Wednesday, March 21, 2012

A Few Things

"My feet hurt in heels sometimes and other things women talk about." - Liz Lemon

I've been feeling awfully girly lately.  Like 15 year old girl girly.

It's mostly because I have this recent obsession with painting my finger nails.  I by "recent obsession" i mean since about January, I've been painting my fingernails really weird colors every three or four days.  I have a veeeery pale pink, a grey-ish blue, a purple-ish brown, a tan-ish/skin color, and a mint green.  It's getting to be sort of neurotic of me.  The other day the oven was on while I was painting my nails but I was done making dinner so I opened the door and stuck my hands inside to make my nails dry faster.  In my defense, it was our toaster oven, which really doesn't get that hot.  BUT, I have finally quit my habit of biting my fingernails.  This is a habit that started when I was about 9.

This is me making a terribly weird face RIGHT NOW

In other news, I was trying to describe to someone why living off-campus is AWESOME, and I couldn't put it to words.  Then yesterday I accidentally said it after a long day (we're talking 8 straight hours) of being in the photo lab on campus.  I was packing up to leave and telling a friend:

I'm going to go home and eat toaster strudel and take a bath.

I couldn't do wither of those things if I lived on Stanford campus.  Because they have no baths (only showers) and no one ever buys/makes food.  I feel like even most students who live in apartment style housing still don't do it.

Speaking of photography, I had the final for that class tonight, which mainly included each person having a turn at showing 20+ photos from throughout the quarter.  And then the whole class looking at them.  It's awfully exciting.  Even though the work is done, there's a flutter of nervousness and the validation that comes from others telling you that they cannot stop staring at one of your prints.  Or from your professor telling you that something you made is different from what anyone else could have made by looking at the scene and that he really enjoys your point of view.

I plan to take more photo classes throughout my Stanford career.  And my life.  I'm thinking I might take some digital, but I really don't know how to work photoshop, I only understand the dark room.  I have some prins I am very much proud of though.  And I will have four photos be up on campus for the world of Stanford to see.  I hope my Mom doesn't mind that she's in one.  And also one is of Marcus' feet while he's getting ready for church.  Everyone said it looked like an old man.  Another is the crock pot on top of my fridge in my tiny place here at school and the last one - get THIS - will be my own feet.
Isn't that just crazy? I hate my feet a lot.  But one day it was raining and they were filthy and I got home and wanted to wash them and I took off my pants and stepped into the tub and the water around the drain and the dirt all over my feet was just too much for me not to take the picture.  It's one of my favorites, but I feel oddly weird having people see it all the time.  Like it is too personal to share.

I'm putting finals week as the blame for why this post sort of jumps from one segment to the next without connection but without enough lack of connection for it to be purposeful.  It stifles my creativity in all the bad ways.

Lastly, the Hunger Games is coming out this weekend. YOU GUYS.  How many of my study breaks have been me watching the trailer.  One billion thousand, that's how many.  Please to enjoy it here.

Super lastly, my family has been rick rolling each other lately which is weird because my roommate has been telling me how she actually enjoys that song lately and I just wanted to promise that I will never rick roll you dears.  Because I figure reading this guy is punishment enough for whatever karmic retribution is headed your way.

And just because I can, another photo:

Sign me up for whatever this is. Just for the purple warm-ups.  

Saturday, March 17, 2012

Independent Woman

When I typed that, I was reminded of this video, which I had forgotten about, and which has very very little to do with the post, but I may or may not have had the lyrics memorized at one point in my life.  But that's not my fault.  One of my sisters had printed out the lyrics and they were floating around our computer room for a couple weeks.  What was I supposed to do?

One of my favorite things to do lately is to go out by myself to somewhere I have never been before and take
pictures.  My photography class has sort of given me an excuse to do that, and it turns out  really like it.  I am a total creeper and I take photos of people I have never seen before.  One girl said to her friend, while I was within three feet and definitely still in earshot "Did that girl just take our picture?"  To which I just kept walking.   Because, it is perfectly legal, and I am perfectly fine with being the weirdo.

That was a tangent.

The main point, is how much I realized I really like to go discover things by myself.  Form my own opinions, see something new, live the high life, etc.  F'reals though, when I saw Walker Evans at our school's museum, one of my friends told me I should have taken her with me.  But the thought didn't even occur to me to ask someone to come with me.  I think it's my way of feeling connected with the world - by going out into it, while still being alone to my thoughts.  It's really awesome, and I really really recommend it.

Here are some pics (of the terrible cell phone variety) of my days discoveries:

In case you were wondering: 1. some more pretty tulips (among other gorgeous plants - I love the colors!) 2. Me messing around with what I thought was a cool scene 3. It's called lawn bowling apparently?  ANd each of those is about 300 plastic shopping bags, but they are art, not regulation balls 4.  Did you make out that rainbow in the sky?  Rainbows don't photograph well

Ah, the spring, she is good, no?

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

Text Me.

A few weeks ago my phone went on strike. 

On Monday I sent a text and got no response.  I sent many more text messages throughout the week.  Many many more.  And none of them got responses.  It was a busy week, and I figured everyone else in the world was busy too. 

I was starting to get a little bugged.  Why would you just not text me back when I wanted to  hang out with you.  Are you friend-breaking up with me?

On Friday evening I called my dad.
"I guess you didn't think the joke I texted you was very funny.  You didn't even respond."

A light bulb went off.  I tried to send myself a text and it didn't go through.  I hadn't been receiving any calls either.  Everything outgoing was working, but nothing was coming in.  I called my service provider and had my service reset and got about 30 text messages at once.  People wanted to hang out with me too, it turns out.  My roommate had asked if I wanted anything from the grocer store.  So thoughtful.

This whole thing got me thinking...

I've had unlimited text messaging since I was 15 years old.  Since then, I have been able to send any message to any person at any time as frequently as I wanted.  Since then, there's probably been about a month of total time where my phone was not within five feet of me.  I got my phone taken away in high school once for using it in class. I had finished a test early and there was nothing else to do.  

Maybe it's not good.  Maybe I've spent too much of life attached to a thing.  but behind that thing there are people right?  I mean I don't think I would ever communicate with my oldest brother if it weren't for text messages.  Minus 6 months where our main communication was weekly emails, text messages is definitely about 70% of my interactions with him.  So better texts than nothing.  

But maybe I'm getting impatient.  I mean, I texted my mom at 2 in the morning the other night to tell her I had changed the time for a doctors appointment.  I need to be heard, and I need to be heard now.  What I am saying is so important that I am going to tell you it in the middle of class, while eating lunch, in the middle of the night, while I'm talking to someone else in person. 

But most of the time they are not important at all.  Most of the time my texts are just "hahaha that's crazy"  or "Okie dokie, I'll check and let you know" or something to that effect.  Maybe I've been raised in a world where people communicate constantly instead of deeply.  

I hereby resolve to do absolutely nothing.  I mean, I thought about what I could change and I decided nothing.  I like a text now and then.  It helps me know others are thinking of me, if even for a little bit.  

A picture for picture's sake:
Taken from my phone, if that makes it relevant

Monday, March 12, 2012

Friederich Nietzsche Once Said,

"We should consider every day lost on which we have not danced at least once."

I'm not joking, he actually said that.

I've hit a trifecta:

  1. I did Jillian Michael's "Killer Buns and Thighs" video yesterday on level 1, doing the modified versions of all the moves, and today I am the perfect level of sore.  You know, where you can feel the muscle's tenseness if you move just right, but it's not so bad that you avoid moving in that way.  It makes me want to dance around my apartment.
  2. I ate crepes today.  Before church there was a little brunch for the women-folk and I got to both make and eat crepes.  It was yum-a-liscious.  And fresh berries are on my go-list.  Forever.  
  3. I made a fool of myself in public today, only slightly intentionally.  We were talking about something or another in Sunday school and I decided to comment on making the choice between going for a run or reading my scriptures in the morning and then closed it off with, "which, I mean, I do neither of those things."  Which evoked more laughter than I would have expected.  But I felt embarrassed because I forgot that I do read my scriptures most days.  
Ok, what is this a trifecta for?

Umm, I don't really know.  Oh man, FAIL.

What I mean to say is erm...


Pretty tulips that were down the street?

No, I don't think that was it.  

Here we go!  What I mean to say is, it's my blog, and I'll say what I want to.  But that doesn't mean I just say every thought that goes through my head.  (I know, you are surprised).

I have this friend who is one of my few loyal readers that I am not related to and she doesn't like it when I talk smack about myself or, more accurately, when I apologize for being a bit much on my bloggy-poo.  But you know what, I don't do it for you(obviously).  I do it because I want to acknowledge that I'm aware of how weird/whiny/conceited I sound.  because really crazy people don't even know that they are crazy.  average-ly crazy people are generally knowledgeable about their schtuffs.   


Was that really it?  I think the pretty tulips might have been better as a point.  
Oh you know what is great?  Today my dad offered to give me money!  Isn't that the college student's dream.  And also, I definitely got some dancing in so today can't have been a complete waste.

Sorry, that might have been a bit scatter-brained.  

Friday, March 9, 2012

Cyclical Theory

History repeats itself.

You've heard this too, right?  I've never really been a believer.  Until five days ago.  When I realized I was reliving last winter.  

On Sunday I broke my computer screen.  Yep, yep, you heard me right.  Broken, smokin'.  And this time I am too cheap to fix it, especially when Betty probably only has like 8 months of life left in her.  So, what do you do?  You ask the internet to provide you with an old school computer monitor that you can hook up to your laptop so that she is still functional.  

The same thing happened a year ago (for those of you not in the know about these sorts of things) and it got me to thinking that there is something that I am probably supposed to learn from the set of conditions that I am currently in.  Because things look a lot like they did a year ago.  Namely, school is frustrating and sometimes altogether uninteresting, I feel like I spend all too much time alone and wishing I were at the beach, and I am riding the struggle bus in trying to secure a summer internship for this summer.  

So what is it?  Why am I going through all these things twice?  I am a firm believer in the fact that all things happen for a reason.  All things will work together for my good, if you will.  So what is this good?  

Well I will tell you one.  The computer, she is largely bad for me.  In the day and a half that I didn't have a working computer, I was so productive and so happy.  There is something not good about having a large amount of your interactions with a screen.  Even if there are people behind them.  I mean, to a point it is good, but it shouldn't be the main dish.  
Second, I am supposed to learn to not eat my feelings.  Which I am doing a terrible job of.  Every time I am bored or tired or stressed or (insert emotion here), it makes me want to eat a bagel with cream cheese and raspberries and a tad of powdered sugar.  (P.s. that is possibly my new favorite treat ever - except that nothing can top orange juice).
Also, I am probably supposed to learn that happiness is a choice.  Which is also something I am still struggling with.  I mean part of growing up is realizing that a good grade or a new toy (or item of clothing) isn't going to make you happy.  YOU are going to make you happy.  So if I'm supposed to be making myself happy, am I doing my job?  I've been trying to think more about that lately.  And to remind myself that I've actually got it pretty good.

Dudes, I've said it before, and I'll say it again, Hugh Jackman is entirely too attractive for his wife.

She just looks so .... old.