His name Is robert

He is The-man-I-almost-married.

Let me tell you a story:

Well over a year ago, I went to a service project with my friend Jenny. It was a Saturday morning and there was the promise of free breakfast if we cleaned a day care center with about 20 other young adults.

Jenny was a little bit obsessed with marriage. It's Utah Valley. You get people like that here.

During this service project, she told me that we were going to find my future husband that day. She immediately began scoping out prospects. She narrowed in on a fairly attractive young man - dark hair, strong jaw, kind eyes with a hidden laugh - and started scheming. She even managed to get us to speak to each other during the cleaning spree.

I asked him for the vacuum cleaner when he was done with it. He misheard me and showed up without the vacuum. I asked him to go back and get it.

Oh, I was such a flirt, I know.

Afterwards we all signed a huge poster with a description of how we contributed to the cleaning project next to our names. After he signed, Jenny inconspicuously sauntered over to see what his name was. That's how I know his name is Robert.

He misspelled "vacuum" and "cupboards."

I wasn't sure if I was comfortable with letting good looks outweigh a somewhat troubling spelling defect. ("cupboard" is a compound word - how do you not know that? that's third grade, man. how did that not make a lasting impression on your young and malleable brain?)

The plan was to find a way to get Robert and I together, even though we had barely spoken to one another and we had no way of contacting him. We didn't even have enough information about him to tentatively facebook-stalk him.

I decided to leave it to Jenny. I had other things to think about that night.

That night was my first date with My-now-husband.

So in a way, Jenny was right. I met my Mr. Right that day...just not at the service project.

I rarely see Robert now and we've never spoken since that day. I happened to see him today. He was singing in a choir (really amazing, beautiful choir. I got goosebumps. they sounded gorgeous) and I realized how bizarre it would be if he knew that I still think of him as The-man-I-almost-married.

That title is not even close to being accurate. We were nowhere close to being married. He has no idea what my name is or that my friend had developed an elaborate romantic scheme around him.
But the title makes me chuckle. The memory is more about Jenny, really, than it ever was about Robert.

It made me wonder, though, how many of us attach memories and stories to people who don't know us?
It's nearly unsettling when you think about all the unreciprocated thoughts bouncing between anonymous people in a crowd.
We don't really know each other at all. We know quite a bit more than we let on.

Pleasantly surprising Bliss

Tell me you are just as in love with this song as I am:

Jason Feddy : Connected

I can't get enough of this song. His voice, his accent, his lyrics...I'm so love. How have I never heard of Jason Feddy before today?

The link will take you to youtube, but don't bother watching the video. It's just one of those slideshows that play over and over (except there are only two photos...), but it was the best version of the song I could find.

Enjoy.

have I Already used This title?

I'm going to watch corny black-and-white Halloween movies with my husband and his brother tonight. It's going to be great. We're going to mock them and laugh and eat candy and laugh followed by more mocking and more laughter...well, I think you get the point. It promises to be a night full of sarcasm, sugar, and laughter.

(at least, that's what I'm hoping for. reality so rarely conforms to my expectations - even if reality only closely mimics my expectations for tonight, I'll be satisfied.)

Due to some work schedule conflicts and a backwards sleep cycle, we will be starting our corny marathon at about 12:00.

Midnight.

Tonight.

What? This doesn't strike you as a good idea?

Yeah, me neither. But it's a weekend - worst case scenario: I sleep all day tomorrow. Big deal. I didn't have much else scheduled for tomorrow anyway.

Except for a monkey-boatload of homework that I was supposed to do tonight but it's taking longer than expected and I might not be able to finish by the due date next week but I'M TRYING NOT TO THINK ABOUT IT BECAUSE IT'S THE WEEKEND AND I NEED TO RELAX!!

Breathe. Breathe.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to paint like a crazy woman for the next two hours until the party arrives.

You have a great night.

And Happy Halloween.

Toodles.

mystery Solved

My blog had 29 views yesterday. I was pretty excited when I saw this (cuz my average floats somewhere around one view per day to about zero views per day...yeah) until I realized that all 29 of them were me.

Heh.

I went through the blog last night, reading all of my random posts from the last year. It was a lot like reading through a journal, except it was quicker and infinitely more amusing.

I don't know if you know this, but I'm kinda funny. I made myself laugh right out loud with this post. True story.

"Inner-debate"...heh heh...

Too bad I'm not that funny all the time. I wonder if I'm still that funny at all.

My sense of humor feels malnourished. Perhaps apathy is to blame. Perhaps my semi-perfectionist nature is to blame. Perhaps school is to blame.

Or maybe it's skinny people.

Yes, I'm sure I'm not funny anymore because of skinny people.

In other news, I wish I spoke with more eloquence.

Words I Think I Should Use More:

• "immaculate"
• "tomfoolery"
• "prolific"
• "innocuous"
• "rue"

I will try to use all five, out loud and in conversation, before the day is out.

Oh I'm a dork.

New favorite student quote of the semester: "Eek! I lost my ear!"

feel Free To skip this Post

I haven't felt well for the past couple of days. I'm not sure what the problem is. It's mostly my stomach, some nausea, but it's not a bug or virus...I won't go into too many details because it's
(constipated!!)
personal. Very personal. Moving on...
(at least it's not "morning sickness")

I've also felt depressed. Am I depressed because I don't physically feel well, or do I not physically feel well because I'm depressed?

Does it matter?

I'm bitter towards skinny people.
How dare you make me feel guilty for snarfing an entire bag of chocolate covered peanuts in one sitting. Don't you judge me!
I'll just stare at them until they feel guilty for not eating more than one stale cracker within the last three days.

Stupid skinny people.

Today is the one-year mark of this blog. I really didn't think anyone would be interested in reading my pointless ramble, yet here we are, a year later, with 7 followers. (that sounded so occult-ish, didn't it? "followers") That means there are 3 people who actually read the blog. How exciting!

Blogger's HTML is being temperamental again. Baffling. There's no logical reason for it to behave this way.

What am I writing about? It's so aimless and spasmodic. Kind of like my entire Wednesday has been. (penguins!) A lot like my whole week has been.

What were we saying?

My thoughts no longer make sense. (did they ever?) I'm going to get myself some soup, curl up in bed with a good book (The Book Thief, if you haven't read it, then you need to. there's no other book quite like it) and actively give no thought to school, homework, or today's caloric intake.

second Thoughts...we All Have 'em

I'm good at math. I really am. Not a lot of people are, so I do take some pride in the fact.

I think I could be good at science. I got the highest marks of my classes on most, if not all, of my tests in Biology, Astronomy, and Chemistry. Intro classes, sure, but a lot of it made sense and I enjoyed studying those subjects.

I could've qualified for grants and scholarships as a woman in a predominantly male field of either math or science, or both.

Instead I'm in my kitchen at 11:00 at night trying to stick leaves to a giant piece of paper with rubber cement.

Did you catch that? Leaves - as in, from various trees around town. On a giant piece of paper - the thing takes up my whole kitchen table. Rubber cement - 'nuff said.

Am I crazy??

I think I must be. A little.

People say I'm a good artist. A classmate once said he was actually jealous of me. Apparently "everything" I "create comes out amazing." That's nice.

But.

But there are times when I honestly wonder if I'm wasting myself (and the government's money) by studying this stuff. Oh sure, I love what I do, but it's not going to cure cancer. I'm not even making any bold political statements.

I'm just sticking leaves to a giant piece of paper with rubber cement.

It's a little late in the game to change my major but...

...holy crap, what am I doing??

I Really am wearing A goofy Hat

I've got all my supplies out on the table. The paper is ready to go. I've got music and a goofy hat on. I'm ready to create.

Except the neighbors downstairs left their radio on. Normally I don't mind, but it's super loud. My floor is vibrating. This is much louder than they usually play their music. And I know they're not home because I saw them walking out and we exchanged "good mornings."

It sounds like some kind of rock 'n' roll. Harder stuff than I usually like. (I prefer bands like, you know, Nickel Creek, so you can imagine why I'm maybe not handling it as well as others might) I'll just have to turn my music up and hope I can drown it out, though I will probably only succeed in driving myself into the frenzied confusion of syncopated rhythms and contradicting instrumentals, which can only result in frustrated dissatisfaction and a headache.

I'm a little bit particular about my music. A music-prude of sorts. Especially the lyrics. If your lyrics are shallow or overly repetitive or just plain stupid, your song has no place on my radio. How can you listen to music and not listen to the words, what the artist is saying, the whole purpose of the song?? I can't do it.

That paragraph had nothing to do with anything. Sorry.

I'm hungry. I've still got some blueberries. I'm gonna make myself some pancakes!

w00t.

please learn The Difference between "Breath" and "Breathe" please

Fall Break starts tomorrow but that just wasn't soon enough, apparently.

I went to bed last night feeling pretty [blegh] and didn't feel too much better when I woke up. I think I'm getting the flu. [blegh]

So I've just stayed home all day, not feeling great but not feeling terrible, waiting to magically feel better. Okay, I haven't been home all day: husband and I ran some errands in the morning. I bought some bad ice cream ("caramel cheesecake" sounds amazing, right?  well it's not. save yourself $2.99 and avoid ice cream altogether). I put some gesso on paper so I can draw all over it tomorrow. And...and...then I ate some soup.

Oh yeah, this Fall Break is getting off to a great start.

I've got a list of things I could be doing, things I'd like to be getting done, but I'm choosing to ignore the To-Do list right now. I'm going to go play my Gamecube for no significant reason other than it's been feeling a bit neglected lately.

I wish I wrote about things that are important on this blog. Mostly I'm just vague. (which makes the blog relatable? meh?) I could write about my elephant (see previous post. and no, I'm not going to bother putting a link to the post here, just scroll to the bottom of the page and do it yourself) (I'm sorry, that was rude. In my defense, I'm probably getting sick) The only problem with the elephant is that it's somewhat controversial. And I've tried pretty hard to keep this blog neutral.

Wish I could say I have a good reason for keeping it neutral, but there is none. I'm a coward that wants to get along with everyone, so I refrain from saying anything that would cause others to disagree with me.

Plus I'm lazy. If you offend people, you need to stay on your toes to fend them off. You have to prepare yourself mentally and emotionally for long, futile debates.

I'd rather nap.

Or draw.

Or play stupid games on my Gamecube.

Mostly I'm a coward, though. In the words of F. Scott Fitzgerald in This Side of Paradise, "I'm so spineless, sometimes I wonder how I get away with it."
I wish I could remember which character said it...I think it was Tom to Amory.

Take care of yourselves.

avoiding The elephant

There's an elephant in my room.

Not really just in my room. It follows me around wherever I go. It serves as a constant reminder of a giant issue that needs to be faced.

I'm not ready to face it.

I don't have enough information. I don't have enough first-hand experience. I don't have enough time. I don't have enough courage.

It keeps staring at me; I can see it in my peripheral view. I'm trying to ignore it so I can get things done. (I have so very much to do) I should talk about this elephant with someone.

People are very kind to me for also pretending that the elephant isn't there. I am most grateful to them for not bringing it up.

Or maybe they don't see it. Maybe they've ignored it for so long that it's become part of the furniture.

I don't want that to happen. This elephant needs to be considered and confronted.

And besides...

...I can't keep sidling around it. It's getting too cluttered in here for that.

But I'm not ready to face it.

this Is, Apparently, how I Spend my time

This is the strangest thing I've ever seen.

Especially Pete's sirloin steak side-kick named Larry.

"You...are invincible." (jedi hand-wave)

Very strange. But pretty brilliant (and humorous and entertaining) in a way that I think some of my readers (A. Twirl, I'm thinking of you specifically. Tell me if I'm wrong) will appreciate.

So if you have 6 minutes to kill, have a look:

Salesman Pete and the Amazing Stone from Outer Space!

Enjoy and have a sunshine day!

I'm just So Proud of Myself For Knowing what "paroxysm" Means

I'm still laughing at that last post, by the way. ("stockholm syndrome"...brilliant!!)

This afternoon, I was walking out of Pilates and thinking about how I've got to go buy matte board at the bookstore, tote it back to the library to get it cut, and what were the dimensions of the windows again?...And then I noticed something strange.

The general murmur of the crowded halls had changed, almost imperceptibly, from the highs and lows of many conversations to the collective hum of a single topic. People were stopping and staring, some were smirking, others were annoyed...what was going on?

As I neared the exit doors, I saw them: Several students, hurrying inside, completely drenched. I mean, really  really soaked. The kind of soaked that happens when you are sprayed down with a garden hose, or thrown into a swimming pool. Hair was dripping and curling, clothes were sopping puddles all over the floor.
Victims of the rain reacted differently - some with humor, some with disdain - but it was clear from the lack of jackets and looks of surprise that it had come out of nowhere.

A surprise downpour. A paroxysm of Nature.

A crowd was gathering around the exit doors, staring in dismal disbelief at the buckets of water dumping out of the sky, reluctance to go out into the soggy mess was written on every face. And thus my plans to buy matte board were quickly dashed, for there was no way to transport them from one place to the other without taking them into the rain, which they would surely not survive.

Alright, so no matte boards. I still had to venture out into the rain if I wanted to get to work on time, though.

So I went out in the rain. I wasn't as drenched as certain others because it was already petering out, but I still got pretty wet. My hair got fairly curly. The cuff of my pants picked up water from small rivers rushing through dips and crevices of the pavement. I adopted the same grim expression of my fellow students as we braved the paroxysm together.

Looking back on it now, though, I'm sad it's over. I should have relished the rain while it was there. I should have taken time to appreciate it. I should have opened my arms to the sky to revel in the rebellion of the heavens.

I live in a desert. I'm not overly excited about that fact. I miss the rain when it's gone. I miss moisture. I miss the sounds of thunder and the thrill of lightening. Thunder feels good to hear. Not to my ears; to my ears it's just another noise. I'm talking about the sensation thunder creates in my soul. The visual stimulus of lightening does the same thing. It's comforting and thrilling and beautiful in a way I could never hope to describe - either visually or in words - but can only relish for myself.

Now that I'm in the office, warm and dry and bored, I find myself yearning to be back outside to stand in the midst of one of earth's marvels:

Rain.

this Made Me laugh for Days And days

Look: amazing comic:


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