I Hate Rexburg.

Okay, so this is a hate post. Ready, go.

I hate Rexburg. I hate the weather. I hate the dry air. I hate the infernal wind that blows in every direction every minute of the day. I hate the snow. I hate the mist that messes up your good hair day. I hate the culture of "Get married now. You fail if you don't get hitched." I hate it. I hate it all.

The other day, I decided that eight years from now, when I get married and have to choose where to live, I will live somewhere humid, warm, and beautiful. Never again will I choose to live in a place that is so dry that it makes my hair nasty and full of static. Never again will I live in a place so dry that it gives me Eczema all over my left arm. Never again will I live in a place that inspires me to never get ready, because the moment you step outside, the rain, mist, sleet, slush, or snow eternally messes up your hair. Never again will I live in a place where I have to lather my body up with lotion each day so that I don't die of dry skin. Never again do I care to live in a place that makes my legs look like the Grand Canyon. Never again do I want to live in this wretched little place called Rexburg. No, I won't say anything nice about it. Don't make me. Thank you, and goodnight.

Ode to Blaine

So yesterday, I went on a date with Eric. Eric is cute. I like him a lot. Eric likes me. We are dating. And it is fun. Yesterday, when we were walking to Pita Pit, we passed a man on a skate board. While attempting to be awesome, this man, we'll call him Blaine, hit a rock, went flying, and rolled to his almost death. Now, poor Blaine's pride was certainly wounded, as was his right shoulder. But instead of being kind, considerate and Christ-like people, Eric and I had to turn the corner immediately because we were laughing so hard. We are sinners. It's fine. This little experience made me realize a few things. First, I love life; it's just funny. Second, I will never ever skate board. Third, I'm a horrible person. Please bless Blaine, and my twisted soul. Thank you, and goodnight.

Awesome.

Okay, so today was a super awesome morning. I got up extra early because I had a lot to do before my first class at 12:45. I got up and got moving, which was a tender mercy in and of itself because guess who forgot to set their alarm? Um, yep. It's fine. So I decided to be ambitious with my hair today, and I did it curly. Well, I didn't have my glasses on when I was curling it, and because I'm awesome I burned the side of my neck... now it kind of looks like a have a hickey. Which is completely false, thank you very much, but alas. It's awesome. And of course I can't properly cover it up because I am in fact out of concealer. It's fine. Love today. Whatev, I say to myself laughing a little bit. That happened. I got all ready, and opened my front door. It was pouring. Awesome sauce. I was so mad. So go back and change into something slightly more grungy and put my hair up, exposing my false hickey burn to the world. Then I battle the elements on the way to the library and fight for a Mac. Luckily I win, but the battle continues as I fight for the printer to work. 5 trips to the Copy Spot later, I finally print off my rough draft for Visual Media. It's been an awesome morning. I heart rain. And curling iron burns. And faulty printers. Thank you, and goodnight. 

Pandemic

So the word "Pandemic" is in our everyday vocabulary. Indeed, I cannot seem to make it through the day without hearing about the Swine Flu at least thrice. Now, remember how I am kind of a germaphob anyways... it's fine. But lately all of this talk about H1N1 is stressing me out. Is it bad that now, whenever anyone tells me they are not feeling well, I instinctively lean as far away from them as possible without being too offensive? Is it bad that when someone coughs I want to apply hand sanitizer faster than a speeding bullet? Or if someone tells me that they have been throwing up, it takes every ounce in me not to run from the room? Is that bad? Oh, and I love it how when someone tells you they have been sick you automatically worry about yourself. "Oh snap. How am I feeling? Okay? Sick? Like I have Swine Flu?" It's a problem. 

BYU-Idaho keeps sending out emails each week compelling the students to stay home if they are sick. The professors have been told to be very lenient about people missing class due to Swine Flu... bless them. It seems as if once a day in at least one of my classes my professor announces that a number of our class emailed him, and are sick with the Swine. While this is an awesome precaution, I have my doubts about its effectiveness. This is why: 

The other day at work a man comes in to take his Biology 276 exam. He looks rough. Granted, most people do look rough when they come to the Testing Center of Death, but we give them a break. It's scary here. Yet, this man looked worse than just the regular "I'm-taking-a-test-rough..." He was pale, sweaty, and his eyes were a little bit glazed over with a faint look as if he was going towards some far distant light. No bueno. Then I observed this man a little closer. He was panting, and gasping for breath. Indeed, he had just climbed the stairs of death, and was slightly portly, but I should not have felt like I needed to call 911 to put this man on oxygen. He then approaches me at the printer and is leaning on the counter in an attempt to support his rapidly declining body. Instinctively I cringe away, and hold his test out for him putting as much space in between us as possible. Then he coughs a little, tells me he can't use anything on his test, and saunters into the testing room. I thought I should pray for him, but I washed my hands instead. It was pretty intense, and all I wanted to do was make him go home and go to bed. 

Indeed, I don't know how affective these new precautions will be. It's people like our Biology 276 friend who like to contaminate us all. So take heart, and use Purell. Thank you, and goodnight. 

Sin Scale

On a sin scale of one to ten, ten being oh let's say Exaltation, and one being oh I don't know, Damnation, how bad is it that history bores me to tears? Granted, it is very important, and yes it has shaped today, yet I cannot take it. I'm ready to pound my skull into my keyboard in utter protest, and thereby cause quite a stir in my Intro to Journalism class. I don't really care how Madison's and Jefferson's writings led to the civil war; I don't care about federal usurpations; I don't care about how Alexander Hansen experienced anger towards the Alien and Sedition Acts. I know that I should, but I cannot. As I look around the room, I find the same feelings of animosity towards the 1700s emanating from 87% of my classmates bodies. Some have just flat out fallen asleep and are untroubled. Bless them. Now don't get me wrong, I love Journalism, it's true, but in learning about its history I would so much rather talk about Bob Woodward, and Carl Bernstein, and "Deep Throat;" let's talk about Watergate, people. That's far more fascinating. Or maybe Nellie Bly, because I'm not gonna lie, I want to be her when I grow up. It's fine. So maybe I'm just a bad person; don't worry- God will punish me. Thank you, and goodnight. 

That Happened.

Right, so we are discussing the history of music as a massed produced form of media. Heidi and I got a little too into it. As we listened to Bill Haley and the Comets getting their groove on to "Rock Around the Clock," we too decided to get our groove on. In the middle of class. It was divine. Be jealous. Thank you, and goodnight. 

Apathy

Current mood: apathetic. 

Thank you, and goodnight. 

Death by Testing

So I'm at work right now, and I feel a little something like this. Annoyed with the world, while bemoaning my current state, feeling slightly despondent. Yes, I am at the Testing Center of death. Yes, I am fully aware that it is in fact Saturday morning, and I should indeed be tucked up in bed. Alas, I am not. Instead I walked through the frozen tundra of Rexburg where there this wretched thing called wind blows you about in every direction. What the St. Francis? I don't mind this shift when it comes right down to it. Working from 7:30 to 12:30 gives me my whole day, which is lovely. However, it takes me until about 10 to wake up...it's fine. I'm not mad. But that leaves the problem of me being dead to the world for the first two and a half hours of work. Sorry students of BYU-I, but seriously, what the crap are you doing out of bed that early when you don't have to be? Celebrate your youth. Stay home so I can too. Thank you, and goodnight.  

Not a Narcissist

So this one time... not this semester, I was highly bored. Naturally, I decided to make a collage of myself. No, I'm not a narcissist. I was just trying to pass time. Don't judge me. 

Thank you, and goodnight. 

Are we Done? I Want to Play.

This is what it's like in COMM 140 sometimes. Heidi and I have three classes together. Bless her. D&C is amazing, and blows my mind every time. Mass Media is fun, but sometimes, mostly on Fridays, I feel like this. "Are we done yet? I want to play." That is what this face says. Are we done? I want to play. Don't get me wrong. I love my classes, but Fridays are hard. Fridays I'm in love, and I don't want to have to sit in a classroom all day. So we'll keep on keepin' on; we'll endure to the end. Pray for us. Thank you, and goodnight. 

Dillema of My Heart

Okay, so I'm sitting in my English 311 class right now, the thoughts of failure swirling around in my skull. Not the best way to start the day, but that's okay- I'm not mad. For the life of me, I don't know how I'm going to accomplish everything for this class that is required for an A. I would drop down to a B, but then I have a flash back that goes a little something like this:

I'm back in 6th grade in that wretched little place called Minnesota. Sitting, crying my eyes out, so sad that I was doing so poorly in all of my classes. I was trying to talk to the School Counselor, hoping that he would help a sister out. False. He told me, in my weepy condition, that I would never be an A student. I was more of a B or C student, and that's all I would ever be. Well, Johnny Raincloud, I would love to show you my 4.0 senior year, thank you very much. I'll punch you in the face, and then show you all of the A's on my report card. Jerk.

So this little bit of baggage from my past has caused me to be very hesitant to get a B. (Unless it's Science, then anything goes...) But this is English! I can write! This shouldn't be a problem. I suppose what I am saying is that I am full of pride. I can't get a B in this class... although I just might have to in order to save my sanity. It's the dilemma of my heart right now, and all I have to push me forward is that wretched School Counselor from that wretched town in Minnesota telling me I'll never be awesome. That just might be enough. Thank you, and goodnight.

Saturday's Warrior

Okay, so today I saw for the first time ever, Saturday's Warrior. What the heck. Who made that? 

"Saturday's Warrior is a popular Latter-day Saint musical written by Douglas Stewart and Lex de Azevedo. It was first performed in California in 1973 as a college project. 

"In 1989, Bob Williams made a video version of the musical, keeping it true to the original play, and setting it on a stage as opposed to giving the movie a more naturalistic look. It is among the first popular LDS films to not be made or sponsored by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints or Brigham Young University." 

Thank you, wikipedia. 

Needless to say, this was the worst movie I have ever seen in my life. At least four times, I found myself saying out loud, "False!" This was a rather large misrepresentation. No one promises to marry each other in the Pre-existence. Who wrote that? Oh, right, Douglas Stewart and Lex de Azevedo. Good job guys. I laughed out loud on more than one occasion where it was entirely inappropriate; my bad. By the end of the film I was laughing harder than I have in a long time. Oh snap, Bob Williams. Bless your heart, but what were you thinking? Pretty sure there are no fog machines in the Pre-existence for us to dance around in. Just saying, but nice touch. 

Please bless that I never have to watch that movie ever again. Thank you, and goodnight. 

Go Ahead

So I think that being a Journalist is going to be good for my overall source of knowledge. Already I'm a vault of wonderful facts. Go ahead, ask me anything about the parking in Rexburg. I will give you codes, names, quotes, statistics, bills, regulations, procedures, policies, the works. I can give you statistics for the Residential Parking as well as University Parking. I can tell you how many permits a week are being released, and I can tell you how many lots are on the BYU-Idaho campus. 

Not only does my knowledge encompass parking, but I can tell you about the building sites in Rexburg as well. Do you know which areas are switching from Low Density Residential to High Density Residential? I do, and I can show you on a map. 

I can tell you a lot about the 2016 Olympic bids, and I have a pretty good knowledge about what is happening in Indonesia. Next time you're thinking of a battle of current events, or have any questions about parking, call me. Thank you, and goodnight. 

Please Bless

Right, so last night was a little stressful. You know how there was that big tsunami in Indonesia? Yeah, well part of it also hit the Philippines, not far from where Drew is serving. That induced a little bit of panic, and possibly some tears. It's fine. Missionaries can't die, right? That's against the rules of the Church, right? I know that God can do all things, but it still didn't stop fear and anxiety from gripping my heart. 

Dear Drew, 

Please be safe. Please come home to me, and be alright. Please bless, please bless. 

Love, 

Emmilie

So here's a little hope for Drew. Be safe and keep spreading the gospel. Thank you, and goodnight.