Russian Spies: My Childhood

As a child, one of my very favorite movies was Scamper the Penguin. It's about a feisty little penguin who learns how to swim, but gets abducted by evil poachers, and him and his girlfriend get saved by a Macaroni penguin. At least, that's as well as I can remember, but I'm a little sketchy on the details. But it's a heart-wrenching story, just trust me.

Recently I was reminiscing with my roommate about movies from my childhood, because what better way to spend my time? I started talking about Scamper, and she had no idea what I was talking about, so I looked it up for her. I googled it, and lo and behold, what did I find? This was originally co-produced by  the Soviet Union and Japan in 1986, under the name Priklyucheniya pingvinenka Lolo. On one site, a friendly Russian provides us a summary: "About entertaining adventures of penguin Lolo, about the nature and fauna of Anarctica. This film is about inhabitants of Antarctica penguins, about their existence full of dangers, about adventures of penguin Lolo who being inquisitive since the birth, learns a lot of interesting about the world, the nature, and the environment." I've been inquisitive since the birth, too, and I've learned all sorts of interesting about the world and the nature. Scamper is onto something, let me tell you.

Now, let's look at a little timeline. 
1986: Scamper the Penguin co-produced by USSR and Japan.
1991: Fall of the Soviet Union.
1990's: I repeatedly watch Scamper the Penguin.

The question arises, if this was produced by the Soviet Union in the 80's, how did my parents get it and show it to me all the time in the 90's? Probably they're Russian spies named Natasha and Igor, and I've been subliminally messaged since the birth to be a communist. Probably I'm supposed to help bring back the USSR. I mean, it's the only logical explanation. So if I start suddenly showing radically socialist leanings, you know what's going on. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Bus Adventures

As a poor college student who lives far away from campus, I take a shuttle to and from classes almost every day. This is usually fine, but I think there's something about being on the bus that brings out my irritable side. Or maybe the people on it are just the worst (this seems most likely).

First of all are the people who sing along to the bus's music. Stop. In what world is it acceptable to harmonize off-key to an annoying song in an enclosed, public area? Probably none. In this same category are those who listen to their own iPod, but sing along to that. If they have the taste to be listening to their own music instead of Taylor Swift or Fun or whatever the bus has playing they're slightly better than usual bus singers, but still, no bueno. Especially because I can't even hear what they're actually listening to! So all there is is random off-key singing. Life is hard, guys, life is hard.

Secondly are people who I vaguely know, but not well enough to keep up a conversation with for the whole bus ride. There's nothing inherently wrong with these people, it's just awkward. Usually I hope we end up sitting far away or something, so all I have to do is wave and smile, and I can count it as my good deed of the day. But sometimes for some reason they come sit by me, and then after we exchange pleasantries and small talk for a while there's that awkward silence where both of us look around, because we don't really know each other well enough to keep talking. Then someone pulls out a phone and starts texting--thank goodness for modern technology!

Then there are people who shout when they talk to their friends. I understand being excited and talking louder, but not in an enclosed public area! The other day I sat down the acceptable one seat away from somebody, because there were still plenty of open spots. Little did I know the person I had sat close to would soon be joined by a friend, who would literally be yelling about cats the entire way home. Apparently this excited the original girl as well, because she soon started yelling about her grandma. Then they saw a friend halfway down the bus and started yelling to her, too. I've read Dante's Inferno, but I think he meant to put in a tenth circle of Hell where people who yell on the bus go. Because guys, this is the worst. After fifteen minutes of it, I wanted to die. Or maybe I did. I'm still not sure.

Now, when there are lots of students loading on, all the seats get taken up and people have to stand in the aisle. This is fine. Sometimes it gets extra crowded and people end up squished together, touching probably about ten other people at once. Also fine. I mean, we're friendly, right? But every once in a while there are problematic people. People who stay by the front so they can flirt with the bus driver the whole way home, forcing everyone who comes after them to crowd into the stairwell. And it's the worst thing in the world! These are 18 year old girls I'm talking about, inconveniencing everyone else and being generally obnoxious, just so they can flirt with a married man who's years older than them and driving their public transportation! I don't know why they think this is OK, but it seriously freaks me out.

But at least they're all children of God, right?

Being Responsible

I realized the other day that I've turned into the most boring person in the world. My math teacher often doesn't show up, and when he does come, he's late. Apparently it's hard to find parking. One day we were all waiting in the classroom, watching the clock, and everyone was talking about how much they wished he wouldn't come, and saying all the fun things they would do with an extra hour. My contribution to the conversation was, "I would be totally fine if he didn't come today, because I would love to clean my kitchen!" Cue the awkward silence...

Yesterday I went to bed, but I just couldn't sleep. I thought maybe some music would help, but I couldn't even figure out what I wanted to listen to! You know it's bad when you're switching between Vocal Point and the Beatles, because you can't figure out which one you want at the moment. After laying in bed for an hour, staring at nothing in particular, and not being able to sleep at all, I figured I might as well be productive, so I got back up and, you guessed it, cleaned the kitchen. Apparently that's my thing. But hey, there are worse things I could do! Just think about it.
"Last night I couldn't sleep, and apparently I'm crazy, so...
A) I cleaned the kitchen and did dishes for my roommates.
B) I found a puppy and tortured it.
C) I took pictures of myself in a bikini and put them up on various dating sites.
D) I decided to try heroin."

So even though I'm boring and grown-up now, it could always be worse. At least I was doing something productive!

On another note, I have a love-hate relationship with laundry. I love it when I have clean clothes again; it's like getting a new lease on life. And warm clothes that have just been dried are the best things in the world. Then again, I'm always afraid I'll accidentally shrink all my shirts, even though they're dryer safe, and have gone through the dryer many, many times before. Also, I think there's some sort of rule. When putting laundry in or taking it out of the washing machine, the awkwardness of the item of clothing that inevitably falls on the floor goes up directly proportionally to the attractiveness of the people walking by. Based on anecdotal evidence from myself and my roommates, this is a fact.

So anyways, this is my life nowadays. Being a responsible adult is dumb; who does that anyways? Apparently I do...

Autumn

Guys. I'm so excited for fall. Seriously. It's the most magical time of year.

Any other time of year, if you were to ask me what my favorite season is, I'd probably say something like, "Oh, I like them all. Probably whichever one I'm in." But then September starts and I remember why autumn is the greatest thing to ever happen to this world. It's so great! No joke, I have been getting through long difficult classes by thinking about how excited I am that it's almost officially fall.

I love just about everything about this season. The trees all changing color, the crunchy leaves, the chill in the air. The excuse to wear cute rainboots on rainy days. Carving pumpkins, and also eating pumpkin based foods like pumpkin chocolate chip cookies and pumpkin rolls (let's see how many times I can say "pumpkin" in one sentence, shall we?) Halloween and Thanksgiving. (And that means Christmas is right around the corner!) The weather is cold enough to wear hoodies all the time. Thunderstorms. Have I mentioned crunchy leaves? Let me mention them again, because I love them with a fiery passion. Walking through huge piles of them makes my life complete. Oh, and on a more practical note, I also love fall because we can turn off the AC and save money.

Anyways, I'm ridiculously excited every time I walk out of a class and see all the spots of red on the mountains from the beautiful fall leaves, and I just couldn't contain my excitement anymore.

Tales of Provo

OK, so you know how everyone says BYU is dating/marriage crazy? I thought surely it wouldn't be as bad as everyone said, because how could it be, right? Well, I'm here to tell you it really is that bad. On our very first day, at new student orientation, the president was giving some speech, and talked about the importance of balancing all aspects of life, whether it be academic, spiritual, or social. Then, while talking about social lives, to a group of freshman, he started lecturing us on the importance of dating! That really happened!

I think the girls here, in general, are worse than the guys. My roommates and I have actually had people ask us, "So, do you want to get married this year?" and, "Are you getting married your freshman or your sophomore year?" Those are apparently my only two choices. Teen marriage or nothing! I mean, what's the point of even getting married after you're 20? By then you're an old lady, and your biological clock just keeps on ticking. Pretty soon I'll be obsolete. I mean, I was still around when there was a whole other planet in the sky! So I'd better get married soon, before I'm too old. However, to do that I have to look fantastic every day. Apparently it's a thing here to wear heels with jeans, and my roommate thinks it's the dumbest thing ever, so one day she asked a girl why everyone was so dressed up. The girl's reply was, "Well, what if you meet your eternal companion, and he sees you in just jeans and a t-shirt?" If that's the criteria for getting married, I've got no hope.

Another thing that everybody says down here is, "And it's free, so a great date idea!" I'm keeping track of all the crazy dating/marriage things down here on my phone, so I put that in. Then I realized that quote has to be attributed to everyone, because everyone says it all the time! Apparently that's the first thing people's minds automatically jump to if they hear about something that's free.

Some of my other favorite things from this list I've been keeping are, "Not only a great way to do service and expand your social circle, but find your eternal companion as well," from the BYUSA president (also at freshman orientation), a dating game (another thing at freshman orientation), and a free magazine with pages of dating ideas and kissing tips. This magazine just showed up outside everyone's apartment one day, along with some other ads.

Because my roommates and I are the greatest people ever, we brought brownies around to a lot of people in the ward. One of these people happens to be an RM, and we ended up staying and talking to him for a while. He said it's weird being in a freshman ward (he's an RA, and that's why he's here), because everyone thinks that just because he's an RM, marriage must be the only thing on his mind. He said how obviously that isn't true, then proceeded to tell us all about his plans for taking out every single girl in the ward, how his married friends say it's great and how he wants to get married, and all about his kissing preferences. For an hour!

The other night at about midnight, I heard singing outside my apartment, in the parking lot or something. It was a bunch of guys singing Kiss the Girl from The Little Mermaid, the part about, "Look like the boy too shy, ain't gonna kiss the girl." Then they stopped singing, and pretty soon they were all cheering instead. Because nothing adds more to a romantic moment than your date's friends popping out of a bush and singing at you, then cheering as he kisses you out of peer pressure.

And that, my friends, is Provo.

(No, but really, I'm loving it here.)

Life Lessons from Chick-Fil-A

Now that my summer job has ended, I'm reflecting on my work experiences, and thought I'd share them with you.

While working at Chick-Fil-A, I learned...

• It's amazing the lengths people will go to to either show their support or disapproval of a company's political views.
• How to make a beautiful soft serve ice cream cone (This is especially impressive if you'd seen what they looked like before I had to make them all the time at work.) 
• It's incredibly useful to have a pen in your pocket at all times, especially in the fast food business.
• Actually, to be technical, it's called quick service, not fast food.
• How to tell the difference between about 12 quarts of sweet or unsweet tea, just by looking at it.
• If you're in a cow suit, people automatically assume you're male. 
• Speaking of cow suits, it is so hot in there! Holy cow! (Bahaha, no pun intended.)
• You might think drama ends just because you're out of high school, but unfortunately, it doesn't.
• How to upsell like a champion.
• Some people are just going to be jerks, no matter what you do.
• However, most people will be friendlier and more polite if you greet them with a genuine smile.
• But be careful just how genuine that smile is, because some people will be a lot friendlier than you want. 
• It's possible to rip a stitch out of your knee while playing with kids in the food court play place.
•  You can make any awkward situation a little less awkward if you offer people mints.
• What an Arnold Palmer is.
• How to balance on the top rung of a precarious ladder while using a dull box cutter. Obviously it's a good idea to do that.
• Just how attached I'd become to my coworkers. Oh my goodness, I'm going to miss them! 

Anyways, it was a great first job! I'm actually going to miss my coworkers a lot, but it's good to be moving on with my life.

College

About two weeks before going to college, this is how I feel:

Also hoping this doesn't happen:

Dentists

Dentists have an unenviable job. I mean, they get paid bucket loads of money, but they have to stick their fingers in other people's mouths all day. They have to deal with screaming kids and cranky old people. Not very many people like them, and a visit to the dentist is a pretty surefire way to ruin anyone's day.

Personally, I don't think dentists are all that bad. I mean, I get my teeth super sparkling shiny clean, and that's good, right? As long as I don't need to get a root canal or something, it's OK to go to the dentist's.

At least, that's what I think any time I'm not actually in the dentist's office.

Last week, because of an unfortunate series of events involving cars breaking down in southern Utah, I was left stranded home alone, all day every day, with nothing to do but wash dishes and clean bathrooms. No joke. That's what I did to fill my time. Then my dad informed me of a dentist appointment for the both of us the next day. He came home early from work the next day, and we drove out to the middle of nowhere, because our dentist is approximately 52 miles from our house. We had to stop at every stoplight in the entire city, but finally reached our destination. Once there, we had to sit in the waiting room, where I was glad I'd thought to bring a book, because they have books with titles like, "You and Your Teeth: An Important Relationship," and "The Berenstein Bears Learn How to Floss." Meanwhile, they played music straight from the eighties, while I was waiting for them to just clean my teeth already and get it over with, dang it! I had important stuff to do back at home! Those floors needed to be mopped, and weren't going to wait forever! OK, I actually had nothing important to do back at home, but at least I had a computer there.

It was time for my semi-annual x-rays, so they shoved that weird plastic thing into my mouth for me to bite while they draped a heavy lead jacket around me to protect me from the radiation. Every time they do this, I bite down stoically, looking straight ahead, secretly petrified that they're going to find some horrible cancerous growth in my cheek. I can just hear it now: "Something seems to have gone wrong with the x-ray. We can't see your teeth, because this large gray spot is obscuring our view. Let's try again. Oh wait, it's not our equipment, it's you! You've got cancer. They'll have to remove your entire jaw." Luckily, I managed to make it another year without having to have that conversation. Phew.

They cleaned my teeth, which I guess wasn't that bad. They used that bubble gum flavored foam I've been getting ever since I can remember. I hear tell other people get choices of flavors, like mint, but they always forget to ask me. They've stopped asking how often I floss and brush my teeth, which is good, because I hate that question. I hate having to admit that while my brushing is great, my flossing isn't as often as it should be. I still do it, but it's really hard and time consuming with a permanent retainer. Besides, they'll probably find that out soon enough for themselves, when they're up to their elbows in my plaque. (Disclaimer: I promise my teeth are actually healthy, and I haven't had a cavity in years and years, so please don't judge me too harshly for that sentence.) The whole time I was staring intently at a spot on the ceiling, because I desperately wanted to avoid that awkward moment when you accidentally make eye contact with your dentist as their face is 5 inches away from yours, and they're up to their elbows in your plaque.

I guess the overall experience was fine, but it reaffirmed my conviction to never become a dentist. Afterwards I headed home for an exciting afternoon of cleaning my room and eating what meager food was in my house after being gone for over a week.

The Greatest Romance of my Life

So lately I've been reading my old journals. The really old ones. It's left me hoping desperately that I don't still sound like that in my journal, or I might just give up writing completely. I started my first one in the middle of fifth grade, and I'm pretty sure the only point of letting a fifth grader have a journal is so they can read it later and laugh while secretly trying to pretend that episode of life never happened. Probably that's what I should do with all my journals up till the end of 10th grade, actually. Maybe even later than that.

My first ever journal entry was me rebelliously stating I was going to stay up till midnight for New Year's Eve, even though I was supposed to go to bed. I don't know what my plan for it was; maybe watch the alarm clock change from 11:59 to 12:00, feel silently triumphant because I was supposed to be asleep, then crawl into bed? But it's a moot point, because I fell asleep around 10 anyways.

After this, I have several pages, divided up into several different entries, detailing why I thought a certain boy in my class liked me, and how gross that was. I said, "This is CRAZY! Why does he have to like me? Why can't he like someone else?" Secretly, even though I wouldn't even admit it in my own journal, that meant, "I'm so glad Jonathan likes me, because I like him, too! I sure hope he likes me!"

A typical journal entry about him went like this:
"I think Jonathan likes me. Hear are all the reasons.
1. He gave me a perfectly good pencil.
2. He talks to me a lot.
3. He's really nice to me.
4. He told me his worst fear (it's getting a shot) [After that, I pretended I was afraid of shots for a while, when I've always been fine with them.]
5. Sometimes it seems like he tries to impress me.
6. He doesn't like Christina [my best friend from elementary school] but he's nice to her when I'm around.
7. He helps me with stuff.
8. Once he was talking when I came over there and he said, 'Shh, she's here' and I was the only one in the pod.
9. He's really nice to me [Apparently that was important enough to be mentioned twice.]
10. He sits in front of me and keeps turning around to talk to me.
11. Once Christina saw him staring at me.
That's reason enough for me."

Other entries mentioned him in a more sneaky manner. My code name for him was Joanna, so a few entries mention Joanna, and how I had to write a short story for homework, so I did one about Joanna. Man, was I creepy or what?

One entry says, "New Jersey is my absolute favorite place, that and Wyoming definitely and Utah and Idaho. Specially Wyoming." There are so many problems with this entry. Number one being I only liked New Jersey because Jonathan visited there often. I think his grandparents lived there or something. Number two would be that I said, "specially," instead of "especially." Another problem is, I had the worst favorite places! Idaho? Really? I liked Wyoming because my grandma lives in Teton Valley, which is gorgeous, and I always have a good time up there, so that one at least is explainable. The only reason I even mentioned Utah and Idaho was because I felt obligated to, because I live in Utah and have lots of family in Idaho. And then there's New Jersey...Yeah, remember how creepy I was?

Probably after I got over Jonathan, I decided it was too embarrassing to have written about him at all in my journal, so everything about him is crossed out, in pencil, and is still completely legible. So much for my great fifth grade romance.

Crazy Customer of the Week

Because I work in a fast food restaurant, I encounter all sorts of crazy people. Or even people who are probably pretty normal, but just don't know how to order food. Or people who are just plain creepy. Because I need to do something to entertain myself at work (other than hanging out with my super awesome coworkers) (or should I say, cow-workers! Ahaha) (Get it? It's Chick-Fil-A, and we've got cows...never mind), I choose one person each week who's extra crazy, and mentally award them ,"Crazy Customer of the Week." There have been some pretty good ones. Well, depending on how you define "good"...

There was the girl who asked for three "melkshakes," then dumped a huge pile of quarters on the counter. As soon as she did, she started laughing really loudly and obnoxiously, and continued to do so the whole time I counted them. I went and made 3 shakes, and by the time I got back, she was still laughing. She walked away with her shakes, still laughing like this was the funniest thing she's ever done.

There was the balding guy in his forties or fifties who I don't think realized I was a minor, and flirted with me the whole time. I mean, it would still be creepy even if I wasn't a minor, because I'm still way younger than him, but really? It was just awful. And he had a complicated order, so it took a while to come out, and the whole time he was waiting, he lurked right by my register, and kept interrupting other customers to say things full of innuendo and creepiness. And when I asked for a name for the order, he said, "Kristina." I explained that I needed his name, not mine, because they would call it to give him his food, and he said, "Just put Kristina. I'll know who they mean."

I'm pretty sure one of the ladies who came in the other day was higher than a kite, and she kept asking to replace a kid's meal toy with some other type of food, like more nuggets.
Customer: "Hi...uh...can I get a kid's meal? But I want to replace the toy with more nuggets."
Me: "Do you just want to get a normal meal? Those don't have toys, and they come with more nuggets."
C: "No, I need a kid's meal...Can I get fruit?"
Me: "Instead of fries? Absolutely"
C: "No, I want both...Can I get fruit instead of the toy?"
Me: "No, fruit is only a side. If you don't want the toy, you can get ice cream instead."
C: "I get ice cream too? OK, I need that. And also fruit."
Me: "So you want to get fries in the kid's meal, and extra fruit on the side? And ice cream in place of the toy."
C: "No, I don't want to get anything extra...Can I just have fruit instead of the toy?"
Finally she talked to a manager, who told her the same things I'd been saying. I don't know what she ended up getting, but hopefully she got her fruit.

Then there was this super awkward guy, who came up and started talking to me by saying, "I was sitting in the food court, looking at your menu, and also sometimes you for entertainment. So I hope you weren't creeped out."  In between slowly and ponderously giving me his order, he kept talking to me. He came in close to closing, so people were starting to sweep and mop the floor, and he literally talked for seven minutes straight about how we know the right way to clean floors, and how if he owned a restaurant the kitchen would be sparkling, and how kitchens at the U have cockroaches, and how he washes dishes for a living and it gets really old after 8 hours, but boy do we know the right way to clean, because look at that amazing mopping technique. Seven minutes! As soon as I took his order it went up on a screen with a timer, so that's an accurate time. And that turns out to be an eternity when you can't get a word in edgewise and are wondering if he's ever going to pay. There was a line, and they were all looking at him, then at me, then laughing or smiling sympathetically. I smiled back at them, because this whole situation was just ridiculous, but I think he thought I was responding to him, so it only encouraged him to keep talking for even longer. Those were possibly the worst seven minutes of my life.

Some customers just have odd ways of phrasing things. It's surprisingly common for them to say, "I need..." No, this is fast food, and I promise you, you don't need it. By all means, continue to eat here, because you're providing for my livelihood, but really, you don't need those fries and a shake. And somebody yesterday said, "I'm going to steal two water bottles," as he handed me his credit card. Obviously there was no stealing going on.

Another thing I've come to realize is there's a special voice for, "I'm reading your name off a tag, but also hitting on you." The only people who ever use my name are either parents with small children, or guys hitting on me. The difference is, "Thank you so much, Kristina. Can you tell Kristina thank you?" vs "Hey there...Kristina."

The Story of How I Got the First Stitches of my Life

WARNING: This story is ridiculously long, and also has gross gory details.

So last Saturday my friend Nels had a party up at his cabin in Big Cottonwood Canyon. Before I went, my mom was very insistent that there had to be at least one adult there, in case a horrible accident happened. I thought she was being slightly ridiculous and over protective, because obviously nothing would happen, but Nels's parents were there, so it all worked out. We were having a grand old time hanging out in the mountains, in all the trees and rocks and undergrowth around his cabin, and it started moving slightly toward evening, so we started playing night games. We wanted to do ghost in the graveyard or murder in the dark, but both of those work better when it's actually dark, so we decided to play capture the flag till it got dark enough for the other games. We were playing capture the flag, and it was getting darker, but everything was still good. Almost everybody got a few scratches and scrapes from all the bushes, especially because most of us were wearing shorts, but they weren't anything big.

I was far in enemy territory, when Seth started chasing me. He caught up with me and tagged me, so I set off in search of the jail, because it was hidden somewhere in the woods. I had seen earlier that there was some wire on the ground in places, but hadn't thought anything of it. Not just one strand of wire, but several, like a fence had fallen over or something. I was running towards the jail, when my foot got tangled up between two strands of wire I hadn't seen, and I fell over. I tried standing back up, but couldn't, and that was when I realized it was barbed wire, and one of the barbs was sticking into my leg, in my calf behind my knee. Whenever I tried to move my leg, I could see the skin just stretching out, farther than I ever thought skin could stretch. The barb was in at an angle, and you could see the contours of it under my skin, but it was not coming back out. I reached back there to feel what it was like, and my hand came away wet with blood. Strangely, it didn't hurt, and I thought it should probably be hurting like crazy, but I think it was my body's way of coping. It wasn't like when the doctor gives you anesthesia and everything is completely numb, but it was a different type of numb, probably caused by shock and adrenaline. In the background of the numb I was vaguely aware of a fiery burning feeling, but it just didn't hurt. However, my brain knew exactly what was going on, and I started freaking out, because the thought of being stuck in barbed wire is pretty horrific. I started screaming, "Nels! I'm caught in barbed wire! It is inside of me! I can't get out!" with a rising feeling of panic. Pretty soon Nels came running over, along with Justus. Justus is adorable and innocent, and seemed traumatized by this new turn of events, and went to go get Nels's dad, and also a flashlight, because it was dusk and hard to see anything. Nels was looking at the barb, trying to get it out, but it was a really weird angle, and dark-ish, so it was quite helpful when Justus came back with a flashlight. I've got no idea what happened to him after that, or who else was there watching me, but I did keep screaming for a little while that I was caught in barbed wire, because I had this strange fear that the game would continue without me, and someone would come tag Nels out for being on the wrong side, and he would have to go to jail, and I'd never get out, so I had to let everyone know of my predicament. Nels shouted, "Seth, get over here!" and Seth came running over, where he was instructed to pull the barb out while Nels held the flashlight. Seth sounded panicked, too, and his voice was all shaky, and asked if he could hold the flashlight while Nels pulled the barb out. So, Nels pulled for at least 5 minutes, trying to get it out, and it wasn't coming. Shock was setting in, and I was trying to balance on one leg and my hands, leaning backwards at a crazy angle, while not moving my other leg, and holding it off the ground, and trying not to get stuck by any more barbs. The numbed, fiery feeling intensified with all the pulling, which seemed to last forever. Besides my irrational fear that nobody would know what had happened to me and keep playing, I was afraid they wouldn't be able to get my leg free and I'd have to be dragged to the hospital trailing a sheet of barbed wire. After pulling hard for a long time, Nels got the barb out, and his hands were all covered in blood, along with his shorts, and I was glad I don't have AIDS. Two people helped me back to the cabin, but it wasn't my injured leg that needed the support; it was my other leg that was weak and shaky, from having to balance on it for the ten minutes (at least) I'd been caught in barbed wire.

At the cabin, Nels's dad had gotten all the first aid supplies ready, and he and Nels started cleaning up all the blood, and cleaning the puncture and cuts. I guess my screaming had worked, because everybody else came in, and while I was being cleaned up, Seth told me all about what happens when you get tetanus, ending in death. I was in shock, and laughing a bit hysterically, while tears were streaming down my face, and I kept saying I didn't know why I was crying, because it really didn't hurt. Then Justus looked like he was on the verge of tears, and said, "Just looking at you is making me want to cry," so I had to calm down and be brave for him. After a while, I looked down and saw another puncture and more cuts on the front of my knee, that I had had no idea existed. I kept finding more insignificant cuts as well, and asked Nels if he had cleaned every single one of them. He had, because he's incredibly efficient like that. I was also so glad I had shaved that morning, because there were a bunch of guys all looking at my legs and feeling them, just to clean up the blood, but still. My injury put a bit of a damper on the party, and we never did play ghost in the graveyard. I called my mom to let her know what had happened, and while I was walking around talking to her, my leg that had been in barbed wire felt just fine, but a tiny insignificant scratch from a bush or something was really hurting. We finally left the party, and I got back to my house at about 11.

My mom thought I needed stitches, so we went to the ER, the only place open that late. My leg still didn't hurt, but I had forgotten how much hospitals stress me out, and as soon as I was led to a room, my heart started pounding and I got freaked out again. But I was there for so long that I got used to it, and we finally left at 2:30 AM. I told so many people what had happened, it sort of lost its meaning, but when the doctor came in and said, "Oh, these are just tiny little holes, and these cuts aren't bad at all," I was indignant, and said, "Well I was caught in barbed wire..." because he was trivializing my wounds! I ended up getting a tetanus shot, antibiotics to take for 10 days, they glued the worst cuts shut, and I got 5 stitches in each puncture, so 10 in all. Apparently to give me the anesthesia for the stitches, the doctor stuck the needle down into the hole and poked it around, giving me several shots, which explained why it hurt so much. Afterwards my mom said, "I learned something new about mending fabric from watching you get stitches! When there's a triangular tear, you just have to cut all the flaps off, and then you can sew it up!" Great, Mom. I'm glad my wounds are so instructional.

Right as we were getting ready to leave, there was this insistent pounding at a door, so the angry old male nurse got up and opened them, and this drunk sounding guy said, "My buddy cut his arm..." while the nurse was screaming, "No! Go away! You're at the wrong door! Gah! You're getting blood everywhere!"  
"My buddy cut his arm..."
"No, don't come through here! There's blood everywhere! Don't drop that!"   *CRASH*
"He's hurt real bad..."
"Aaah! Don't go in there! You're naked!"

Finally he forced them through the correct doors, and came back into my room saying, "I hate grad night."

Tobacco

Whoa. You know you haven't blogged in a while when you get on and the entire set up is different than it was last time.

Anyways.

"Tobacco is a new industry that literally makes the world go round." That from one of the lovely ladies in my gov class. How does she define new? I got some new jeans the other day. They were from DI, and looked like they were a couple generations old, and when I say the other day, I actually mean a couple years a go. But they were kind of beat up. They were literally full of holes.

This is why general classes are the worst, but in a highly entertaining way.

Nostalgia

Sorry that I'm the worst at updating. In my defense, I've been really busy. With a play! It was Agatha Christie's Mousetrap, and it was absolutely awesome. Definitely one of the best high school plays I've ever been associated with.

There are oh so many things I love about being involved with high school theater. I love getting to meet so many new amazing people. A lot of my friends do theater, and obviously they're awesome, but I also get to meet brand new people, and be with them basically 24/7 for a couple weeks. It forces people to spend time together who usually wouldn't, but who actually end up having a good time with each other.

I also love getting to use power tools! There is something incredibly satisfying about seeing how all the screws and flats and platforms and paint and tears finally come together in the end to make a set. Also, I think it might just be my egotistical side, but I really like the feeling of being able to say, "Oh, you can't get that screw in? I can," or, "Oh, that screw is stripped? Don't worry, I can get it out, because I'm awesome."

Another thing I love is the paint room. It's a tiny little washroom tucked away in a back corner of the auditorium, down a hallway not many people ever go down. You go in, and it's got a drain in one corner, in a tub sort of thing. There's a hose that's been paint stained over the years, and the handles on the faucet also have paint splotches on them. It used to have writing and handprints painted all over the walls, but those were semi-recently painted over with a layer of tan paint, which now covers all the walls. There's a single folding chair next to the tub, for the designated brush/roller washer to sit on, and there are a few other chairs, and a large barrel, where rollers can be placed to dry. There are also cockroaches in there, which is gross when you're not wearing shoes. It's tiny and claustrophobic and smells weird, but I absolutely adore that place. I thought everyone did, till someone was showing a new techie around and said, "This is the paint room. Nobody likes it." But it's great to sit in there and contemplate life while you're washing out rollers and freezing your hands in the frigid ice water.

Also, backstage is pretty much the greatest place ever. Tech has to be there during the shows, but obviously they can't be onstage, so they get to hang out backstage and associate with other techies and with the actors when they're not onstage. One thing I liked about Mousetrap was it was a really small cast, so there weren't crazy actors running around all over the place getting in the way, and I could get to know and love all the cast.

Unfortunately, it's over now. My last show in high school. Done. It was actually surprisingly sad. And then I made the shocking realization that I'll go through this again in a few months, but saying goodbye to an even wider range of people, and never again to return to high school. WEIRD. How on earth did I end up so old?

Valentine's Day

In commemoration of Valentine's Day, I thought I'd share some cheesy pick up lines. There's not much time left to use them today, but at least now you've got time to practice them for next year!

• If I were to ask you on a date, would your answer be the same as the answer to this question?
• There's something wrong with my phone. Your number's not in it.
• Do you like water? Then you like 60% of me!
• Rejection can lead to emotional stress for both parties involved and emotional stress can lead to physical complications such as headaches, ulcers, cancerous tumors, and even death! So for my health and yours, JUST SAY YES!
• You're almost as hot as a flamin' hott cheetoh!
• Excuse me, but does this smell like chloroform to you?
• How much does a polar bear weigh? Enough to break the ice! Hi, I'm...

Happy Valentine's Day!

Note to Self

Actually, by self, I mean entire choir class.

*Ahem.* Next time you learn a song for a district concert that you'll be singing with two other schools, make sure you know what language everyone else is learning it in first. Today we came prepared to sing our little hearts out in Latin (I think that's what it was), and lo and behold, we started singing the song, and everyone else was singing in Russian! Russian! Who sings songs in Russian anyways? It ended up being OK, because everyone else was using the music anyways, so we just shared with them. But still, it was ridiculous.

Hipsters

Turns out I'd forgotten what general classes are like. Turns out that's a really good thing. General classes are the worst! Unfortunately, they're sort of necessary for that graduation thing, so I bit the bullet and am taking US Gov. Today we were having a class discussion on meritocracies, and whether or not the US is one. Instead, everyone got sidetracked on how not everyone can be a millionaire, which is the American dream, so the US obviously operates on a caste system, quite similar to ancient India. Duh.

They also talked about the 1% for a while, which made me smile. Then Hipster Girl chimed in. Oh my goodness, she is so hipster! She was wearing a romper, with moss green tights, and big ol' combat boots, and had dreds, and hemp bracelets and everything! She also apparently works at a cafe. She's the best! She was also the only one making intelligent comments about how a meritocracy does not mean everyone's a millionaire, it means everyone is rewarded based on their talent. And then she skyrocketed to the top of my list of favorite people ever by saying, "Yeah, but do we really need to label people like that? Labels are just so cliche," and other such things. It was so great. Ah, hipsters.

Another ironic thing about gov is the poster at the front of the class. It's some quote that says to question authority and always think for yourself. The teacher read this aloud to us, and then proceeded to talk at length about how incredibly important it is that we think for ourselves! Really guys, you can't just internalize what other people tell you, you need to come up with your own ideas. Do you have that? Need me to repeat it so you can have it tattooed across your forehead and read it in the mirror every morning?

Also, in case you were wondering, my pants have not shown up yet. I fear they've been lost in the void forever.

First Impressions

So I'm joining the track team. I though it would be fun and healthy and all that good stuff, and I'm actually really excited for it! A lot of my friends are doing it, too. Today was the physical, and it was actually OK. Here are a few of my thoughts.

OK, first of all, some of those questions we need to answer are a wee bit ridiculous. "Are you stressed?" Right now? Yes! All these ridiculous questions have stressed me out, and I don't know any of the dates of my previous immunizations, and I'm about to take a physical, and every time I do something like that I'm certain they'll find out I have cancer or something! But in general? No. So what do I answer? I'll say no, because that's probably what they want us to say.

Also, the coach is really nice. Because it's track, there are a lot of different things you can do for it, and different coaches for all the things, but there's one coach over everything, and he's great. He's also specifically in charge of medium distance, which is what I'm going to do, so he was super excited when I told him.

Of course, there were some awkward moments, too, because my life is always awkward. Everyone who needed a physical was in this one little room, and it was mostly silent. I was whispering with one of my friends for some of the time, but then I had to finish filling out my form thing, which was awkward with him watching me, so I moved. So then they started my physical, which was kind of worrying, because I really hate having to be seen by doctors, and being in hospitals, or anybody looking at anything about me, because for some reason I'm sure there will be something wrong with me, and obviously ignoring problems is the best solution. (Luckily, there didn't end up being anything wrong with me.) Anyways, the room was silent, and the doctor/nurse person was asking me questions like my birthday, and how tall I am. Those are easy, so I had no problem answering with everyone being able to hear. Then he asked how much I weigh, which was definitely awkward in this room full of people all listening to what I said. So I dropped my voice and answered, hoping no one could hear me. Apparently they couldn't, but then my friend made fun of me anyways for being self conscious.

Another awkward moment came when I was leaving. I was just about the last person to go, and was gathering all my stuff. I'd changed into gym shorts for the warm-up, so my normal clothes were by my backpack and coat. My shirt and shoes were in a bag, but there hadn't been room for my jeans in there, so they were on top of the rest of my stuff. Everybody's backpacks and clothes were all piled together in one corner of the room, though, and somebody must have grabbed my jeans by mistake, because they definitely weren't there when I was looking for them. At first the shock of not being able to find them came out when I said loudly, "Where are my pants?!" Then everybody left in the room gave me funny looks. It was great.

16% Original

Today as my sister was sitting in the kitchen, she noticed something that was on a juice bottle on the table. On the label, it proudly boasted that it was organic. OK, that's good. No horrible preservatives, no artificial coloring, no other weird artificial things. It then went on to say, "16% real fruit juice!" So organic! And on the ingredient list, it turned out the "real fruit juice" was from concentrate. But good news, every single thing on the ingredient list had the word "organic" in front of it. Organic fruit juice from concentrate, organic sugar, etc. I bet that sugar was made from at least 16% sugar cane!

Winter Wonderland

It snowed! I'm so happy! Also, it's weird that I'm feeling a little weirded out that it's snowing. I mean, it's January. That's what it's supposed to do. Yet after waking up this morning and seeing snow outside my window, I still thought, "What? Why is it doing this? This doesn't happen." I guess that's what just having gotten through the driest December on record does to me.

Some people aren't very happy about this new snowfall, but I think they are crazy! Now the world is white and beautiful and magical and wonderful. Yes, it's cold, but news flash! It was before, too. But before it was even more depressing, because it was still cold, and the grass was all dead and yellow, and the inversion was looming over the valley looking disgusting and making my throat all gross, and it was just...dismal. Now it's like the world has a new take on life; a clean slate. A fluffy, white, wonderful, clean slate.

And to those people who don't like the snow, I say, "This is winter! In UTAH! This is what it's supposed to do! Now stop complaining and go build a snowman." Alas, I cannot build a snowman myself, because I'm stuck inside doing homework all day, but at least I can be happy every time I glance out the front window and see how pretty it is.

Oh, and I suppose I might change my mind after it's been snowing for two months, and there are rock hard drifts on all the corners that won't melt, and have been turned black by all the passing cars, but for now I'm pretty dang excited.

2011

Well, another year has come and gone. And I think it was actually pretty good! I didn't do anything hugely exciting, like backpack through Europe or or develop a new type of bio-fuel, but overall I'm happy about it. There were a lot of small things that made it great.

I went on a trip to LA with a bunch of crazy teenagers. I made new friends and strengthened old friendships. I developed a strange affinity for Smith's. I gave away my rabbit I've had for five and a half years (sad face). I decided to learn to play the guitar and made hesitant steps in that direction. I applied to and got into some colleges (woohoo!) I sent my brother off on a mission. I did more homework in a short period of time than I thought possible. I had to go to the pediatrician and felt ridiculous, because everyone else there was about seven years old. A bison passed by so close to our car that it was brushing the sides of the car. I got my ears pierced and let the holes close up again a couple months later. I went repelling in the Grand Tetons. I spent a ridiculous amount of time at parks. I made a bucket list, and also accomplished several items on it. I jumped into a pool with all my clothes on. I went on an overnight hike. I (very unsuccessfully) tried to learn to ride a bike. I put the "pro" in procrastinate. I finally got a cell phone! I learned more about poster making than I ever wanted to know, all in the name of school spirit and leadership.

Yep, it was a great year. I'm sure there were several other awesome things, but I can't think of them right now.

Also, now seems like a good time to make some New Year's resolutions, before I get sucked into homework (and obviously writing this is a good alternative to doing that). So. I hereby resolve to...

1. Procrastinate less. Really.
   
2. Read at least 1 new book/play a month.
3. Exercise more.
4. Eat more fruits and veggies.
5. Go to college! After graduating from high school! That would be good to do.
6. Curb my sarcasm.
   

Yeah, that's all for now. I know that going to college isn't so much a resolution as a goal, but it's important to me!