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.