S'good

I've been wanting to see this movie for a while. I've always liked Banksy's artwork, but I had no idea he was that involved with Thierry Guetta (Mr. Brainwash), or that Guetta was even in the movie. The whole story is pretty interesting, and the movie's got a lot of great shots in it. I highly recommend it.

Trophy Case

So, I was talking to my dad the other day over the phone, and we were talking about his contributions to the home decor. All the kids have portraits on the walls, works of art on the fridge, etc, but my dad doesn't have anything up on the walls except his 'Operation Iraqi Freedom' flag, which he got from his second tour.

We got to talking and came to the conclusion that we should get him a Rehab Trophy Case. It would hold everything he's earned from his three stints in rehab- punctuality awards, finger-paints from art therapy, pictures of him and his Scrabble buddies, etc.

I'm writing this down for two reasons- one, because I never knew when my dad going to rehab was going to become funny, or if it was every going to become funny. The fact that we can joke about it is a load off my mind.

The second reason if I'm thinking of writing a story about it. I don't know why, but I think it's an interesting idea.

Anyways, there it is. Take this as a memo to myself.

There was something else I wanted to write down so I'd remember it, but I can't remember what it is...

"You're one shirt away from Carlton, mofo."

To write.

This past October marks the one year anniversary of my becoming an english major. It's been the best decision of my entire college career, switching from political science to english. I love political science. I love learning about political theory and international diplomacy, but I could never ever be one of those people who sold their first-born to work on a political campaign, or have crushes on Newt Gengrich. Now, I don't have to.

A couple weeks ago, I finished reading The Writing Life by Annie Dillard. I liked the book as a whole, but I was a bit disappointed. I was expecting to walk away from it wanting to change the world with my writing, but I didn't. Instead, her book made me look at why I want to write.

I don't consider myself a writer, per se. I feel like calling myself a writer would be like someone taking an acting class and calling themselves a thespian. I like to write, and I know I'm not terrible at it, but I don't feel worthy of calling myself a writer. At best, I'm an amateur, aspiring writer.

I like to write for the same reasons everyone else like to write. I like forming images and concepts for other people to enjoy. I like using language and techniques that I've never used before. I like pushing my mind's envelope, etc.

Anyways, and I'm only just now realizing this, I like writing because I can't talk.

For a long time now, I've had this verbal dyslexia type of a thing going on. I trip over words all the time. It's the most frustrating thing in the world sometimes. I know exactly what I want to say in my head, but getting it out of my mouth never works out the way I want it to. I don't have to worry about any of that when I'm writing, though. I can manipulate words to my heart's desire, and people know exactly what I mean. It's a huge release, actually, not worrying about how my mouth will contort something.

Anywho, there it is. I figured it out.

Scott Farkus

A memory that never fails to make me laugh...

I was asked the other day what my favorite memory of all time is. I don't have a favorite memory that I can recall, but there is one that never, ever, ever fails to make me laugh out loud when I think about it.

It involves my little sister, Mary Alice. Mary Alice is one of my favorite people in the world, which makes the memory inherently perfect. Anyways, Mary Alice and I decided to bake cookies to deliver to our old Bishop's house. He's an old family friend, and one of the biggest influences on my young adult life. Not important. So we baked the cookies and went to deliver them to his family's house. We'd done this a million times before so we'd got this thing down to a science. We drive down his driveway, which he shares with three other houses so it's rather long, she gets out of the car, runs to the door, drops the cookies on the porch, knocks on the door, runs back to the car, and I drive in reverse out of the driveway.

On this particular day, though, everything was covered in ice, the way Virginia always is in early January. The roads were alright, but the sidewalks were covered in a half-inch of ice. Mary Alice got out of our car and walked up to the door with the cookies. On her way back, she went from walking to a slight jog. She was 10 feet away from the car when she slipped and fell on her back. From where I was sitting in the driver's seat, all I saw was her running...and then nothing. I let out the loudest, most unabashed laugh I've ever heard leave my mouth, and didn't stop laughing until probably an hour later. The image of her slipping and falling is one of the greatest things taking up residence in my head. It's the perfect marriage of heart-warming, slap-stick, irreverent, and nostalgic.

A close second is this one time a girl in the Hart locker room tried to jump sideways from the left side of a bench to the right. Her right foot went up, almost over the bench, when it got caught and she fell on her face. On. her face. My reaction was something like, "HA HaaaaOh my gosh are you okay?!"

There's something about people falling over in general. It's so rudimentary. It's man against gravity, and man loses. There's nothing that man will ever be able to do or invent to conquer the inevitability of falling once or twice. It's gonna happen. The have no control over their facial expression of what their limbs do. It's all reflex. It's beautiful.

Holy Crap

It's been forever since I've updated this thing, so I'll just give highlights.

I'm 21. Legal as legal can be. I still feel like I'm 19, though.

This is the weirdest semester ever. For some reason it's just felt incredibly off and I don't know why.

Caitie finally got back from Iceland.

I got three jobs- a tutor with the Reading Center, a Teacher's Assistant, and an Intern with the Gersh Agency (sort of).

I've made up my mind. Summer 2011 will be spent in either New York City or Los Angeles doing some sort of internship.

Dad' s been in Alabama sine October and he's finally back home!

Isaac puts his mission papers in in a month.

I learned how to torrent. Duuuuuuuude.

I sprained my toe back in September. I was biking back home and I went down a steep hill toward a bridge. I couldn't see very well and I was going pretty fast. Anyways, I thought I was going to run into the bridge's railing and I over corrected in the opposite direction, actually hitting the railing. I flipped off my bike and landed on my entire left side. I thought my arm was broken at first, and my leg had already started to bruise all up and down my calves. I went to the E.R feeling like a pansy since nothing was actually broken. Anyways, they fit me for a boot and I had to walk around with it for the first week of school or so.

Went to L.A to visit Leanne. I forgot how much I love that city. We went to Venice, tons of good restaurants and shopping. Pretty perfect.

I discovered Dan Auerbach. His voice is the sexiest, raspiest, trashiest, most perfect thing out there.

Writing Retreat 2010- Three days of sitting in a cabin at the base of the Tetons, writing, with a couple of breaks for ghost stories, night-hikes, other hikes, eating, teachers playing guitar and doing magic tricks.

Reading Center vs. Writing Center kickball games.

I love grading.

Also, I hate grading.

My hair is 19 inches long from head to tip.

I MET DAVID SEDARIS. I went to his book signing in Salt Lake and got to speak to the man.

Went to Park City with the Metts clan for Thanksgiving.

I don't really feel like writing anymore.

Montreal

I. Love. Montreal.

The only two complaints I have about the whole city:

1. The roads are no joke. They will eat you alive.

2. Everything's closed by 5:00 in the evening.

But everything else is pretty cherry. It's such a cool city. I'd describe it as a mix of Europe and New York. It's kinda grimy and visceral like New York, but it's got a modern cobblestone feel to it too. Plus the people here are incredibly friendly and genuine.

We got here last Thursday after about a 12 hour drive. We didn't do much the first night other than stop by Subway for dinner. We all crashed pretty early.

Friday, we walked around the Latin Quarter during the early afternoon and ate lunch at a cafe called Julienne & Chocolate. First good choice of the day. Mary Alice got the biggest Nutella crepe I've ever seen in my life and the rest of the food was ex-ce-llent. After lunch we headed over towards the Quays by the waterfront- which is gorgeous. We stopped to watch a crazy street performer for about 30 minutes. Second good choice of the day. The man was literally crazy- walking on razor sharp knives, lying on nails, juggling fire, eating fire, juggling knives, whipping cigarettes in his mouth in half. Crazy. After that we walked around the streets for a bit looking at shops. It felt a lot like Soho, but...if Soho were in Italy or something. I wish we could've stayed there longer. There were so many cool shops and performers and restaurants to see. That night we went to see the Russian Cozack dancers at Place Des Arts. The dancers were abso-friggin-lutely incredible. They were doing stunts and kicks I didn't think were humanly possible without a trampoline. Or a lot of vodka.

Saturday, we spent some time in Old Montreal. We ate lunch at a Spanish restaurant called Koka Loka. Mom got chocolate chicken, I got mango Salmon, Mary Alice got Cajun steak, and Lark got a salad. After lunch, though, is where it got ugly. We stopped by this place filled with dried/ yogurt-covered/ chocolate-covered fruits and nuts, with a million types of candy and cookies. We walked out of that place happy. OH BUT WAIT, then we went to this bagel shoppe that Mom read about in one of her travel books. We got some bagels and a slice of cake, all of which were delicious. AND THEN we stopped by a bakery that Mom had heard about from my Aunt. We got chocolate croissants, fruit tarts, some chocolate cake, probably a million other things that I've blocked out of my memory...and then we just sort of sat there and gormandized. It was a feast that will never be repeated, for my stomach's sake. After that we walked town and visited a few cool stores- some clothing stores and a record store (with a row filled with about 80 Frank Zappa records and a section dedicated to eight-tracks). After all that we walked through Parc de Montreal and ended at the top of the city with an amazing view. The whole day was pretty perfect. It was cloudy and drizzly which added another dimension to the city. It made it feel a whole lot more whole, and a little more gothic. I like walking around rainy cities in general, but Montreal looked particularly cool.

Sunday we stopped by Notre Dame which was breath-taking. That sounds cheesy, but there really is no other phrase to describe it. It's huge and open and dark and warm and intricate and inspiring and classic and bold and humbling all at the same time. Afterwards we went to a Greek restaurant for lunch. It was probably my favorite meal of the whole trip (so far)- Souvlaki, Poutine, and Baklava. Plus the woman who owned the restaurant. She was exactly how I pictured a Greek grandma- constantly offering us food, making sure we were well taken care of, complimenting us and talking about how important family is. She came from Mount Olympus, Greece to Montreal when she was about 20 and started her restaurant with her two daughters thinking she would make enough to go back to Greece one day. She was a truly lovely person- you could taste it. After lunch we stopped by a small gallery for Jenny Holtzer. It was pretty interesting- it centered on Iraq and Guantanamo Bay. She's got a wicked aesthetic, and definitely knows how to get her point across. Check her out. From there we went to Montreal's Science museum and then back home where we crashed for the rest of the day.

Monday, we stopped by the Musee Des Beaux Art. They've got an exhibit on Miles Davis that I've been dying to see for a while. Surprise! It was closed. So now we gotta wait until Wednesday. We got to see the outside of the museum though...which was pretty cool? From there we stopped by the Biosphere on Jean Drapier, an island off of the shoreline. We learned allllllll about pollinators, water conservation, and toxic chemicals. C'etait hyper bien! The rest of the day was spent on the Subway, which is my favorite part of the city. They're a whole lot cleaner than New York's, and more substantial than D.C's Metro system. It's like a whole other city. They've also got a lot of talent down there. I think I've spent more money on Subway street performers than in actual stores. Today we walked by a man playing the most hauntingly beautiful Japanese instrument. It echoed through all the corridors or the station. It actually made it feel a lot like Tokyo felt- not that I remember it too well, but I remember how it felt.

Crashing again. Seacrest out.

Good Vibrations

Good things:

1. I have 1,500 new songs in my iTunes library courtesy of Taylor, with more to come. My favorites so far (new stuff and old favorites)- Atlas Sound, Yo La Tengo, Lee Perry, No Age, Animal Collective, The Eels, Ruby Suns, Wilco, Lou Reed, Jack White, Son House, Khonner, Dan Auerbach, and I rediscovered "My Darling" by Wilco. Mmmm....

2. Doing the dishes- Makes me feel at home faster than anything else can.

4. The Road- Still reading it, still loving it.

5. The gym- Treadmill, I missed you.

6. Giant runs- Mary Alice and I went last night and bought literally everything we wanted. I felt like a kid in a candy (grocery) store.

7. Humidity- This one borders on being a bad thing, but since I've been home I haven't even touched lotion, and my hair is silky AND manageable.

8. Forever 21 men's section- Who knew?

9. Canada is the new Europe- The fam decided not to go to Europe and decided to go to Montreal instead. We were disappointed at first, but whatcha gonna do? I've never been to Canada, and I still get to practice French, AND Montreal is gorgeous.

10. Paul Simon- I love, love, love Paul Simon. Ever since I was a kid, he's been one of my favorite singers. Every time I listen to him I'm instantly 10 times happier than before I pressed play.

11. New albums- Arcade Fire's new album is pretty darn catchy and Weezer's coming out with Hurley on September 14th- which means my crushes on Rivers Cuomo and Scott Shriner are back in full effect.

12. September 2nd- 4 days in Los Angeles with muh BFF. I'm really not seeing any down-side here.

13. Time- I got a lot of it. And it's free.

14. Fall semester- I worked out my class/work schedule for Fall semester, and I'm pretty psyched for it. Online classes are the best thing choice I've ever made.

15. S'all good.

Have you read the red book?

I don't even know why I'm writing this right now. I'm completely and totally exhausted. Literally ever part of me is tired, and knowing that this week is gonna be crazy is making it worse.

We (the fam and I) got home around 5:30 this morning from Utah. I've never been more glad to get out of a car in my life. We've driven from Utah to Virginia before, but it's never been 5 of us in a Toyota Corolla. Looking at cars makes me want to hurl. Waynes World- style.

It wasn't all bad. I got a lot of reading in, which felt so good. The past few weeks, actually, I've been able to read some good stuff. Some of it for school, some of it for myself, some of it at the recommendations of others.

I finished The Brief Wonderous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Diaz which was lent to me almost 3 weeks ago. It's a crazy book, but I highly recommend it. I didn't know what to expect when I first started reading it, other than a brief synopsis from the lender, and I think that's part of what made it so crazy. The way Diaz tells the story is so captivating. He has this insane voice and an incredible combination of storytelling techniques that make the novel like nothing you've ever read. At the same time, though, while you're reading it it's so obvious that that's how the story had to be told. And the ending, oh my gosh, the ending. I re-read the last section of the book maybe 10 times. I won't quote it or spoil it. It has to be read with the rest of the book. Anyways, it's a crazy, bombastic, ghetto-fabulous kegger of a book.**

** Credit goes to Jeff for recommending it. For future reference, if Jeff White tells you to read a book (or really, if he tells you to do anything), read (or do) it. It will probably change your life.

In other news, I started reading Cormac McCarthy's The Road. I've seen the movie and I've been told by tons of people (including Mr. Jeff White) that I've "got to read this book" for something like 3 months, but I've never had time to read it until now. About 5 days ago I got an email from my English 495 teacher with a list of suggested reading for a future project and it included The Road, so it's now school reading. I started it Wednesday night around 11:00 and couldn't stop. With all my notes, though, I only got through about 50 pages. Looking back, I'm glad I saw the movie first; it's helped to keep the story more fluid. So far I love it and I'm pretty psyched to write about it. The way Cormac McCarthy writes is surprisingly simplistic. When I say simplistic, I don't, by any means, mean 'simple,' I mean he doesn't add flourishes to everything, which I like. Every once in a while, though, he throws in a sentence that blows my mind- partially because it's so profound and partially because he has a way of deriving totally abstract concepts from really simple actions/situations**

** I'm not explaining it as well as I wish I could. The man is a genius, I'm not.

Also on the list of books is A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers. I've been a fan of Dave Eggers for a little bit. I fell in love with his short stories a while back, but lack of time/life kept me from reading any of his longer stuff. I attempted starting the book last Summer before I left for school, but only got about 25 pages in before I had to start reading textbooks again. Picking it back up again (again, because of Jeff) was one of the best things I did all semester. Dave Eggers has, in my extremely limited opinion, one of the best voices as an author that I've ever read. He's really clear about his intentions as far as what he wants you to get out of what he's writing, and sort of shoves it down your throat, but in a good way. Reading him is like getting into a heated discussion with someone, and having them get louder and louder as they make their point. He's also got a really solid way of balancing the 'heavy' with humor. Parts of the book are heartbreaking, and other parts made me laugh out loud (not small guffs of suppressed laughter either, we're talking laugh-ter). Anyways, if you're looking for a mini journey/wake up call, read it.

This semester I got to read a lot of Russian literature for one of my classes. I've always like Russian history, so getting the chance to read the literature was pretty exciting. We read stuff from Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, Gogol, Lermontov, Chekhov, etc. There were a few highlights here and there, but my favorite pieces ended up being Chekhov's short stories. I don't know why I'd never read them before, or why they're not more widely-read in America. The man had a wicked sense of humor, and an even more wicked sense of suffering. My favorite of his stories is one called Misery. Without giving too much away, it's about a coach driver who's son has just passed away, and all he wants to do is talk about it. It's a perfect story. Period.

Right now I'm in the middle of Reading Lolita in Tehran. I'm about half-way through it, and I haven't really formed an opinion on it yet, partially because I've ended up breaking up my reading of it over the course of about 3 months now. It's got a lot of historical/ cultural background on the Middle East, though, which is pretty tight. Ever since Dad started working in Iraq I've wanted to learn as much as I can about the Middle East. Even if the book itself weren't amazing, I think getting a glimpse at the Islamic point of view of certain issues would be worth it.

Next on the list:

In the Name of Honor- Mukhtar Mai (look her up)
Things Fall Apart- Chinua Achebe
Half the Sky: Nicholas Kristof
My Name is Asher Lev- Chaim Potok
Life of Pi- Yann Martel
This is Your Brain on Music- Daniel J. Levitin
The White Album- Joan Didion
The Shipping News- Annie Proulx

Anycrap. That's all I got.

Reading's pretty cool, kids. A-wink.

Miles to go before I sleep.

Road-trip 2010 Highlights:

I left Idaho on Saturday (July something? 24th?) around 4:30 and got to Utah around 9:30- 10:00. We spent a few minutes at my Grandma/Grandpa Sine's house where I was grilled by my Uncle Scott about what I was doing with my life, then went over to Grandma Cannon's condo to sleep. It was all the same- the smells, the Diet Cokes, the children sprawled all over couches, smelling like sweat and food. I love it.

The next day we got up and went down to Temple Square to walk around and ended up seeing the Joseph Smith movie. I forgot how much I like that movie. Afterwards we went to sacrament meeting with the Cannon grandparents- my first family ward sacrament in 4 months. Kids everywhere, and I still managed to fall asleep.

That night we had Mary Alice's birthday dinner. It's official- none of the sine children are little kids anymore; we're all teenagers or older. It's strange. I feel like it's the end of a dynasty. Anyways, we had dinner and dessert, and played 2 rousing rounds of UNO, annnd then went to bed.

The next few days all sort of melt together now that I look back on them, but I'll give some highlights.

-I know we were in Vegas at one point. We stayed at the Stratosphere Hotel on the strip. I fell asleep around 11:00, which never happens. I didn't even make it to the bathroom to brush my teeth or wash my face. We ate at a so-so Italian restaurant and went to a so-so gym, and that was about it.

-In Utah we hung out at the Sports Mall- my favorite place in Salt Lake City. I got to catch up on my reading/ running/ swimming/ tanning.

-We hung out with the Matheson family, four-wheeling at their farm. Then the Dads reminisced about their days patrolling Berlin. Bless their hearts...

-4 hour drives between Salt Lake and Vegas, and Vegas and Redlands, California. It went by a lot faster than I expected since it was just Ben, Isaac, and I, so it wasn't too shabby.

And Caitie's on skype so I gotta go?

Poli Sigh.

As I type this, I'm 2,500 words into a joint essay on

1. Why states choose to abide by international norms even when there is no official governing body coercing them to do so.

2. The theoretical solution to Islamic fundamentalism/ terrorism as outlined by the 9/11 Commission Report and Mearsheimer/Walts' "The Israel Lobby."

With every. single. effing. word I type I'm more and more glad I became an English major. I can't even imagine what my college career would be like if I hadn't. Actually, I don't know why I didn't make the switch earlier. Granted, I love learning about theories and government and politics, but my gosh- being one of those kids who would sell their first born to work on a campaign and have crushes on Dick Cheney - I couldn't do it. I'm barely able to stomach these essays. I'll be so glad when this class is over, and my official career as a political science student is done, at least academically.

Anyways, there it is.

Ted, the love of my life.

So I was at Broulims today, shopping with Elizabeth and Amanda. I ran into the carbonated water aisle to pick up some of the good stuff. In front of the carbonated water, though, was a motorized scooter with a man in it. I waited behind the scooter, pretending to look at some chips so he wouldn't feel pressured, and I kept an eye on him to see if he needed any help. Within minute of standing there, he asked me to come over to compare prices on some Lemon/Lime soda. He told me he was making home-made lemonade, and went on to talk about everything he wanted to put in it, and asked me my opinion on all the ingredients. I told him how I would make it, to which he replied, "Ohhhhh you've made this before! Well then...you a student up here?" I told him I was, and then he asked me what my major was. "English." He gave me a disapproving look, and then I asked him what he majored in in school. He told me he'd only been to one year of high school.

"But you wanna know something?....I'm a millionaire."

At first I didn't believe him, and figured it was just one of those things that old men say to kids to get a rise out of them. I asked him how he'd become a millionaire, and he showed me his drivers license, which allows him to carry nuclear chemicals with him on any vehicle he operates. He was also one of two men to set up one of the largest oil pipelines in Evanston, Wyoming. On TOP of that, he owns a business which works on houses, a business that made him $27,000 a month at one point. He then proceeded to show me his credit card, a platinum, no spending limit card from Bank of America with no limit and a gold seal on it. I also got a look at his checkbook, and there were a few zeros in there...

He described more of what he did for a living, told me he'd just bought a new Volkswagon a few days ago, and then said, "So would you like to go out on a date with me?"

At first I thought it was the same kind of thing as the millionaire comment. I laughed and gave him a "Maybe another time." But then he asked again, and told me we'd "have a real nice time, a real nice time." I didn't know what else to say, so I told him I was seeing someone. He asked if I was engaged, and I told him it wasn't that serious yet. He asked what major he was, I said "English, of course." He didn't approve of that. So I gave him a "Well if things don't work out with him, I'll give you a call." He told me I'd better. It was right about then that I was getting sort of uncomfortable, so I pointed to the Carbonated water and told him that was my stop. I grabbed it from the shelf, and he cornered me against his cart and the rest of the Carbonated water. He asked what I liked, and old me I was a very striking young lady, and that I "caught his eye for some reason." He then proceeded to tell me that I shouldn't be an English major, but a dancer. I asked him why, and he told me, "Wait, no. Not a dancer...a...a P.E teacher!" He told me I "just fit the bill." Then he told me that I was a beautiful young woman, and that any man would be lucky to have me, and to give him a call one of these days.

OH WAIT, then he told me that he was related to Napoleon, and told me that it was Napoleon that sold us the Louisiana Purchase (Am I wrong, or was it King Louis?). So, we talked about Napoleon and how he's gotten a bad rap through the years. It was very enlightening, to say the least. After that he let me go. We said our goodbyes, I shook his hand, asked him name, we told each other to have a nice day...and I left. I left the man that could've made me the wife of a millionaire before the age of 21.

In other news, the sky in Rexburg was insane today! The clouds were the color of the desert, and the sun was BRIGHT red.

Anyways, good day...

99 Problems but my kicks ain't one.

1. ONE OF YOUR SCARS, HOW DID YOU GET IT?
The scar on my chin is from jumping off the edge of the pool backwards

2. WHAT IS ON THE WALLS IN YOUR ROOM?

A bunch of mismatched posters of the Eiffel Tower, Jimi Hendrix, and turn-tables.

4. WHAT TYPE OF MUSIC DO YOU LISTEN TO?
I like a lot of music- "Rock" mostly, but I love hip hop,reggae, classical, blues, some country, funk, classic rock, folk, instrumental stuff. It's all good.

5. DO YOU KNOW WHAT TIME YOU WERE BORN?
Around 6:00 PM in Arizona

6. WHAT DO YOU WANT MORE THAN ANYTHING RIGHT NOW?
A crystal ball. That'd be awesome

7. WHAT DO YOU MISS?
My family

8.WHATS YOUR MOST PRIZED POSSESSION?
Probably my Mac. It's got everything on it- my writing, my pictures, etc.

9. HOW TALL ARE YOU?
5'9"

10. DO YOU GET CLAUSTROPHOBIC?
Nope

11. DO YOU GET SCARED IN THE DARK?
I used too.

12. THE LAST PERSON TO MAKE YOU CRY?
Myself, probably.

13. WHAT'S YOUR WORST FEAR?
That someone's life will be worse because of me.

14. WHAT KIND OF HAIR/EYE COLOR DO YOU LIKE ON THE OPPOSITE SEX?
I like hair on the darker side, I guess. I don't have an eye preference, except purple eyes are a no-go. It's just not kosher.

15. WHERE CAN YOU SEE YOURSELF BEING PROPOSED TO?
HA. Anywhere but the temple grounds, the gardens, or over the phone.

16. COFFEE OR ENERGY DRINK?
Coffee...ice cream?

17. FAVORITE PIZZA TOPPING?
chicken

18. IF YOU COULD EAT ANYTHING RIGHT NOW, WHAT WOULD IT BE?
Grilled vegetable salad from California Pizza Kitchen.

19. FAVORITE COLOR OF ALL TIME?
Green or purple.

20. HAVE YOU EVER EATEN A GOLDFISH?
Crackers or fish?

21. WHAT WAS THE FIRST MEANINGFUL GIFT YOU'VE EVER RECEIVED?
My baptismal dress

22. DO YOU HAVE A CRUSH?
Yes.

23. ARE YOU DOUBLE JOINTED?
No.

24. FAVORITE CLOTHING BRAND?
I like Steve Madden shoes, American Eagle jeans, and Victorias Secret bras. Everything else is fair game.

25. WHO IS YOUR FAV FEMALE/MALE CELEBRITY?
Male- Alec Baldwin, Female- Meryl Streep

26. DO YOU HAVE A PET RIGHT NOW?
Back at home

27. WHAT KIND IS IT?
Dog named Honey.

28. WOULD YOU FALL IN LOVE KNOWING THAT THE PERSON IS LEAVING?
Probably.

30. SAY A NUMBER FROM ONE TO A HUNDRED:
17

31. BLONDES, BRUNETTES OR RED HEADS?
I love em all.

32. FAVORITE QUOTE?
It's super cheesy, but "Doubt that the stars are fire. Doubt the Sun moves. Doubt truth to be a liar. But never doubt I love" from Hamlet.

33. FAVORITE PLACE?
Williamsburg, Virginia. I could probably think of a 'cooler' place, but there are so many good memories there.

34. HAVE YOU BEEN OUT OF THE USA?
Yes

35. YOUR WEAKNESSES?
Intelligence, sense of humor, and sugar.

36. MET ANYONE FAMOUS?
Met? No.

37. FIRST JOB?
paper route

38. EVER DONE A PRANK CALL?
Yep.

39. DO YOU THINK EVERYONE OUT THERE HAS A SOUL MATE?
I know I'm not supposed to think they do because of agency and all that, but I like thinking there's someone meant for everyone.

40. WHAT WERE YOU DOING BEFORE YOU FILLED THIS OUT?
Eating breakfast

41. HAVE YOU EVER HAD SURGERY?
Yes.

42. WHAT DO YOU GET COMPLIMENTED ABOUT MOST?
My hair or my eyes.

43. HAVE YOU EVER HAD BRACES?
Yep.

44. WHAT DO YOU WANT FOR YOUR BIRTHDAY?
Debts paid off. Or books/music/movies.

45. HOW MANY KIDS DO YOU WANT AND THEIR NAMES?
I want at least two kids. As for names, I like them unique- Vendella (I don't know why...), Roman, Simone, Maddox

46. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?
My name's a combination of a girl my mom used to take care of, and the last part of my mom's name.

47. WHAT IS THE BIGGEST TURN OFF OF THE OPPOSITE SEX?
Ignorance or insincerity

48. WHAT IS ONE THING YOU LIKED ABOUT HIGH SCHOOL?

I actually really liked high school for the most part. I liked skipping school though.

49. WHAT KIND OF SHAMPOO DO YOU USE?
I switch between Dove and Garnier Fructis

50. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?
Yes.

51. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCH MEAT?
Turkey

52. ANY BAD HABITS?
I can be a terrible procrastinator.

53. ARE YOU A JEALOUS PERSON?
Nah

54. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON, WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?
If I could get past the first stages of myself. I'm incredibly shy, which I think gets mistaken for arrogance.

55. DO YOU AGREE WITH FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS?
Not really.

56. DO LOOKS MATTER?
Yes.

57. HOW DO YOU RELEASE ANGER?
Humor.

58. OH NO, THIS IS MISSING!
My I-card.

59. WHAT'S YOUR MAIN GOAL IN LIFE?
This'll probably be the cheesiest answer on here, but I want to perpetuate change. I really, really want to make a difference on a global scale.

60. WHAT WAS YOUR FAVORITE TOY AS A CHILD?
Barbies. I had quite the collection if I do say so myself.

61. HOW OLD WERE YOU WHEN YOU FIRST FELL IN LOVE?
I don't think I've been in love yet.

62.WERE YOU A FAN OF BARNEY AS A LITTLE KID?
Yep.

63. DO YOU USE SARCASM?
Too much.

64. MASHED POTATOES OR MACARONI AND CHEESE?
Mashed potatoes!

65. WHAT DO YOU LOOK FOR IN A GUY/GIRL?
Kindness, taller than me, sturdy shoulders, intelligence, sense of humor, curiosity, creativity, sincerity, priesthood, sense of adventure. Any combination of those...

66. WHAT ARE YOUR NICKNAMES?
Lee-lee, Ivanstein, Bananalee, Lee Baby, Mormon

68. WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE TV SHOW?
30 Rock

69.WHAT'S THE BEST WAY TO DEAL WITH YOUR ENEMIES?
Put yourself in their shoes

70. WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR?
Pistachio, or any kind of chunky, chocolate concoction.

71. DO YOU HAVE ALL YOUR FINGERS AND TOES?
And proud of it.

72. DO YOU HAVE A COMPUTER IN YOUR ROOM?
my laptop

73. PLANS FOR TONIGHT?
What I want, when I want!...Plus some homework.

74. WHERE DO YOU WANT TO LIVE WHEN YOU ARE OLDER?
I wanna be a nomad when I grow up.

75. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS?
Sure

76. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO?
Beastie Boys...

77. LAST THING YOU DRANK?
Carbonated water

78. LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?
Mary Alice

79. THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE IN THE OPPOSITE SEX
Face.

80. WHAT DO YOU LIKE TO DO IN YOUR SPARE TIME?
Read, draw, run

81. FAVORITE THING TO HATE?
Nicholas Cage

82. FAVORITE SEASON OF THE YEAR?
Spring or Fall

83. WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE TYPE OF CANDY?
Chocolate chips.

84. HAVE YOU EVER REALLY AND TRULY HAD A BEST FRIEND?
Several.

85. WHAT IS YOUR HAIR COLOR?
It changes, but usually it's some form of Auburn.

86. EYE COLOR?
Changes from blue to gray to green

87. SHOE SIZE?
9-10

88. FAVORITE FAST FOOD PLACE?
I'm not a huge fast-food person...Panda Express?

89. FAVORITE RESTAURANT?
I've only been there twice, but I love Sushi Samba.

90. DO YOU LIKE SUSHI?
Yes.

91. WATCH TV TODAY?
Right now...

92. FAVORITE DAY OF THE YEAR?
Well it was September 11th in 1989, but it's varied ever since.

93. PLAY ANY MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS?
I have a working knowledge of the piano, and I used to play the flute.

94. REPUBLICAN OR DEMOCRAT?
Somewhere between the two.

96. RELATIONSHIPS OR ONE NIGHT STANDS?
Relationships

97. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU BOUGHT?
Cake mix, chocolate chips, cabbage, and carbonated water. This purchase brought to you by the letter 'C,' apparently...

98. WOULD YOU EVER BE A HOUSEWIFE?
If it meant I could raise my kids, definitely.

99. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING?
Alternating between Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius and Anton Chekov short stories

Well, there it is.

C'est Parfait.

This blog is going to seem like a jumbled mess with no real point to it, but I have write it all down before I lose my enthusiasm, because tonight, my friends, is one of those perfect nights that only comes around once in a blue moon. Granted, when I say perfect, I mean a very specific kind of perfect. There are different kinds, I think, like 'holiday' perfect or 'first date' perfect, but this one is the most complete of the 'perfects.' There are no expectations for how things are supposed to go for the remainder of the evening, and no hopes for the future than could be dashed. It depends solely on myself, and being completely content with everything around me.

I woke up today around 12:30, which I never, ever do. Ever. I got ready for church, which consisted of little more than a shower, a dress, and some mascara, then Ashley and I went to sacrament meeting. Our sacrament meeting was perfect. There weren't a lot of people there, and the testimonies were very sincere. After church, I walked over to the MC, which was completely empty, and wrote for about an hour. I also got a chance to read a few talks by general authorites. After reading/writing, I talked to Caitie over skype for another hour. I forgot how much I miss her. We talked about everything from Iceland to boys to how crazy it is that we're going to be mothers one day (which, by the way, is mind-blowing if you really think about it).

After that, I went home to find Eric Stephens! We shot the breeze for a while, planned the revolution that is our fight against the 'city hall' of Rexburg Housing, and then he left. Then I had some dinner, read a little, watched part of La Vie en Rose (Marion Cotillard is a goddess, by the way, and watching her as Edith Piaf completely broke my heart). The next two hours consisted of a power-nap, a conversation with my brother and a few other friends, and watching one of my favorite guilty pleasures, Charlie's Angels (not the semi-classic series with Farrah Fawcett, the campy one with Cameron Diaz). Right now, I'm sitting on the couch. It's 12:08 am, I have no homework due, tomorrow is a holiday, the door is half-cracked with a gorgeous night outside, and Thelma and Louise is on TV.

La vie est belle. La vie, c'est parfait.

Animal Collective

Today is a monumental day.

Today, a year after being introduced to them, I got reacquainted with the band Animal Collective.

If you've never listened to them, they're incredible. I've spent all day with their album, Merriweather Post Pavillion, on repeat (my apologies to anyone who may have said 'hi' to me on campus and I didn't respond. Now you know why). I'd say they're like a cross between the Beatles and MGMT, with a little bit of Beach Boys. I don't think I've liked an album this much since Spice Up Your Life.

Anyways, if you haven't heard them, check them out.

My Queue

I just got Netflix. This was a huge mistake. Goodbye GPA.

Quixotic.

It's currently 5:52 AM, and I've been up for about an hour baking stuff for later today. I should've been done by now, except in my 5 AM-edness I made a double batch of cake mix instead of cake-mix cookies, which means the time it'll take to finish these just about tripled. I should be really annoyed right now, and I think I almost was. I was standing above the cake mix after realizing what I had done, and I remember going through the thought process in my head, trying to make myself feel annoyed (as I rightfully should have been), but I couldn't do it. I almost became annoyed at the fact that I couldn't become annoyed.

It's because of a word that I've become obsessed with: quixotic.

I heard the word for the first time in a Debate/Forensics competition I was competing in in my junior year. A duo got up and began the introduction to their piece with the word, 'quixotic,' which they described (in so many words) as having hope even when facing insurmountable odds, after which they began performing a scene from 'Angels in America' and I tuned out. I've liked the word ever since, mostly for its phonetics, actually. I like the way it sounds, and the imagery that comes to mind every time I say it or think about it.

The word itself stems from Don Quixote. "Quixotic" refers to anything Don Quixote-like (i.e chivalry, idealism, foolishness, etc). The formal definition is:

"Quixotism is impracticality in pursuit of ideals, especially those ideals manifested by rash, lofty and romantic ideas or extravagantly chivalrous action. It also serves to describe an idealism without regard to practicality. An impulsive person or act might be regarded as quixotic."

Why I've latched on to this particular word, I don't know, but it's become sort of a motto for myself. I've had it written on my arm almost all semester, as a sort of 'memo' tattoo. I think the definition sort of encompasses how I feel about life. I like the idea of being hopeful or idealistic to an impractical degree. I think everyone needs that. What's the point of being completely rational 100% of the time? Especially someone my age. I'd much rather go through this phase of my life 'pursuing rash, lofty, romantic ideals' than relegating myself to a lifetime of rationality and logic. This isn't to say that I run around in a gypsy costume telling everyone to chill out and go with the flow. Actually, I like to consider myself a very rational person. But, beneath all of my rationality, I'm an idealist. I sometimes don't like to admit it, especially around the jaded Political Science crowd, but I'm roughly 4 years old in terms of how I see the world. There is no obstacle that can't be overcome or turned into a positive experience. I've seen people overcome seemingly insurmountable odds by working hard and being positive. There are so many great stories about people that survive terrible ordeals and come out on top. Why do we ever doubt that that could (and will) be us too?

Annnd I feel like I'm rambling, so I'm gonna end before I start sounding too much like a hippie, and go frost some (annoying) cupcakes.

In "Like"

It's been an exceptionally good week.

Here's some stuff that's made it, you know, exceptionally good....

1. Being an English major. I love it. I love having an excuse to write and read. I also like not being a Political Science major anymore, although it was fun while it lasted. I thought I'd have an identity crisis when I switched, but it's been one of the best decisions I've ever made. Scholastically, at least.

2. "Walls" by Beck. I found the song again after a year of not having it on my iPod. I don't know how I've lived without it. I've had it on repeat for about a day now. Also included under this is Beck's entire musical catalogue. The man is a genius.

3. Running around Rexburg. The weather is perfect and the sky is so much clearer than in Virginia. Running around here at night, especially in the Summer, is really therapeutic.

4. The World Cup. I don't think I need to elaborate on that one...

5. My Mac. After 3 years with my Dell (RIP) it's nice not to have to wait 5 minutes for my computer to boot up. I sort of felt like a sell-out when I first bought it, but it's my new best friend.

6. Good books. There are so many I want to read. This 7 week break is going to be stupid with reading.

7. Online shopping. I never shop online, but this past week I bought an old Rugby shirt and now I'm perma-excited for it to show up.

8. Baking. I got my family's cookie recipe a couple weeks ago, and I haven't looked back since. I've also been named the official baker of the David O. McKay Reading Center.

9. Summer. I never used to be one of those people that loved Summer. I actually prefer Fall. But, this Summer's been pretty tight so far. I love my classes, my job, my friends, the weather, all of it. Plus I get to hang out with the family all over the West coast and go to Europe in August. I really couldn't ask for more.

10. Fall semester. I decided to stay in Rexburg instead of going to LA for the internship because of some money/timing issues, and I'm feeling pretty good about it. It's gonna be a riot. A real scream!

I'll leave it at 10 for now. There's plenty more where that came from.

Writing. Creatively

So it's been a while since I posted anything new.

I stared a creative writing class Monday.

We write a lot.

Here.

5 Minute Write...

Running is my favorite enemy. We have a love and hate relationship that I can’t live with or without. It’s a relationship ultimately dominated by one word: hate.

This hate hits me in stages as I run, increasing and decreasing in intensity and focus. Beginning the run, I hate how tense every muscle is. No amount of stretching or warming up can prepare them for the pavement they’ll have to absorb. Each muscle in my legs and hips and stomach feels like an un-oiled joint at the crux of a large, out-dated, bulky machine. I can feel the individual fibers straining to catch up, reluctantly contracting and loosening with each stride. My mind looks for things to distract me from the awkwardness of the first steps, but all it can come up with is more hate.

I hate the Sun, the rays that relentlessly seep through my heather-gray shirt. I hate the drag of my sweatpants against the humid breeze. I hate the rhythm of my ponytail penduluming against the back of my head, always one beat behind my steps. I hate my sweat-soaked clothing, how it suctions to my back and arms and hangs heavily everywhere else. I hate that I keep picturing my red, blood-infused face in my head, and the slight bounce of my cheeks as I run. I hate the sweat that slithers through my eyebrows and pools threateningly on the edge of my eyelashes. I hate the rock that ends up in the arch of my right shoe, stabbing my already tender feet. I hate that my music won’t go any louder, or drown out the constancy of the hate.

By the end of my run, I hate that I can’t run any longer. I miss synchronizing my steps with the beat of each song. I miss feeling my heart pound blood into the rest of my body, being able to feel the strength of my pulse in my neck and my fingers and my feet. I miss the predictability of each step on the track. I miss forcing myself to forget about everything else going on in my life to concentrate on the track ahead of me. I miss the synthesis of each muscle and nerve and bone and cell orchestrating the rhythm pushing my body forward. I miss the war between my body and my mind, and that sense of victory knowing that both have won.

Sew Clee-shayed

So as part of my job as a tutor for BYU- I, I get to do online tutoring. Basically what happens is college students from all over the country e-mail us weekly grammar exercises and essays, and we correct/critique them and send them back. It's pretty much the best job on campus, if not the world. In one semester I've been blessed to read an essay about child leashes (which had one paragraph dedicated to a hypothetical situation in which an adult, talking to another adult, forgets that what's on the end of the leash in their hands is an actual child, tugs on the leash to shut them up, and pulls the child to the ground, giving them a concussion), another essay about how we should all go back to the days of Mid-wifery (which was another tutor's student), and a grammar worksheet which hailed peanut butter and jelly sandwiches as the most important invention of the 21st century (and you better believe this child was serious about it). One of my favorite assignments, though, was this one, where the student had to watch an hour of TV, or listen to an hour of radio, pick out all the cliches they heard, and modernize them to make them 'un-cliched.' So here it is, with a few notes (that I didn't send to this student)....

· Bad guys will always get killed by a snake, while the hero simply reaches out and picks it up with his bare hands. (VALID)

· Aliens usually speak English and have same colloquialisms. i.e. planet. (I DIDN'T KNOW 'PLANET' WAS A COLLOQUIALISM.)

- At least one of a pair of identical twins is born evil (CASE IN POINT: TWINS- STARRING DANNY DEVITO ND ARNOLD SCHWARZENEGGER.)

- Movie people can get cabs instantly, unless they are in danger, whereupon no cab can be found.

·People typing away on a computer will turn it off without saving the data. (VALID, EXCEPT I FEEL THEY'RE FORGETTING THE LANDMARK CASE OF PETER GIBBONS V. INITECH, IN THE MOVIE OFFICE SPACE, IN WHICH HE WAS FORCED TO WORK ON SATURDAY BECAUSE OF A LENGTHY DOCUMENT-SAVING PROCESS)

·If hero or villain takes an elevator, villain or hero can beat it by taking the stairs, even if the trip is 20 floors.

·Pastries are always in pink boxes (OR WHITE)

- Any lock can be picked with a credit card or paper clip (I WOULD ACCEPT THIS ONE, WERE THEY NOT FORGETTING THE MOST IMPORTANT PART OF THIS CLICHE- THE BOBBY PIN)

·Police Captain/lieutenants are always angry at their star detective and yell at him, threatening suspension if he doesn't drop the case. (THIS ONE, I LIKE)

·Explosions in space make noise. (NOW I'M BEGINNING TO WONDER WHAT HOUR OF TV THIS KID WAS WATCHING THAT HAD PASTRIES, A POLICE DETECTIVE, AN EXPLOSION IN SPACE, AND AN EVIL TWIN)

·Whenever anyone is chased into a staircase, she/he will run upstairs rather than down. (HOW ELSE ARE YOU GOING TO GET TO THE ROOFTOP FOR THE 'EDGE OF THE ROOFTOP' CONFRONTATION...GEEZ.)

Anyways, I thought it was amusing. Kudos to you, fellow movie analyst. Ku-DOS

Oi.

So within hours of that last post, the crap really hit the fan, not necessarily in a bad way... if, in fact, crap can hit a fan in a non-bad way.

I'll give the short version. I was talking online with an old friend who I used to date back in the day, and he told me that the real reason that our 'relationship' ended was because I scared him, or rather the feelings he had for me scared him. This came as somewhat of a shock, mainly because I'd resigned myself to believing other reasons for the relationship ending. The other reason, though, is that that was the first time I'd ever had someone tell me anything like that before. Usually when I'm in some sort of relationship with someone, I sort of just assume they 'like' me, nothing more. Thinking that there's anything more intense than 'like' weirds me out. It sounds strange, but thinking that someone could 'love' me is very odd. I don't mean that in a 'Poor me. I'm unlovable' kind of way, but thinking that I could inspire those kinds of feelings in someone makes me very uncomfortable. I have a really hard time thinking of myself as that kind of girl. It's so bizarre writing this, and reading it, and knowing how little it makes sense.

I should also clarify that 'the guy' isn't a creep or anything. The comment just took me by surprise, and then started a ripple effect which wouldn't stop.

A few hours after this particular conversation, I got some news from home that was a little less than positive. It was nothing too serious, but I would call it 'disappointing.' Hearing the news, I gauged how I thought I should have felt, or how I thought anybody else would have felt, and then how I actually felt, and there was a pretty big disparity between the two. I realized how numb I've become to bad news. Maybe 'numb' isn't the right word, but it's as close as I'll be to come to it. I'm beginning to think that the 'numbness' has a connection to how hesitant I am in accepting affection. I automatically downplay things in my mind to make them seem less extreme, to include bad news, feelings, stress, etc.

I'm really starting to sound like a weirdo right about now.

I guess the point of this entry is that I have a lot of walls up that I need to take down. At the same time, though, those walls have helped me survive a lot of really tough crap, and I'm really hesitant to take them down. I wish there was an equation for just how much of the wall I should leave intact, so that I could avoid most of the 'hurt' but still let some good stuff in once in a while.

And there is is. Binged. Purged. It's all out. Finally.

And I'm spent.

"Do we always have to listen to this elevator music?"

"Do we always have to listen to this elevator music?"

The quote's from American Beauty, a genius of a movie about the pitfalls of suburbia. It refers to the music the mother, played ever so brilliantly by Annette Benning, insists on playing over dinner every night.

I've been asking myself this same question ever since I heard the quote. Except, my elevator music isn't elevator music at all. My elevator music is mind games, mind games specific to behavior around guys.

A while back, I had a conversation with someone I used to date. I'd liked him for a while before the actual dating started, and I thought I was more than obvious about it. According to him, though, he thought I hated him. This isn't the first time I've heard this. I've heard similar things from everyone from my friends to other guys I've liked. Even my junior year English teacher who, to this day, is my hero, told me that I was "always hard to read," and that she could never tell whether I liked the class or not.

I've never been your classic flirt. I hate feeling like I'm transparent like that unless I'm positive that a guy likes me back. I don't know whether it's a weakness or a strength, or what to think about it, exactly. All I know is that the elevator music has to stop eventually.

And that's all I got.

Memorializing

This post is dedicated to the men and women of the armed forces on this grand Memorial Day.

I want to say 'thank you' for all the sacrifices you make for me, for my family, and for your families.

I come from a long line of military service. All 3 of my grandfathers served in WWII, one in the Navy, one earning a Purple Heart, and one serving as a medic in Iwo Jimo at the age of 19. They're some of the most incredible men I know, and their stories are even more incredible.

My father has served in the military for the past 25+ years. He's served in 2 wars and completed his 4th tour in the Middle East last year. He's made countless sacrifices, and gone through more than any human should ever have to, and I'm eternally grateful for everything he's done.

I love him, and I'm more than proud to call him 'Papa.'

Happy Memorial Day.
Never forget.

Caitie.

Text Conversation:

Caitie: So what chu writing on that blog o yours?
Annalee: I dunno yet. Any ideas?
Caitie: Dedicate an entire entry to me.

So here it goes...

My first memory of Caitie is in Sunday School, about 11 years ago. The class was sitting in chairs lined along the the walls of the classroom, and I was sitting diagonally from Caitie. I don't remember what the lesson was on, or who was teaching it. All I remember is Caitie sitting there with her scripture case full of candy. Not sharing. I was instantly annoyed with her, and let that annoyance fester over the next couple of years, even after she moved away.

The next time I remember seeing Caitie was walking down the halls of Lees Corner Elementary School. I was returning to class, and I saw her. Standing there. Sharpening her pencil. I don't remember why I was in the hall, or what she or I was wearing, or if I said 'hi,' or waved. All I remember is the annoyance...which I promptly let fester for another couple of years.

I don't remember exactly when we became friends, or why. All I remember are late nights at Caitie's house, playing Sims, making fake commercials, eating inordinate amounts of cookie dough ice cream, and laughing. Always laughing.

This is where is gets cheesy.

Ever since that one summer, we've been best friends. We may have been an ocean apart most of the time, but we always knew the other one was there. Then, each summer, we'd pick up where we left off. She's been a constant in my life ever since the 7th grade, the longest friendship I've ever had. It's literally spanned decades and continents. It's sustained weeks without being able to talk, camping trips that made us hate each other, boys, schools, good times, bad times, all of it. She's one of the few people I know I can count on, and I can't think of anyone I'd rather call my best friend.

And here it is, the Top Ten Things I Love About Caitie Metts:

10. Her sense of style, which is fearless. She can pull anything off.
9. Her addiction to ice. It makes me feel better about my addiction to carbonation.
8. Her sense of adventure. She's up for anything, anytime, with anyone.
7. The laughter. Oh the laughter...
6. The fact that we can go from deep, meaningful conversations, to joking about stupid stuff in 5 minutes.
5. She's a smart cookie, about a million times smarter than people realize at first.
4. Her caring side. She's one of the most compassionate people I know. She's the perfect aunt, and she's gonna make an amazing mother.
3. She can find the good in anyone, and make fun of the ridiculous in them too.
2. Her unpredictability. When that mouth opens, there's no telling what's gonna come out.
1. She's my best friend! I love her, I would do anything for her, and I don't know where I would be without her.

Alsotherewasthisonetimeshestartedsnoringlikearhinoandkeptmeupallnightlongitwashilarious!


I love you, Caitie Metts!

Window in the Skies

Every once in a while I get the feeling like I'm not myself. I feel detached from my surroundings, like a foreign entity. I start to feel very strange, and start looking for something familiar. It happens pretty frequently, especially as I spend more and more time away from home, or even when I am home and I don't exactly feel like I belong there. It's something comparable to loneliness, but not loneliness in the sense that I wish that I had someone or something to lean on. It's purely statistical, like I'm one person out of trillions. Alone. In a very stark sense. I'm not explaining this right. I know I'm not.

Anyways, whenever I start feeling this way I start looking for familiar things, things that remind me of home, or even familiar feelings. Sometimes it's a movie, or calling home that does it. But, the most effective method is music, and the most effective peace of music is "Window in the Skies" by U2. It's one of my all-time favorite songs for several reasons. I grew up on U2. My oldest brother and my dad were big fans of them when I was young, and I thought if I liked them too, that I would somehow be part of the 'club.' Somewhere along the way, I started liking them too. Another big part of it is the music video. The music video is comprised of clips of different singers lip-synching the song, everyone from Nat King Cole to Jimi Hendrix to Green Day. It's my favorite music video of all time, and odd as it may sound, it made me cry the first time I saw it. I'm gonna regret writing that later...

The reason I write this is because today I was going through one of these 'spells.' I didn't feel particularly like myself for whatever reason, and felt a little detached from everything around me. I was walking home from class around 5:30, down the hill from campus on the way to my apartment, when 'Window in the Skies' came on my iPod. Immediately I started feeling like myself again. I snapped back into the present, and became exponentially happier. I started to think about my family, about the fact that I'm a part of something bigger than myself even if only through this song. It's the ultimate quixotic anthem, which I know can have a negative connotation. To me, though, being quixotic is the essence of life. It's being hopeful, even to a foolish degree, which is what we all need from time to time.

So here it is:

'Window in the Skies' by U2

The shackles are undone
The bullets quit the gun
The heat thats in the sun
Will keep us when there's none

The rule has been disproved
The stone has been moved
The grain is now a groove
All debts are removed, ooh

Oh can't you see what our love has done
Oh can't you see what our love has done
Oh can't you see what our love has done
What it's doing to me

Love makes strange enemies
Makes love when love may please
Soul in a strip tease
Hate brought to its knees

Sky over our head
Can reach it from our bed
If you let me in your heart
And out of my head

Oh can't you see what our love has done
Oh can't you see what our love has done
Oh can't you see what our love has done
What it's doing to me

Oh oh ohhhhhhhhhhhh
Oh oh ohhhhhhhhhhhh
Please don't ever let me out of here

I've got no shame
Oh no oh no

Oh can't you see what love has done
Oh can't you see
Oh can't you see what love has done
What it's doing to me

Oh I know I hurt you and I made you cry
Did everything but murder but you and I
But love left a window in the skies
And to love I rhapsodize

Oh can't you see what love has done (to every broken heart)
Oh can't you see what love has done (for every heart that cries)
Love left a window in the skies
And to love I rhapsodize

Oh can't you see

And please bless...

This is my prayer template for the time-being...

Please:

1. Help me to wake up on time tomorrow morning.
2. Let me like the color of my hair when I wake up.
3. Give me the motivation I need to do homework.
4. Don't let my feet die on me. I really like running...
5. Let me find the right internship for Fall. LA would be nice.
6. Don't let me give in to my desire to cut my hair.
7. Stop these stupid breakouts. Seriously.
8. Bring back Arrested Development.
9. Don't let it snow in Rexburg anymore.
10. Let this week go by fast.

Thank You for (in no particular order):

1. My job. I love it. No matter how much I might complain, or wish that a student cancels.
2. My friends. Near and far.
3. Not letting my hair fall out after this millionth dye job.
4. Letting me run again. I forgot how good it feels.
5. My iPod. My hero.
6. The World Cup. Only 3 more weeks.
7. Asian food. This is self-explanatory.
8. My family. I don't know what we did to deserve each other, but I can't imagine being a part of any other family.
9. Kids. They make everything better. Everything.
10. The church. Also self-explanatory.

Favorites

I haven't done one of these in a while...

Top Ten Favorite Movies:

1. When Harry Met Sally
2. Shawshank Redemption
3. The Mission
4. Dumb and Dumber
5. Silence of the Lambs
6. Little Miss Sunshine
7. Pride and Prejudice
8. Godfather
9. The Sure Thing
10. The Royal Tenenbaums
11. Casino Royale

Top Ten Favorite Chick Flicks:

1. Father of the Bride
2. Waitress
3. Sixteen Candles
4. Pretty Woman
5. Where the Heart Is
6. Say Anything
7. One Fine Day
8. Bridget Jones Diary
9. Devil Wears Prada
10. Love, Actually
11. Down With Love

Top Ten Favorite Books:

1. Kite Runner
2. Year of Magical Thinking
3. Man's Search for Meaning
4. Catch Me If You Can
5. Leaves of Grass
6. Me Talk Pretty One Day
7. A Spy for All Seasons
8. Dress Your Family in Corderoy and Denim
9. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
10. The Sun Also Rises

Top Ten Favorite Bands/Artists:

1. U2
2. Jimi Hendrix
3. John Mayer
4. Paul Simon
5. The Killers
6. Taylor Swift
7. The Shins
8. Beyonce
9. Ennio Morricone
10. Coldplay
11. The Bravey
13. Beck


That felt good.

Euro-trash

So every semester, I feel like there's one class that doesn't mesh well with the others, the class that you don't like going to, that makes you feel like throwing up every single time the thought of that class enters your mind. EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.

This semester it's Modern European History. I thought I was going to enjoy the class when I first signed up for it. It fulfills the history requirement for my Poli Sci minor, and my family's planning on going to Europe at the end of the Summer, so I figured it would all fit. But, I'm starting to regret it. It's not that the class is awful, it's just that it has no structure- and I don't like the final project. That, and it's at a time of the day when I would much rather be working or doing homework.

BUT- I just looked up the academic schedule, and the last day to drop classes without receiving a 'W' was yesterday... Let the character building commence.

In other news, all the other classes are going really well. They're all pretty chill, with the exception of Advanced International Relations, which has a lot of social capital involved. It's hard to get a word in sometimes, but at least it's interesting, and Brother Adamson is the man.

ALSO, it's snowing. It's May 6th, 2010, and it's snowing.

ALSO, ALSO, I should probably recap the weekend. Friday night I went to Idaho Falls with Scotty, Russell, and Ryan to a place called the Snakebite. SO GOOD. It's a sort of hole in the wall type of place with a really tight atmosphere. It's super small with only a few waiters, and some f the best food I've had for a while. Anyways, I highly recommend it.
Saturday morning (I'm talking 3 am) I made the trek to Salt Lake to meet Dad for his birthday. I got there around 8, and slept in until around 11, then Dad and I woke up and we went out to lunch at Marie Callendars. We talked for somewhere around 2 hours. It was so nice just to sit and talk with him without any interferences or distractions. I forgot how much I missed him. Afterwards we went to the Gateway to pick up some shoes for church the next day, and then to Barnes and Noble. I got a new book of memoirs, and he picked up some Sudoku for the plane. That night the whole family got together for Dad's birthday- it was really nice to see everyone again (at least everyone that showed up. cough, cough...) We chilled out and talked over pizza, played with LOUIE VITO'S DOG! Anyways, the next morning, Dad and I woke up too late for church, so we stayed home and watched Master and Commander, then we had Dad's birthday dinner and I left for Rexburg again...which wouldn't be a huge deal if my shuttle home wasn't taken over by a girl who decided to make herself the ring-leader of the 11 GIRLS who were on the shuttle with me. For 4 hours, all I heard was her trying to one-up people. It was entertaining, but incredibly annoying. And now, I'm back at school, not ready at all for classes.

And I'm spent.


Quote of the Day:

"Think constantly, both as Roman and as a man, to do the task before you with perfect and simple dignity, and with kindness, freedom, and justice. Try to forget everything else. And you will be able to do so if you undetake every action in your life as if it were your last, leaving aside all negligence and the opposition of passion to the dictates of reason, and leaving aside all hypocrisy, egotism, and rebelliousness against your own lot." -Marcus Aurelius

"Think constantly, both as Roman and as a man, to do the task before you with perfect and simple dignity, and with kindness, freedom, and justice. Try to forget everything else. And you will be able to do so if you undetake every action in your life as if it were your last, leaving aside all negligence and the opposition of passion to the dictates of reason, and leaving aside all hypocrisy, egotism, and rebelliousness against your own lot."

The man may have persecuted thousands of Christians, but he knew his stuff.

RIP

As I sit here typing, my computer is dying.

Pop ups keep coming up.
Spyware's failing and out of date.
Infiltration Alerts everywhere.

I've had this puppy for 3 long, glorious years. It's like family. Sure it's a little slow, but it's a good slow. Like old Uncle Earl who just sits on the couch all day until Thanksgiving dinner is ready, or the blonde sister who's the last to laugh at every joke.

I've had some good times with this computer. I wrote my first college paper on it. I've emailed countless people. Downloaded a million songs. Watched a thousand episodes of trashy TV.

I don't know if I'm ready to say goodbye.

But it looks like it's about that time.


So farewell, little Inspiron. I'll miss ya....buddy.


*Charlie Brown Christmas Music playing*

20x20

So I was in Russian Literature on Wednesday, and my teacher said something that stuck with me. He was giving the speech that every English-type teacher gives about speaking up in class: everyone has something worthwhile to say, there's no wrong answer, I'm not the only one with an opinion... that kind of stuff. And then he said,

"There are 20 of you in this class. And with an average age of about 20, that's 400 years of experience. That 400 years has more to say than I do."

The quote sorta punched me in the face. I've always had this idea of people as more than what we see in the present, but I'd never been able to phrase it quite like that. I was so happy when he said it! It was the perfect summation of this mentality I've always had, and one that's kind of saved my life. One of my favorite quotes from Ralph Waldo Emerson says that there's very little you can learn from yourself; there's SO much more we can learn from other people. Back then I thought Emerson was the man. I thought of him as this genius who stooped down to the level of others so that he could learn about life. But looking back I realize how ridiculous that was. He wasn't 'stooping down' to the lowly dairy farmer or the town cooper so that he could learn from them, he realized that they had just as much to offer as he did. Emerson could write and think and hypothesize like no one's business, but he probably couldn't have run a dairy farm to save his life.

I've tried to adapt that to my own life, especially since moving to Idaho, where I'm surrounded by 12 types of crazy at any given time (and I kinda love it). My first couple of months in Idaho I found myself making a lot of snap judgments about people. It was a bad combination of home-sickness and Northern Virginian pride (which we have pretty badly...). Since then I've really tried to be less judgmental, and give people the benefit of the doubt, because I'm sure the person wearing the all-denim outfit with a monument for a belt-buckle could probably school me in a million-and-one different things. I feel kind of like Shaun Brumder from Orange County, not so much the beginning of the movie, but the end where he realizes that being surrounded by all the crazy is actually the perfect environment for him. Not that I feel like this person stuck with a bunch of crazy people all the time, or anything like that...but you get my point.

Quote of the Day:
"Maybe it's a sign...you're just not responsible enough to be a mother...irony?" -Caitie Metts

Holy crap.

It's been almost a year since I've written anything on this. So much has change since then I don't even know where to start. Tomorrow's the beginning of my 6th semester at BYU-I. No one knows how that happened. By this time next year, if all goes according to plan, I'll be finished with college. I know it sounds cliched but WHERE DOES TIME GO? I feel like I should be graduating from high school this year, not college.

Anycrap, I've had a lot on my mind the last couple of days. My head won't stop churning out new questions for me to think about. Some of them I don't mind thinking about, like "How do they make gumballs?" And then there are the heavier ones, the kind make me so anxious I can't go running (which is super annoying by the way. I wish I were one of those people who could completely clear my head while I ran). This year seems to be THE year, the year where I have to have everything figured out. I know that's not completely realistic, but there are so many forks in the road this year, and I feel like I have to make just the right decision at each of them.

For instance: To go on a mission, or not to go on a mission.

Growing up I never really thought I'd go on a mission. I never ruled it out, but the thought of going on one never quite clicked in my mind. Recently, though, it's been on my mind more and more. Spending a year and a half in a completely new place, meeting new people, focusing on the gospel with no distractions, helping people sounds pretty nice to me right about now. On the other hand, completely removing myself from college/friends/family for a year and a half scares me to death. I know it sounds selfish, or at least it feels selfish, but it's a genuine concern. I know I wouldn't regret serving one, and I know the blessings that come from a mission are well worth it, but I keep thinking of everything I would miss at home.
On the other hand, figuring out what to do with my life if I don't go on a mission isn't much more appealing. I've never been this unfocused in my life. I've always had a pretty good idea of what I wanted to do: work for the government, travel, have a family, etc. But, a couple semesters ago I had sort of an epiphany. I love learning about government, the history behind it, how it works, all the little intricacies that go into it. I know that if I wanted to, I could do pretty well for myself living that kind of life. But when I think about desk-work, commuting, politics, all that kind of stuff, my excitement shuts off. I would much rather do work that I'm absolutely, 100% passionate about.
SO. I switched my major to English, which isn't a huge change from Poli Sci, and I can go pretty much anywhere with it. So far I love it. I can write all I want (more than I want), and read, and analyze, and discuss, and create. It's helped me so much as a writer and a communicator in general. The only problem is where I go with it. I would love to work for the entertainment industry doing writing or editing or something else creative. Dad thinks I should have a newspaper column somewhere. There are all these possibilities swirling around and all I have to do is go for ONE, but the thought of choosing just one is so incredibly daunting.
I've also thought a lot about teaching abroad. It would satisfy pretty much every desire I have for my future life. I LOVE the idea of traveling as part of my career. I want to do and see as much as possible. The only problem is trying to create a family, or any kind of relationship, around that kind of lifestyle. I don't want to be one of those moms who hires a nanny and never sees her kids, or does long-distance relationships all the time. And I don't want anyone to feel like they'd have to compromise anything just so I could fulfill my own need to travel all the time.
I've noticed this kind of mentality seeping into other areas of my life, especially with school. When I'm in school, I like to be completely dedicated to school. I absolutely hate feeling like I haven't given 100% to my school/homework. I never want to feel like I could've done better. With that, though, comes certain sacrifices. I haven't been the best at dedicating time to my friends or my relationships. It's not really fair to anyone, and I hate that I'd ever even consider putting school before them, but if I only get to do college once, I want to do it right. There's also that little fear in the back of my head that I won't be able to get as much schooling as I want too. My goal is to get a Masters, possibly in English. I think getting a Masters degree would quench any educational desires I have, or at least make me sick of school enough to get on with my life and get a job. But if something ever came up, where I couldn't go that far, I want to know that the effort I put into school here in college would suffice.
Anyways, I feel like I'm rambling... I'm gonna end this while my thoughts are still somewhat lucid. And I'll try to update again before 2011.

Quote of the Day:
"Better start selling my lightbulbs." -Mary Alice