top o' the mornin'

6:30 AM: hit snooze

6:45 AM: hit snooze, again.

7:00 AM: "

7:07 AM: roll out of bed

7:15 AM: eat toast, drink water bottle, take some pills

7:44 AM: arrive at 5K starting point. Really, really have to pee. Can't find a restroom... hell

8:01 AM: start 5K

8:09 AM: mile 1 done. Have to pee a lot.

8:30 AM: finish run. Knee brace is sweaty. Gross. Where is that restroom???

9 AM: Have coffee

10 AM: clean entire house (sections that are delegated to me, at least)

11: 22 AM: facebook and blog. 

productive morning. I usually wake up around 11AM. 

ridiculous weather and DOMS

I ran 7 miles today. 4 in the morning, but then it got hot and Rusty looked like he was on the verge of death so we came home. 3 more at night. I felt tired, and it didn't help that I was running into the wind and getting soaked because the intermediate gusts of wind that I hit at the beginning of my run quickly turned in to a thunderstorm. Rusty did not appreciate being dragged outside when there was a chance he could get struck by lightning. He kept us at a faster pace than usual.

I am going to run a 5K in the morning with my dad, although he says he will be walking. I was excited about that an hour ago but now my calves feel tight, which I would have blamed on lactic acid but wikipedia has corrected my assumption. Don't tell people that I wiki often.

I'll just go sleep it off, hopefully.

I have a friend named Bonas who was infamous for telling us to "wiki that shit" during debate tournaments, and would then insert a more credible source in his speech. You'd be surprised what brilliant people get away with. No one questions you when you are winning a round.

king of pop

so if you haven't heard, Michael Jackson died. Although, I seriously doubt that you hadn't heard.

Here is the thing, I don't understand the excessive amount of public outcry. Let me explain.

There are few who really knew this man, so what the masses are actually mourning is the loss of his music, and his status as an icon.

I started mourning these things years ago. He hasn't made any music for (circa) 15 years, and I think his status as a positive role model or inspiring icon was pretty much shot to hell after plastic/"corrective" surgery #163 and his numerous accusations of pedophilia.

And if anything, his status the King of Pop has probably become solidified through his death because he can no longer do anything to offend, shock, or dismay his loyal fans.

All that to say, he was a genius- before he wasn't.

I cried when Heath Ledger died.

Twitter

Actual arguments (in comparison to my personal to-tweet or not-to-tweet internal conflict) from NYT about the use of Twitter in  communications, media criticism,  and as an autonomous tool. Gives both the negative and positive aspects to reliance on the tweets of others. Arguments against are similar to those that oppose wikipedia. 

I am deeply saddened for the protestors in Iran.

just dreamin'

I drove by a wonderful bookstore the other day. Thing is, I'm not sure if I dreamt this or not. 

I hope not. 

Ran 4 miles with Rusty last night. It felt great. I don't know what's going on here, I don't really like to run. Or so I thought. But I had a great time last night. Rusty was a great partner for the first 3.5 miles-  and then he got tired and almost yanked my arm out of its socket when he decided he needed a break. Still better than the bike ride fiasco.

I still don't understand tweeting. I think it funny that people believe their lives are so interesting that they need to provide a play-by-play for all of their "followers". I figure it obnoxious of myself to assume people will want to know what I am doing all the time. But I do blog, and it's kind of the same thing, I guess. 

I thought about getting Rusty a twitter account, then I realize that during my unemployment his agenda is the same as mine- so I'd be cheating my own beliefs. 

People should read Ashley's blog. Artistic Soul.

I applied at a restaurant yesterday. Totally caved.

funny how things change. or don't.

I would not recognize her if I saw her today. She was seventeen when she stepped onto the campus; doe-eyed, impatient, eager, utterly self conscious, and unjustifiably confident.

But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve for daws to peck at: I am not what I am.

She was an oxymoron, if it is possible to apply such a tenuous and overbearing literary term to a human being.

When I look at pictures and recall memories from only four short years passed, it is impossible to deny the transformation of being that has occurred.

And, after all, what is a lie? ‘Tis but the truth in masquerade.

My experience does not reflect the norm or stereotypical experience of the twenty-something melodrama portrayed in films, novels, or sensationalized biographies. It is, however, a tumultuous narrative of one woman’s journey to an elevated sense of self and heightened awareness of her capability to impact an evolving and yet disintegrating social order.

            College alone should not be considered a rite of passage. The rite journey cannot be without struggle, opposition, and triumph.  Attendance alone does not offer these things. Simple attendance without interaction, involvement, and true engagement is a piteous and feeble attempt to garner what true experience can be had during the college experience.

 I have survived broken relationships, a home reduced to ashes, my parents struggle to avoid brokenness in the delicate destitute for reprieve, my family’s assaulted business, and countless other gruesome attacks and unravelings of the very fibers that construct my being, all the while trying to assimilate into the undergraduate lifestyle.

I have full cause of weeping, but this heart / Shall break into a hundred thousand flaws / Or ere I'll weep.

However, what I once considered a splicing of soul is now beginning to tear at the scarred flesh and surface as callous, a marker of survival, independence, and relationships.

If, while in the academic community, one is able to foster true relationships, develop a personal moral and ethical code, endeavor to live beyond reproach, whilst all the while striving to awaken ones soul through intellectual stimulation even in the midst suffering, then the journey is both telling and worthwhile.

            Freshmen year I entered into friendships that I know will be long lasting. I also lost friendships from previous encounters. This was the first signifier of growth. I learned what it is to become vulnerable, into the very depths of my soul, and realize hurts that had been sequestered into the crevices of my mind.

My faith consumes my being, and having to withhold that part of myself in my past did not allow me to fully realize who I am and therefore I was unable to share myself with others.

Beauty is mysterious as well as terrible. God and devil are fighting there and the battlefield is the heart of man.

I also found that my story is valuable to others and that humanity in general has much more in common than what is ordinarily claimed. However, these similarities we share and the norms we adhere to do not necessitate that the individual cannot be recognized for being uniquely crafted.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made

 It is at this point in finding oneself that the existential angst is first experienced.

government jobs

Careerbuilders.com told me to pursue a government job. The job description made it seem as though everyone who is employed or in some way affiliated with the Dept. of Labor is extremely happy, and graciously compensated.

Following my recent trip to the Post Office I would have to say that this is false advertising. 

None of those people were happy. They were not patient. They were not forgiving or understanding. They do, however, have this amazing capabilty to make you feel worthless in less than 30 seconds, which is about all the time one is alloted to send out 36 different parcels. Anything more than that is just asking too much.

And how the hell am I supposed to know how much my parcel weighs? They're the ones with a scale within arms reach, not I.

Freudian

What does it mean when you have a reoccurring nightmare that consists of losing one's teeth.

Check this: Last night I dreamt that I was warming up for a high school basketball game (please note, I graduated a while ago) and during the warm up my teeth begin to implode. I'm talking teeth grinding, shattering, falling out... it was horrible. Right before I'm about to step onto the court, two of my front teeth just fall out, which was horrible and detrimental to my self esteem. While I am trying to explain this disturbing and rather disgusting phenomena to my mother, my molar cracks in two and then falls out of my mouth. I leave the basketball court with three less teeth than when the dream first begun.

I woke up and touched each and every tooth in my possession. They are fine. In fact, I was wearing my retainer last night- they couldn't have possibly gone anywhere- but I was still mortified when I woke up.

Any dream analysts out there? Care to explain what my psyche is trying to tell me?

I-day

I took an I-day today. Introvert day. Needed to recharge. Not that I have done anything than can be regarded as strenuous  in the past month.

Here is what I concluded:

I am so glad I got to talk to a friend about [life] last night. Reality check, reassurance, affirmation, and humor all in one conversation.

I miss my floor sons, my roomies, and the freshie family. I miss the whole community.

A Thousand Splendid Suns is a beautiful, challenging, depressing, and enlightening read. I am glad there was a bit of redemption at the end. I knew a lot about the history of Afghanistan due to my involvement in forensics, but this made it much more real and personal. I feel as though the gruesome depiction of Afghanistan in the past 40 years is much more horrid and unjust than whatever debate case we threw together. I almost resent the fact that I did, because there was no way that I had encompassed half of the pain and politics that the book describes.

I don't understand how people can read books like that, or hear the stories and the news and not care. 

People often tell me how pragmatic, logical, and driven I am. Sometimes to the point that I forget that I love to be free, creative, immersed in culture and arts, see things in my own way and create things with my hands. 

I am not sure if I am resenting Utah because it is no longer just a vacation spot, or just because this is a lot of stinkin' change and it is just easy to blame Narnia.

nikon, ya did good.

pretty faces and places

law school evals.

I am looking up law programs that I would like to apply to (this is what I do late at night, almost every night) and have been going through the LSAC forums and school evaluations.

Provo, UT- BYU Law

If you read the article, you might sense a bit of prejudice and bias against the area in which I currently reside. Whoever wrote this article isn't completely off though. 

She obviously had a taste of Narnia prior to writing this article, and there was no alcohol tasting in that sampling. She sounds a bit thrown off/ bitter about that.

once again, welcome to my life.

If you were wondering, here are the schools I am coveting most at the moment:

Duke*

Villanova*

University of NC Chapel Hill

University of Colorado*

Virginia 

Georgetown

University of Utah*

and BYU (despite the scathing report on Quality of Life- I'm dealing with it now, I guess).

not my wedding...

I went to a bridal shop today to buy a bridesmaid dress. 

There were two brides there, trying to find "the one". You know the dress that will define their wedding, relationship, self, whatever.

Bride #1 looked pretty casual (as in didn't threaten the lives of the employees) and had a pretty wonderful dress on. Assessing the situation, my guess was that this was not her first time trying on that very dress and she was almost content with her decision to purchase. She probably just needed a couple more people to tell her she looked divine. 

Bride #2= "unconventional" Bridezilla- Her 3 young children were knocking things around in the store and she was yelling at her (umm...) attendant for the majority the time. She found a dress. Her mother's expression never changed from disinterest and disgust, must be hereditary-that ball of sunshine.

Brides 1 and 2 exit and finally people pay attention to me. I get it, there is no rock on my finger so my business is not priority. And hell, I might as well be wearing a sign on my forehead that says "unemployed:no life:take your time"

The girls seemed to like me, and we had a lot of fun judging some of the more hideous bridesmaid dresses that someone so vindictively designed at some point in their bitter life.

The girls got so comfortable they began to talk shit (no other way to put that) on their previous customers. I mean, they went to town, spewing sentences such as: "Man, she really should lose some weight", "I can't believe she choose the ivory, it looks horrible", and my favorite, "it is going to look disgusting, but hey, its not my wedding". I also got to hear the life story of "unconventional" Bride #2 who has 3 children and already lives with a man (gasp)- the girls really didn't like her. Oh, and Bride #1 has family members that are non- LDS and can't come to the wedding and everyone is unhappy about this, except for the employees that said "well, it's their own damn fault". 

People are cruel. 

who does that really? 

 I realized as soon as I walked out of that store they probably began to talk crap about me- the fifteen I could lose, how awful I look in yellow, etc.

It was like being at a nail salon where you are 100% positive that the lady doing your nails is talking crap in a foreign language to her comrade on the opposite end of the salon about your irreparable cuticles and how badly you need to wax your eyebrows, except for this time I could understand what they were saying. 

Good day.

sexy marriage

He is Just Not That Into You was much better upon second viewing. Found myself attracted to Ben Afleck. Haven't seen that sentence anywhere since Pearl Harbor.

Why is it that Hollywood is so opposed to the concept of a sexy marriage? Marriages on the big screen- and little screen (referring to One Tree Hill)- make it seem as though a couple is not capable of being sexy after the nuptials. Married men must always be chasing twenty-something, bombshell skanks that have no apprehension pursuing or being pursued by a married man, and the wife is at home bitter, haggard, and less attractive so therefore it is obviously her fault her man is about town. And everyone is ok with this, except for me apparently (hyperbole). 

And Scarlett Johansen, you have made it so that every woman on this earth should hate your existence. You can't sing, either. 

I think married couples can be sexy as hell. I'd like to see more of that. Take note, screenwriters everywhere.

The Chili's in Monrovia is apparently a hot spot for all those who want a steamy hook up with notorious bad-asses. I worked there in high school and knew a server who casually dated Paul Walker whenever he was in town. He just stopped by for a Presidente Margarita and a hot blonde every couple of months (crying shame I was about 16 at the time, otherwise I would have made a move, but let's be honest I would barely have the gall to do that now and definitely  not as the awkward teen that I was). And today, I was flipping through a People magazine (classy) and I saw another co-server from the very same Chili's splattered throughout the magazine as she is rumored to be hanging out/dating/ getting some/ whatever with John Mayer. She is labeled as a cocktail waitress/aspiring actress and I don't know if thats patronizing or approving. I thought about myspacing (verb) her today to let her know I saw her  but then I thought against it because people always come out of the woodworks when people they once knew get famous. Too cliche for me.

welcome to life

I have lost count of the amount of people who  sneeringly cheered "welcome to the economy" during graduation.

Here is the thing- I laughed with them, because deep down inside I am a prideful person who thought "this applies only to everyone else in the universe"... and I imagined myself having to turn away jobs.

This is not the case.

I am actually beginning to resent my bachelor's degree. It does nothing for you.  Apparently most administrative jobs can be done by people who are simply high school graduates. I even saw a job post that stated " We are not looking for people with a Bachelor or Masters- we won't pay you what you want or give you the hours you want. High School will suffice".

You kidding me? That means that there are millions of 17 year olds making lots of dollars, while I try to sleep during normal working hours so it doesn't bother me too much that nothing brilliant has appeared.

Speaking of 17 year olds (and pedophilia) Team Jacob. Watch the New Moon trailer. Thank you, Stephanie Meyer for your mediocre writing that created this ridiculous love story (that most of the world is now obsessed with, including myself).

Back to the job thing- what has irked me the most is that most of these job ads that are clamoring for someone with "excellent verbal and communication skills" are teeming with grammatical and spelling errors. And they want a high- school pubescent child to fix their problems rather than a person who has a  shiny English Portfolio (that is now collecting dust on my book shelf).