In other news, on my way home from work I ran into a raccoon. Not a joke. It arched it's back and ran away. Coincidence?
Remember that talk by Elder Holland from October Conference about angels surrounding us? (If you're not a member of the LDS church, don't be offended, just play along--the majority of the people that read this--at least those who comment, are). Well, he talks about the people around us being angels, and let me just tell you, I just met one.
I am at work right now, on my usual Wednesday night shift (otherwise known as the longest shift of all time). Twenty minutes ago, about five hours in to the shift of death, feeling very bored of my book and otherwise quite restless, an angel arrived. I looked up from the desk to see a twelve pack of Diet Coke floating by in front of me. Ok, there was a girl carrying it but I didn't really see her. Turning to my coworker I said something like "Oh man, now I want Diet Coke". Apparently the girl heard me and she turned excitedly (anyone with that much caffeine does everything excitedly) and asked if I wanted one. I laughed a little and shrugged it off but she insisted and before I knew it there was a beautiful, shiny can of Diet Coke in my bored, restless hand. It was. . . a miracle.
In other news, on my way home from work I ran into a raccoon. Not a joke. It arched it's back and ran away. Coincidence?
Friday, May 15, 2009
An Ode
To Interlibrary Loan:
Because you give me any book
My heart could dare desire
Because you don't ask why my life
Would one such book require
Because my every whim you grant
And always very quick
I needn't even leave my chair
It's processed with one click
Because you give me access free
To every subject matter
I write to you this ode of praise
To thank and dote and flatter
I want the world to know the joy
You've brought into my life
That maybe they will seek your aid
Whilst in literary strife
Monday, May 11, 2009
Best Week Ever 5/4 - 5/9
You may or may not have had a VH1 obsession at some point in your life. You may have even watched it when it still had something to do with music, or you may be one of those who are now shamefully remembering the entire day you wasted watching a marathon of America's Next Top Model. You may be proudly relating to yourself the fact that you have never watched VH1 or maybe that you don't even know what VH1 is. For all of those may-nots, the last I checked (which might have been 11th grade), they played a show every week called Best Week Ever where comedians and other famous-for-no-reason-personalities commentated on the week's events, counting down the best things about it. Anyway, I have decided to do this on my blog (except of course, I am not a comedian, nor am I famous, nor do I intend to comment on anything significant to anyone else). This is a good idea for several reasons: first, it will give me an excuse to blog about nothing and post ridiculous pictures; second, it will help me to appreciate things (this idea must have originated in a relief society lesson somewhere); and third, I will update my bloggedy blog more frequently. So, without further adieu and unsolicited advertising:
10. I got into both of the classes that I want to take Fall semester which were previously full. This means there will be no need to endlessly harass the professors of said classes until they let me in--although I had some solid strategic planning underway. Unfortunately, I failed to realize that one of them conflicted with a class I was already registered for. . . woops. I am now considering staying in both classes and running between them everyday pretending that I have some sort of bladder problem (which some would argue is true).
9. I discovered a phenomenal antique store in Salt Lake where I bought some phenomenal jewelry and had exciting conversation with a phenomenal old woman who was buying phenomenal old barbies from a phenomenally shady looking man.
8. I chopped my hair off. Chopped it right off.
7. While chopping my hair off I finally found the perfect hair stylist. For years I have been fantasizing about having a stylist that always gave me a good cut and was somehow not ridiculously over priced and was also probably gay. Instead I always ended up at great clips or getting my hair butchered by a strange Hispanic man who kept cutting presumably because he so enjoyed chatting in Spanish resulting in the loss of much more hair than I had intended. But I have found her, and she is wonderful. But not gay (that I know of).
6. Sunshine
5. I experienced the joy that is Banana Cream Cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory, courtesy of my little brother Sam.
4. Cinco de Mayo party = huge success. Viva La Mexico!
3. I finally decided on a topic for my thesis and it is officially underway! I'm writing on Derek Walcott's epic poem Omeros and will probably be in St. Lucia for a week in July doing research.
2. I got to hang out with Ms. Alysha Bruce (see photo) for the first time in a long time and it was wonderful.
1. Christian made me breakfast and dinner yesterday for "Future Mother's Day" and it was delicious. And he wore my ruffle-y apron.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
da DUM da DUM
As a prerequisite to this post it is necessary to review the previous posting entitled "Urban Jungle."
Today I walked out of my new apartment and sitting on my doormat was a raccoon. Granted it was a dog toy with a bell inside, about the size of my forearm and probably belongs to the therapy dog that just moved in next door, but still. They are following me. WHOA.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Sustenance, Shelter, Sleep
I can't decide whether to make this first line a reference to the Jungle Book and "bear necessities" or something much more sophisticated like Thoreau's outline of our basic needs. Then again, The Jungle Book was based on Kipling, but I don't think there were any singing bears in the book. Probably I would choose the singing bear anyway. I'm not feeling very sophisticated.
Sustenance
I can't actually remember the last time I went to the grocery store, which probably means it was a really long time ago. During finals week--and ok, the two weeks preceding--my roommates and I collectively abandoned the kitchen. No one felt they had the time or energy to cook or clean and so it became a quarantined room that you avoided entering at all costs because the sink was full, the trash overflowing, and the smell permeating. Plus we had to be out in a couple of weeks anyway which would require a thorough cleaning so why bother, right? (apparently). At some point I had to stop drinking water at home because I couldn't fit my Brita pitcher under the faucet to fill it up. Also there has been no time for grocery stores and I wanted to avoid moving one ounce more than absolutely necessary. Now finals are over and I am finally in my new apartment and there has still not been any time for grocery stores. Basically I have eaten out more in the last month than probably in my entire life combined. I have had sandwiches from every place imaginable: Subway, Blimpie, Gandolfo's, Einstein's, Great Harvest, and even a vending machine once. I did eat at home this morning, I found some oatmeal in the bottom of one of my boxes. Currently I am at work drinking an orange soda. I don't think I have ever bought an orange soda in my life. It may in fact be the most artificial liquid on the planet. But after ten minutes of staring blankly at the bleak options in the vending machine, I had a sudden flashback to Kenan and Kel and somehow decided to buy an orange soda.
Shelter
On Wednesday night I finished my finals, and my best friend The Branbury decided to kick me out of my apartment at noon the next day. Lovely. Consequently I spent all of Wednesday night and Thursday morning frantically shoving things into boxes and scrubbing mysterious marks from walls in preparation for our "white glove cleaning check". When the RA's finally showed up it turned out to be more of a cleaning glance, which was a little frustrating since I had spent so long cleaning, but at least they didn't notice the holes in the walls where the mirror hung or the marks on the cabinets from the tape that held pictures up. Thanks to Christian and friends I was able to get my masses of possessions up the three flights of stairs at my new apartment, where I then did the best I could to make it look that I had not in fact just transferred ten million (slight exaggeration) boxes into the living room so that Missy could get passed off for moving out--I'm not technically allowed to move in for another week. My other two roommates are out of town until some unknown date so currently it's just me and my lovely boxes which I have not had one second to unpack. I've found if I can close my eyes fast enough when going to bed I can relax enough to sleep without thinking about the boxes. By all current estimations I will have time for those on Tuesday. There are also about 15 lamps to keep me company and one mysterious ottoman. The mystery remains as to how they all came to reside in the same apartment.
Sleep
I also haven't really slept in awhile. I mean, I've slept, just not for more than four to six hours at a time. Although last night I did get a rousing eight hours. Still, I think I'm due for a good long marathon of slumber. Maybe once the boxes stop talking to me in my sleep.
I forgot one last S. . . . .
Sustenance
I can't actually remember the last time I went to the grocery store, which probably means it was a really long time ago. During finals week--and ok, the two weeks preceding--my roommates and I collectively abandoned the kitchen. No one felt they had the time or energy to cook or clean and so it became a quarantined room that you avoided entering at all costs because the sink was full, the trash overflowing, and the smell permeating. Plus we had to be out in a couple of weeks anyway which would require a thorough cleaning so why bother, right? (apparently). At some point I had to stop drinking water at home because I couldn't fit my Brita pitcher under the faucet to fill it up. Also there has been no time for grocery stores and I wanted to avoid moving one ounce more than absolutely necessary. Now finals are over and I am finally in my new apartment and there has still not been any time for grocery stores. Basically I have eaten out more in the last month than probably in my entire life combined. I have had sandwiches from every place imaginable: Subway, Blimpie, Gandolfo's, Einstein's, Great Harvest, and even a vending machine once. I did eat at home this morning, I found some oatmeal in the bottom of one of my boxes. Currently I am at work drinking an orange soda. I don't think I have ever bought an orange soda in my life. It may in fact be the most artificial liquid on the planet. But after ten minutes of staring blankly at the bleak options in the vending machine, I had a sudden flashback to Kenan and Kel and somehow decided to buy an orange soda.
Shelter
On Wednesday night I finished my finals, and my best friend The Branbury decided to kick me out of my apartment at noon the next day. Lovely. Consequently I spent all of Wednesday night and Thursday morning frantically shoving things into boxes and scrubbing mysterious marks from walls in preparation for our "white glove cleaning check". When the RA's finally showed up it turned out to be more of a cleaning glance, which was a little frustrating since I had spent so long cleaning, but at least they didn't notice the holes in the walls where the mirror hung or the marks on the cabinets from the tape that held pictures up. Thanks to Christian and friends I was able to get my masses of possessions up the three flights of stairs at my new apartment, where I then did the best I could to make it look that I had not in fact just transferred ten million (slight exaggeration) boxes into the living room so that Missy could get passed off for moving out--I'm not technically allowed to move in for another week. My other two roommates are out of town until some unknown date so currently it's just me and my lovely boxes which I have not had one second to unpack. I've found if I can close my eyes fast enough when going to bed I can relax enough to sleep without thinking about the boxes. By all current estimations I will have time for those on Tuesday. There are also about 15 lamps to keep me company and one mysterious ottoman. The mystery remains as to how they all came to reside in the same apartment.
Sleep
I also haven't really slept in awhile. I mean, I've slept, just not for more than four to six hours at a time. Although last night I did get a rousing eight hours. Still, I think I'm due for a good long marathon of slumber. Maybe once the boxes stop talking to me in my sleep.
I forgot one last S. . . . .
SPRING!!!
Glory glory glory hallelujah.
Saturday, April 18, 2009
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