Addiction

I have a confession to make. I am thoroughly addicted to Alias. I've watched the first two seasons (which amounts to a total of 33 hours) in a matter of two weeks. I've stayed up as late as 3:00 in the morning on a school night. I can't stop thinking about it. I can't stop watching it. I am addicted.

I've always wondered what it feels like to be addicted to something. You know, cigarettes, drugs, the works, but now I truly know. It's insane, and you're probably disgusted with me, but I don't care.

Let me explain to you a little about the plot:

Sydney Bristow (played by Jennifer Garner) is the main character.

She works for a secret branch of the CIA known as SD-6 with her father, Jack. In the very first episode her boyfriend proposes to her, and she knows she's not allowed to tell anyone about what she does, but she tells said boyfriend anyway, and comes home to find him dead in the bathtub. She later finds out that SD-6 is not actually affiliated with the CIA in any way, and it's part of this secret evil organization called the Alliance, whom she thought she was working against but she's actually working for. She is so mad about her fiance's death and about the fact that she's been lied to for the past 7 years, that she goes to the real CIA and becomes a double agent. Then she meets the hottest man alive, Michael Vaughn, who is to be her CIA handler.

Is he not delicious?

Anyway, basically during the course of the two seasons, the viewer finds that the whole SD-6/Alliance thing is really no big deal in comparison to whats coming. Sydney has a 500 year old prophecy floating around about her, created by this man named Ramboldi, who also has created a device to make you immortal, which every agency across the world is after.

Season 2 ends with Sydney learning that her BFF Francie has been genetically doubled, and that she's been living with the fake Francie for months. They get into this huge fight, Sydney almost dies, the fake Francie does die, and then Sydney wakes up in some alley in Hong Kong. She calls the director at the CIA and he tells her to go to the nearest CIA safehouse, where she meets up with Vaughn, who tells her that she's been missing for 2 years and that everyone thought she was dead. Funny thing is, she has no recollection of those 2 years! And Vaughn (who she'd been dating) is married to another woman!! What the cram was Sydney doing for 2 years, and why the cram is Vaughn married?! Oooh, I can't wait for season 3. Unfortunately, season 3 is not in my possession at the moment, and it's checked out at the library for another week. I just might go into withdrawals.

PS- Sydney's dad is a double agent too.

PPS- Sydney thought her mother was dead until season 2. Her mother turned herself into the CIA (she's a wanted criminal) and cooperates for awhile, but then betrays the CIA and goes off with Sloan (the ex SD-6 director) to find the Ramboldi artifacts.

My Top 3 Scars

Since I know you care so much, I will now provide you with evidence, both textual and visual, of my top 3 scars, in order.

#3...

This little guy came to me at EFY. I was walking along on the little trail in between dorms at BYU and I wasn't really looking where I was going and all of a sudden BAM. I kicked the corner of a little metal thing. I don't even know what it was! How lame is that. It bled a lot but I just had to press forward with faith that it would get better. And it did. But it left me with this reminder. Now I will always watch where I am going.

#2...

I really love this one. One day, Henrietta and I were chillin in her room listening to tunes and what not. There was a remote to the tunes. We both wanted it. So we waged a war. At the climax of the battle, Henrietta was laying on her back on the bed with me standing over her. She had the remote in her right hand. Her left hand had a firm grasp on my right hand. She was trying to prevent me from using my strongest weapon. But I had an idea. As quick as a cat, I imploded my palm so it would be as skinny as possible and then I ripped my hand straight up and out of her control. In her desperate confusion, I was able to snatch the remote from her left hand and jump off the bed. I had won. But the victory did not come without a price. My swift, cat-like hand-ripping-out skills did not take into account the mean fingernails on my opponent. Thus I was sliced as you can see above. But there is another reason I love this scar so much: My baby bro has a scar on his right hand that looks exactly the same, in the same place and everything. Twinner scars! We always look at them together and tell each other how cool we are. It's just a bond we have, you know? I love it.

And finally, #1...

Unfortunately this one does not have a sweet story and/or a twin to go along with it, but my #1 it remains. Why, you ask? Because. This one is 17 years old. I don't remember a time that it wasn't there. It's been with me through thick and thin and I can't imagine life without it! I got it from falling down the stairs as a lil baby.

Now, I have a bonus for you. The following is not a scar, but just another bodily imperfection that I love. It is found at the top of my left arm, close to my shoulder...

Do you see that little white mark? Look close...... It's a HEART! Yes, it's true. My arm loves me. How many people can say that about their arms? Not too many I tell you. I'm a lucky girl.

She's a Gold Digger

Thoughts from Thursday on Marrying a Rich Boy

It's a good thing Henrietta never reads this blog because I always talk to her about important matters and then I decide to blog about it. So she would get bored of hearing the same thing over and over. Like marrying a rich boy, for example.

I want to marry a rich boy.

Okay, he doesn't necessarily have to be rich. Maybe just his parents are rich.

Let me explain.

With the variety of people in this world comes a variety of views about money.

Have you ever met someone (and I know you have) who is negative about money?

It's like they never have enough money so they are always being cheap, but they think they will never get enough money. They think being rich is impossible. And they are negative about rich people. Because they are jealous, of course. Do you know what I mean?

I don't like that.

So my first conclusion was: Marry a rich boy. Then he knows that it's not bad and it's not impossible to be rich.

Then I thought: Well, he doesn't have to be rich, but maybe if his parents are rich then he will see that it's not bad and it's not impossible.

But then I thought a little more: Maybe you don't have to be rich to have a good view about money. And I thought of some people in my life who are not rich, but they know what money is about. They don't overspend, but they are not afraid to spend money. They don't hate rich people. They are positive. You know?

It's not that I have to be rich when I grow up. It's that I cannot spend my entire life listening to someone complain about always being poor, but never doing anything about it. You know, because they think being rich is impossible, plus they have spent their whole life being jealous, and therefore negative, about the rich and they couldn't just go and become one. That would just drive me insane.

In conclusion.

If he's rich, that would be nice.

If his parents are rich, fine.

But most importantly, if he is good with his money, and positive about life, then it doesn't matter how much money he has. It's not the number. It's the attitude.

Red In The Morning's a Sailor's Warning

Red at night's a sailor's delight.

Goodnight Wednesday.

In a Cup or Cone?

This is a question we have all been asked many a time.

Have you ever wondered to yourself, "What is the right answer? How do I know?"

That is why I am here. I will now help you answer this question more effectively for yourself.

Let's discover the pros and cons of each.

First, the cone:

Pros:

1. No spoon necessary.

2. The cone tastes absolutely delicious.

3. You get to lick the ice cream right off the top.

4. Ice cream just tastes better on a cone if you know what I mean.

Cons:

1. It melts so you have to eat it kind of fast.

2. It drips on you if you are not ninja quick.

3. You have to watch what you are doing as you eat it. No distractions.

Next, the cup:

Pros:

1. Clean. No melty drips.

2. You can drive and eat at the same time.

3. You can take your time because it's all contained in the cup.

4. You can share because you haven't been licking it all over.

Cons:

1. No cone. The cone is basically the best part.

2. Your hands get cold from holding the freezing cup.

3. You have to eat off a spoon.

4. Ice cream just doesn't taste as good off a spoon.

Now, clearly a cone is better where taste is concerned, but there are exceptions depending on the situation.

For example:

On a date. You do not want to be dripping all over yourself. You do not want to have to eat it super fast. You want to be able to eat and enjoy conversation at the same time. Sacrifice and go with the cup.

Other than that, I think the best choice has been made clear.

Do with this information as you wish and happy ice cream eating.

P.S. I may or may not have gotten ice cream two days in a row just for the purposes of this blog. You'll never know.

I'm Kind of Confused Here

Thoughts from Thursday on Standards.

I have been thinking a lot about standards lately and I even had a conversation with Henrietta the other day about this. Well it was more like a half conversation. Okay not really a conversation at all.

That is why I need your opinion.

Don't be too shocked that this is kind of churchy. What can I say, I'm kind of a churchy person.

The thought/question here is: Is it okay to have a standard just because the church has that standard? You know what I mean?

For example: Gay marriage. Is it okay to be against gay marriage just because the church is against it?

Do you need to know more about the topic in order to back you up?

If the only reason you have a standard is because the church has that standard, will that be good enough? Good enough for the other person and/or good enough for you. Will it stand strong?

When someone says to you, "Why in the crap are you against gay marriage?" Is it okay for you to just say, "Because I am Mormon and that's just what we are." Or you could even explain why we are what we are.

But anyway.

I always thought that this is what is so great about being Mormon. Sometimes they just tell you the right side of an argument and then you don't have to do the research or really think because they already told you, you know?

But now I'm wondering: Is that good enough?

You know how they always say, "Know what you are going to say before you get in the situation or else you will give in when the situation actually comes up." Is that how it is when you have a standard because that's the church's standard? You know, like will you fall easier if that's the case?

Does this make any sense???

This applies to any standard really, like word of wisdom, abortion, etc.

Is it okay to just do it because that's what the church says? Or do you need something more.

I. Do. Not. Know.

Lo Siento Interrumpir

Usually I like to have at least somewhat of a point when I post something on here.

That is why I have not told you about this little experience yet. Because there's no point.

But I told my lil sis (who we shall call Henrietta) about it and she said it was funny.

So I thought, "Whatev. I guess I'll just post it."

On Saturday I went to the pool. By myself. No that is not creepy, okay?

Anyway, I was sitting there soaking up the sun when I got the vibes that I had received a text.

Indeed I had. It was from Stats. She was wondering where I was and told me to hurry home so we could go to the "Area BBQ."

This was a bit puzzling to me. I had not heard about this area bbq of which we speak. We had one once before, in June, and it was totally lame. Basically no one was there and it was so boring and just kind of weird. But for that one, there were millions of fliers ALL OVER so there was absolutely NO mistaking when/where the thing was taking place.

But now Stats was telling me there was another one. I had not seen a single flier. Strange.

But I pushed that aside and came home anyway.

When I got home I asked her, "How did you know about this bbq? I haven't heard anything."

She said, "Well I saw this one little flier on the door of the main office building and it had this tiny font and it was a weird color so you could barely even read it. Plus I hear people and music coming from over there."

Again, I thought about how odd this was. But I went anyway.

We walked over to the volleyball courts. There were certainly people there. Lots of them. And music too.

But guess what. The music was Mexican. All the people were Mexican. There were maybe 6 white people total, including me and Stats.

So I thought to myself, "This can't be right. Maybe this is some kind of Latino bbq or something. We are just not supposed to be here."

Not that I'm against multi-cultural bbq's or whatever, we just didn't belong.

Now if it had just been me, I would have kept on walking like I was purposely going somewhere beyond the volleyball courts. But Stats was there. So I just followed her lead. Yes I can be a follower at times.

She noticed that we didn't really fit in, but she decided to keep going. We saw the food table and started heading towards it.

Seriously, this whole time I just felt SO SO SO DUMB. I did not understand one conversation that I heard because everyone was speaking Spanish. They were all doing their thing and it was totally normal for them and me and Stats were just so out of place.

We eventually made it to the food table. As we picked up our bun, this guy came over to us and said, "So...do you guys live around here?"

Shoot me now. Please. Just do it.

"Yes."

"Oh...cool...okay." And then he left.

Oh my gosh. It was horrible.

So we got our food and then went to sit in the shade under a tree. As we ate, I observed my surroundings.

Everyone seemed to know/be friends with everyone else.

Everyone was speaking Spanish, like I said before.

People were actually singing along with this strange music I had never heard before and could not understand at all.

There was this one random little white boy playing football with the rest of the guys. He was probably 10. Where in the crap did he come from?

Ya, so it was super awkward and I just wanted to disappear.

After we ate we sat there for like 2 seconds and then decided to relieve ourselves from this out-of-place-ness.

Finally.

Moral of the story:

Hm. There are many possible morals.

1. Learn Spanish.

2. Read fliers carefully.

3. Free food is not always worth it.

4. 10 year old white kids are always welcome.

5. Uh...don't be offended at my politically incorrectness.

6. Henrietta is the coolest blog nickname on the face of the planet.

Be jealous.

*Post Publish::: WHOA! Look at that list of morals. They get longer and longer as the list goes down. It looks like steps. That is the coolest thing I have seen all day.

Bwayee Fuhyee

Yesterday I took a trip to the mailbox and this is what I found:

It came out of an envelope addressed to me of course.

So I opened it to find this:

My very own lil bro had written me a note on a napkin and full on mailed it to me.

Indeed, Bwayee Fuhyee.

I deemed this so awesome that I have decided to dedicate this post to my brother.

So Bwayee, guess what.

Last night I saw a movie. It was called Inception.

It. Was. Awesome.

Oh my goodness.

Seriously. You should go see it.

This is how awesome it was:

1. I got there 10 minutes late.

2. I sat on the second row back. SECOND ROW! Ya I had to actually turn my head if I wanted to see the side of the screen.

3. It was 2 and a half hours long.

With all that, I still loved it.

I'm not one to always like that kind of movie. You know, it's actually semi deep and I like to not have to think when I watch a movie.

But no. This was good.

I was totally into it. And it didn't even really swear that much. And it had some funny lines mixed in there. And at the end I wasn't even that confused. I think I mostly got all of it.

Plus I could actually feel the vibrations when things would blow up. It was crazy.

Just go see it, Bwayee. You can thank me later.

When you have job...

My new life as a working class citizen in awesome. I feel like I'm actually a societal contributer, something, may I remind you, that you are not.

Today, I got to the groom shop at 9 am. I clocked in using the stupid new clocking-in machine, which I feel does not adequately represent my hours, so I keep them written down on a napkin in my (mom's) car.

I sprayed a clean towel, threw it on the floor, and did the boogie.

A woman and her husband came in with their little Yorkie and a giant orange cat name Louis, who looked something like this:

Louis was seriously twice the size of the Yorkie. I promptly got to work brushing him. After a few minutes my arms started to get a little bit red. I didn't really care. Then, a lady came in with her Aussie, and I went to go check her in. As I was searching for a pen for her to write her information, I look down and noticed with alarm that the skin on my arms had started to boil. There were little white bumps all over the place. Here is a picture of it a few hours later, but it's not nearly as bad as it was at first. In fact you can hardly even tell in this picture. But believe me, it was BAD. Apparently it's called hives. Apparently I am allergic to Louis.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of dog shampoo, vacuuming, brushing, checking-in, checking-out, and sneezing. But it was all worth it, because at the end of the day I got to take home THIS:

Isn't that delicious? Are you raking in anything of the sort? Mmm, didn't think so.

Aaaanyway, so I got home, and as usual, my shirt looked like this:

And now I am about to go take a shower, and then I'm going to write a SEVEN page paper for class that is due on Monday. Work work school work work work school work work. I should be paid for the time I spend gracing your blog with my presence. I have better things to do you know. Bahahahahahahahahahaha

Traditions

I love traditions. I think there should be a tradition for everything. Traditions are what make good memories and what people look forward to. Traditions are the one thing everyone can count on. Traditions are sent straight from Heaven. I don't know if you are really supposed to capitalize Heaven. I just do. It's tradition.

Above, we see a tradition I have every morning when I brush my teeth. I drip right on my shirt. Then I get to wait until it dries before I leave the dorm.

I have decided to apply my belief in traditions to this blog.

Every Thursday from now on, I will give you Thoughts from Thursday. In these posts I will share with you my thoughts. Obviously.

It can be on anything I want.

It can be as random as I want.

It can be as boring as I want.

It can be as serious/unserious as I want.

Let us try it now.

Thoughts from Thursday on Hand-Washing Dishes.

First of all, sponges are absolutely sick and who ever invented them, especially with the intended use of dish washing, should be put in a mental institution.

b. Cups were so not meant to be hand-washed. It's dishwasher or nothing people. So if you don't have a dishwasher, buy some plastic cups that you can just throw away.

Tres, it's a waste of time, money, and soap to wash dishes after every meal. Just save them until the sink gets full or AT LEAST until the end of the day, and then you can wash them all at once.

Fourthly, drying. I do not believe in drying the dishes. It just grosses me out because no one but me cares that the towels used to dry these freshly cleaned dishes have been hanging on the oven handle for DAYS drying gross human hands and when you rub your dishes all over those things, you are asking for disease. Just rinse the dishes in hot water and set them aside. In 2 minutes flat they will be dry and then you can put them away. If you just HAVE to dry them by hand, at least get a fresh towel. AT LEAST.

Wellll. That was fun. Thoughts from Thursday is here to stay.

The Birth of a Global Phenomenon

On this day, just 18 short years ago, our very own Global Phenomenon, aka GP, was born.

Let me tell you a bit about this person of whom we speak:

1. She is so good at English. She writes like a mad woman and she knows all these random words that no one knows. In fact, the Word{s} of the Day section on the side bar of this blog was inspired by her.

2. She loves animals. That is why I need her as a friend. Friends need to have differences among their things in common and their opinion of the animals on this earth is a great place to put that difference. She loves animals. I hate animals. So if we see an animal while we are together, she gets to be the one giving/receiving any/all of the attention to/from it and I can just sit back and relax. It's a win-win.

3. She is culturally aware. That is a good thing if you ask me.

4. She eats a lot of crap and she never gets fat. Who wouldn't want to be her?

5. She is all about world peace/going green/recycling/saving the children of Africa/eating veggies out of the earth/feeding her kids out of glass bottles/surviving in the wild on a crazy adventure with her future husband. It just doesn't get old.

6. She is one of the best people you will meet in this world, so if you get the chance, I would recommend making friends with her. It will be worth it.

And today is the day she entered into the world.

Happy birthday GP! And congratulations. You have made it to adulthood.

P.S. GP posts every Saturday. You can read the posts she has done thus far by clicking here, here, and here.

Potato Land

Yesterday I crossed the border.

Have you ever been to Idaho?

Ya it's just like you would imagine. Nothing but fields.

There is a fabulous blue sign as you can see in the picture above to welcome you into the state that is "Too great to litter" (as seen on another sign).

You know the signs you see on the side of the road that are yellow diamonds and have a picture of a deer on them? Well they have a couple of those in Idaho, but mostly they have pictures of cows on them. Ya. And trust me there were cows enough to justify the signs.

Have you ever heard of Preston? I have too. Like a million times. Everyone has a relative from Preston or from some town like "Riverdale, which is by Preston." And then everyone else says, "Oh ya, by Preston. I have a cousin in Preston."

So you'd think it was a big town right? No.

As you enter, there is a little green sign that says, "Welcome to Preston, population 4,975."

What? That is only twice the size of good old Lehi High. How can everyone and their dog have a relative in this place?

And look what I saw in this little town of Preston:

That's right. One flashing yellow light in the middle of the one intersection.

Um, okay.

So you are probably asking your computer screen, "What in the crap were you doing in Preston?"

Let me tell you.

I got an invite from an old high school friend (te he I'm so cool) to go up there to her grandparents' house and spend the day with them because she and her family were visiting for a few days.

So I was like, "Well let me check my schedule..." Nothing.

And then, "Sweet I would love to spend a whole day in the company of farmers and eat free food."

Thus I was on my way to Potato Land.

My friend, who we shall call "Courier MT" for the purposes of this blog, put me on the phone with her daddy to tell me how to get there. He didn't even have to give me an address. He just told me how to get there and I got there. That's how nothing there was. I basically just drove straight for 45 min and bam I arrived.

And what exactly did I arrive to? A little house in the middle of a bunch of big fields. It was so cute.

I went in and met her grandparents and cousins and then we sat down for dinner. But really it was lunch. Only, on a farm you call it dinner. Dinner was sandwiches and corn and watermelon and carrots and other foods of the like.

Then was dessert. Dessert after dinner may not sound strange to you, but like i said, this was really lunch, so I was surprised.

First a little chocolate cake was brought out. I ate a slice.

Then her grandma said, "Does anyone want some ice cream?"

I did not, but most of the boys did. So they began their ice cream eating and then Courier MT's daddy brought out a pan and said, "Who wants apple crisp?"

Wow.

Finally dinner was done and we decided to take a tour of the farm.

So me, Courier MT, her daddy, and her brother hopped on a four wheeler (the same one, it was big) and took us a tour. It was a lot of field.

It was so cute because her daddy grew up on this farm so he had all these memories and stories from when he was a little boy and what he and his sibs would do. We drove through some puddles and got a little muddy but that was cool because that's just what you do on a farm.

Oh, I forgot to mention, everyone was wearing the typical jeans, sturdy shoes/boots, and plaid button up shirt that would be expected on a farm. It was adorable.

Then we went and saw some puppies that were born a few weeks ago.

Then we girls went in the house to chat like girls do and the boys went out on the farm to work the afternoon away.

A little before supper, we girls began to prepare the meal by chopping veggies and making salads and what not. That night was going to be the traditional "weenie roast."

When we were ready, we fetched the males from their hard job of fixing pipes and sprinklers and welding things and told them to come for the weenie roast.

They came.

We roasted.

It was a delight.

Then we had gourmet smores. I'm not even lying, they were SO scrumptious. I hate smores, but these were divine.

Then we played a game with a title pronounced like this: eee-knee, eye-knee, over. Only you say it like "EEEKNEEEYENEEOVER!!"

So you split in two teams and one team goes to the front of the house, while the other goes to the back. Then the team with the ball says, "EEEKNEEEYEKNEEOVER!!" And they throw the ball over the house. The team on the other side tries to catch it. If they miss, they pick it up and then they say "EEEKNEEEYEKNEEOVER!!" And then they throw it back over the house to the other team. But if they catch it, they run around the side of the house and touch as many people on the other team with the ball as they can. If you get touched with the ball, you have to join that team.

It was so fun.

SO fun.

And it was actually quite tiring too.

We played that until the sun went down.

My day on the farm had ended.

So I expressed my gratitude to all farmers involved, and to Courier MT, and then I headed home.

Idaho was made in Heaven.

When You Don't Have Air Conditioning

You resort to other things.

Like tin foil.
On the window.
And would you like to hear something?
It works.

What was the question? I was distracted by the half masticated cow rolling around in your wide open trap.

Well GP. Since you already did a double post on today, I decided to make it a triple to continue our unexpected theme.

Speaking of unexpected...

a. Lord of the Rings. Predictable.

b. Nacho Libre.

c. War of the Worlds.

d. What about Bob. The Bob was a great hint.

e. Ever After. Love that movie.

f. The Game Plan. Also a great one.

g. Pirates of the Caribbean.

h. My Girl. I'm guessing you got this while thinking about the Game Plan.

i. Johnny English.

j. Johnny English. Was this supposed to trick me? I don't think so.

k. Twilight. S.I.C.K.

l. My Fair Lady. In honor of our previous English class. How fitting.

m. Taken.

n. Cheaper by the Dozen. Btw you missed the word "out."

Boo ya baby! I just did that in no time flat and I even took a time out to help Lavoisier find some neosporin in my belongings because she stubbed her toe on the "trolley" at Wally World.

I am dang good.

Filibuster Movie Quotes

I know it's not Saturday, but I'm just so bored right now that I figured I'd spice up your life by throwing you for a loop, doing something unexpected, distorting your view of how the world should work. So just deal with it. I promise that I'll probably never do it again.

Before I get started, I'd just like to share with you three observations I've made recently:

1. Even the ugliest girl in the world can be made into a super model with some degree of plastic surgery, weight loss, hair extensions, and lots of make-up. If you're an ugly guy, there's basically nothing to be done about it.

2. I think charging someone with involuntary manslaughter is gay. It was just an accident. At least change the name. Nobody wants to be called a Man Slaughterer.

3. Filibuster has nothing to do with this post. I just thought it sounded good: "Filibuster Movie Quotes". Yep, I was right.

Okay, now on to the quotes! Guess the all movies from which the quotes originate, and you get a special prize! I'm not getting my hopes up though, knowing your sad lack of variety in the movie-viewing area.

a. Become who you were born to be.

b. Do you not realize that I have had diarrhea since Easters?

c. Ketchup. Mustard. Thousand Island Dressing. Vinaigrette. This is good, Robbie. I told you to pack food.

d. Hi, I'm Bob. Would you knock me out, please? Just hit me in the face.

e. And love without trust? What of that?

f. You don't get abs like these eating peanut butter patties.

g. I think we've all arrived at a very special place. Spiritually, ecumenically, grammatically.

h. Get outta here! And don't come back for five to seven days!

i. Never in a million years, Sauvage!

j. What? And watch some fat-bottomed bobby make our arrest for us? I don't think so.

k. I'd rather die than to stay away from you.

l. What an infantile idea, what a heartless, wicked, brainless thing to do.

m. That is what happens when you sit behind a desk. You forget things, like the weight in the hand of a gun that's loaded and one that's not.

n. So, you guys popping another one anytime soon?

And just for your optical entertainment:

Still as scrumptious as ever.

Adventures with an Austrian

Long time no post, eh?

Get over it. I was gone for the weekend and when I got back I had nothing to say.

Until now.

I arrived back at my dorm to find a new roommate had moved in while I was gone. We shall call her Lavoisier. (That's a name I learned in chemistry last year that just sounds so cool. If you don't think it sounds cool, you're probably not pronouncing it right.)

Lavoisier is from Austria. She comes with brown hair, big eyes, glasses, and an accent to top all accents.

Even though I'm the one who has lived here all my life, she has been teaching me some valuable english words, including:

1. Linens = Sheets.

2. Cutlery = Silverware.

3. Cinema = Movie Theater.

Speaking of the cinema, last night Lavoisier asked me if I would like to join her in attending it.

I said (in an English accent of course), "Why of course, darling. What show will we be viewing?"

Her reply made my heart drop, eyes squint, nostrils flare, fingers twitch, shoulder pop, knee jerk, and veins stand on end.

"Eclipse."

Really? Eclipse?! Fine. Whatev. I'll just go for the sake of viewing my first show in the cinema.

And I'll pay $7.50 for it. What. Ev.

So we went. To Eclipse.

Now before I tell you my thoughts on the film, let me explain that I have only read the first book. When that one ended I thought to myself, "Hm. Not worth it." And I never read another one.

Then I saw the first movie. When it ended I thought to myself, "Hm. Not worth it." And I never saw another one.

So I really have no background knowledge of how the whole story is supposed to work, and I have no idea what happens at all in the second one, but I really didn't have a hard time understanding, even with a whole book/movie missing in my brain. Okay?

Thus, my thoughts:

First, I'm not lying or exaggerating when I say that I literally rolled my eyes and said, "Are you kidding me???" in my head during the movie. Really it was pathetic.

Second, both Edward and Jacob are unattractive so what's the big deal.

Third, don't shoot me, but I think Bella is kind of pretty. So is Alice. Kind of. This is me trying to look for the positive.

Fourth, they all suck at acting. But who am I to talk because I can't act either.

Fifth, it was exactly the same as the first one, only maybe a little less intense. They love each other, they can't be together, all he wants to do is protect her, something big and scary happens, and they win.

Sixth, what the freak? I always thought - in fact I even learned it IN SCHOOL - that the boy gives love for the sex and the girl gives sex for love. Well not in this movie people. The whole entire time, Bella is basically begging Edward for sex and he says no no no we shall wait until we are married. Is that not disgusting?? How can you like this stuff?

Last, the only good part was when Bella got on the back of Jacob's motorcycle and they drove away. I was SO JEALOUS because, like I said in previous days, I am DYING to ride on the back of a motorcycle.

In the end I was horrified that this Twilight Saga is taking over the world. It is so dumb.

Ew.

But it gets worse.

When we got back home, me, Lavoisier, and my other roomie who took me boating (we shall call her Stats) were just sitting on the couch talking, when I mentioned the "singles ward."

Lavoisier, being from Austria and not LDS, said, "What is that?"

So Stats and I explained what a ward is and therefore what a singles ward is. The whole concept is actually quite hard to explain/grasp if you've never had to do so before.

Anyway this brought on many more questions about the church and then guess what.

Lavoisier enlightened us on what Europe is telling its people right now. She said they think Twilight is all about the LDS religion and that it is the author's sneaky way of spreading it around the world. She said when she was reading it, her friend told her not to because it was just a mormon book and they were being sneaky.

I was totally disgusted. So was Stats.

Seriously? This has nothing to do with being Mormon. Ew.

We told her they were wrong so now she can go back home in 6 weeks and correct the misconceptions those Europeans have about us.

Can you believe that? Me neither.

The rest of the night included discussions of delightful treats and the difference between pie and cake.

And then we dined on freshly baked, homemade apple pie.

Bon apetite.

Oh, It's Saturday. I almost forgot.

(Since I already blew your name, I say we just forget about the anonymity of this blog, okay?)

You'll be so happy to see that I've come up with a poem in honor of YOUR date tonight. (Sorry I missed the first one, but we all know it's your fault, not mine.)

There once was a woman, 18 years of age
She'd moved out, to Logan, to begin a new page
On the second of July she returned home to see
Her beloved friend, GP, and her own family

When what to her wondering eyes did appear?
A text from Chad, a man she held dear.

Brittan,
I'd love to take you out tonight
For our second date, the 3rd of July seems about right
Fireworks, so colorful, in the air dance
Perhaps that's a metaphor for our future romance
I'll pick you up when your done chatting with your BFF
Because I'm cool like that, I'm full of respect

So Brittan agreed, and said "I'm down with that"
Her reunion with GP lasted 20 minutes flat
Then she scurried away to get ready for the date
Thinking lovingly of Chad, her future soul mate

They drove to a house, and sat down to watch the show
There was a slight breeze, but then it really started to blow
The fireworks wouldn't stay lit, no matter how hard they tried
Chad was so frustrated, he sat down and cried

Brittan came up to him and patted him on the arm,
Then she turned to the west and noticed the sky with alarm
She lifted Chad to his feet, and softly did say
With a sunset like that, who needs a fireworks display?

Brittan was not lying, it was certainly true,
The sunset that evening was a gorgeous pink hue
And that, for the couple, was a moment of bliss
Against the fiery sunset, Brittan and Chad shared their very. first. kiss.

July? Welcome.

This is what life without A/C does to you.

It's not pretty.