I guess he didn't get an A in geography...

I had recently added a psychology class to my schedule. Because I was two weeks late entering the class, I needed to stay after to talk to the teacher about what I've missed. My teacher is a grad student who looks like he's twelve. But I'm not judging.

As he was flipping through his folder, looking for a syllabus for me as well as other class materials, he started making small talk.

Teacher: So....where are you from?

Me: Taiwan

Teacher: Yeah? That's really cool. What do you like to do?

Me: I like to cook.

Teacher: Oh really? That's great! Do you make a lot of Thai food?

Me: Not particularly...no. Haha.

Teacher: No? You've never made good Thai food? Like pad thai? Do you even like Thai food?

Me: I love Thai food...I've just never made any.

Teacher: I bet your parents love Thai food huh?

It wasn't until this point in the conversation that I realized he wasn't just living up to his looks of a weird, geeky grad student. He was mistaking Taiwan for Thailand. But again, I'm not judging. It's a common misconception.

Charitable deed.

I participate the crap out of my night class. Not because the grad student who teaches it is any good. Nor is it because my classmates make it the best two and a half hours of my life. It is because my teacher is so bad, and my classmates so dull, that I feel the need to pipe up in class like never before. If I don't, the silence that causes my teacher's face to look so crestfallen makes me almost want to cry.

Golf Carts

This post has nothing to do with golf. It's more so about the fact that every time I see a golf cart filled with prospective BYU students and their parents touring our lovely campus, I feel like I'm in the movie Stepford Wives. But instead of being around "perfect wife" robots, I'm surrounded by "perfect student" robots. It makes me want to run around and create some sort of scene to see if I get any reaction other than disapproval. And hopefully at the same, make those prospective students think twice about wanting to go to BYU. And not just BYU, they should really think long and hard before applying to any university they'll be stuck in for the next four years....or five if you're an underachiever like me.

Do something artsy, throw glitter at a cat!

Today was, well, it was a day. I am taking four credits this semester so I spend a lot of time at work and a lot of time thinking. See, that's when my problems set in. My thoughts set up camp and have my problems over for tea rendering my body totally incapable of speaking a complete, cohesive sentence. Yada, yada, yada, that's not the point. The point is this...I used to be so much fun! Finally, my four credit semester will allow me to be fun again. So, thoughts, problems, my brain is taking an extended vacation. We'll visit you in the summer.

In other news, The Ninja has made contact! In fact, she wants to go on an outing this weekend. She will make her appearance at Nordstrom. Which one, I do not know. Here is the proof:

Jayne: Want to go to Nordstrom this weekend?
Spencer: Yes. I'd love to. Can we skip in the store?
Jayne: I was thinking we should choreograph a dance. Or maybe play a game of bridge in the shoe department.
Spencer: That'd be the adult thing to do.
Jayne: I don't know the meaning of the word.

Slightly Pessemistic Christmas Cheer

I've been feeling a bit nostalgic lately with the semester coming to an end. I always look forward to the semester ending, but for some reason when the end is near, I keep hoping for the end to be a little farther away. I guess I just always hate having to say a final goodbye. To those boys and girls that always made eye contact with me, grinned and then looked down guiltily during class prayers....I'll never forget you. I hope we keep in touch through technological means. To the girl who still shuns me because of that one time I snorted during the professor's spiritual thought....I've already forgotten the plans I had to anger you more. I hope you all savor these last couple of weeks of school while you can. Soon instead of paying to be bored, you'll look for a place to be bored with pay. Instead of rolling your eyes to your professor's faces, you'll be rolling your eyes behind your bosses backs. OR maybe you are loving school right now and will have an AWESOMELY exciting job in the future. To those people....I have no words for you. Happy Holidays everyone!

Feeling the spirit

I hope no one is offended by this post. Please know that any offense is unintentional.

I had my D&C class today. It's really not my favorite. I've been pretty fortunate this semester with how much I've been enjoying my classes. But I guess it was too much to hope for all of them to be great. I'll admit. In that class, I'm not the most attentive student. I'll play the occasional games on my phone, and have texting conversations with a few friends. But while doing these things, I'm always listening intently to whatever the professor is saying. Sometimes even pausing Bejeweled to write down some spiritual notes.

Today, while I was in the middle of a solitaire winning streak, I heard my professor say,

"now, I bet you guys are all wondering how I have all this wisdom and knowledge about the gospel. Well. You guys can have it too; if you will pray."

I don't know if it's the stress that I've been under this week. But I could not hold back what was the LOUDEST snort I have ever produced in my 22 years. I felt bad as soon as I let it out. But that feeling of shame immediately passed when the girl in front of me turned around and gave me the biggest crusty her average looking face was capable of giving. So, in return. I grinned at her. I think this was the first time anyone's ever turned away from me in a huff.

Dear Uptight (it says a lot when I call someone uptight) girl in D&C class,
I'm sorry if my snort took away the spirit you were undoubtedly feeling in that freezing classroom which smelled like ham sandwiches. From now on I'll stick to my usual silent eye roll. But thank you for making D&C more eventful today.

Jayne

Potentially dangerous and oddly correct

I may not cure cancer or discover the next major technological miracle. I probably will not alter the social nature of an entire generation. I doubt I will write a book, create a company, or start a trend. I am uncertain about my future and fear my own discouragement. But, I do know, right now, that I'm ok.

Written back in May, these thoughts stayed locked away but the thronging masses of readers begged for a window into my soul. So eat your hearts out. Cause this probably won't be happening again.

May 14, 2009

I hit my mid-life crisis a few years back. I'm only 24. Does this mean that my life is half over? Not important. My mid-life crisis has spanned nearly two years of my life. I have a feeling its about to end. Yet, it is experiences like last night while I am lying on Jayne's bed and her head is on my back and we are talking, not just talking, but discovering ourselves through words, that remind me my mid-life crisis is still starring me down. Jayne, in my opinion, is still young at heart. At the age of 21 she still frets about her high school mascot and if her BFF is happily married. I would never belittle her feelings; they are legitimate and sincere. She lives in "fear" (for lack of a better word) of the people who should be her mentors. That worries me; She is worried. Despite this anxiety, Jayne and I have learned that love is 'selectively unconditional.' She wouldn't agree with me (she'd probably be pretty angry at me for saying that) but, her love is just that--selective and unconditional. She gives what she can and what she gives she uses her whole self to give. But, she is selective with whom she shares that love with. It's quite amazing how she does that. So, we are laying on her bed and I kind of surrender myself to her. I let my guard down. She is one of the few people who I feel comfortable enough to show my true self. She can know the real me. I was feeling pretty tender and vulnerable. I know she can sense the hopelessness on my breath. "Why do I feel so unimportant?" I think I ask the really hard questions and expect her to have all the really right answers. She doesn't. But, she doesn't profess to having them either. But, she understands me the most when I lower my protective wall and invite her in. And then, one of us does something immature like snorting or faking a seizure. I think we do that because we are afraid of the unknown. It's easier to just forget the pain for a few seconds than to indulge ourselves in it.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder

You might have assumed from the title that this post might be about me missing someone or realizing how much I liked a person. Well, that is false. Fortunately for my friends, if I like them, I never let them out of my sight. So I wouldn't know what it's like to miss them.* Ask Spencer Cawley. It's been about 12 hours since I last saw him and I have half a mind to barge into his current class just so I can have a small glimpse of his slim physique and full head of hair.

Today I realized how much I've missed school. 2 out of the 3 people who will eventually read this post will probably want to slap me after reading that. To those two people: I know what you're thinking; I don't care.

What I miss isn't the stressing over exams, homework and the occasional mind numbingly boring lectures. What I miss are the chuckle worthy moments on campus that I have a hard time finding anywhere else. Some examples:

1. Today I saw a boy on campus. This boy was wearing a pink t-shirt with white letters. On the front it said: I love BYU. I walked passed him and chose to turn around for another look. The back of his t-shirt said: Just kidding. I chuckled all the way to my next class. (Right after walking past that guy I actually saw another guy with a t-shirt that said "sh*t" on it. I would have chuckled at that as well, but it was JUST too inappropriate.)

2. I sit next to a man in biology 100 (I say man because he looks 30 and is always in a shirt and tie). Today is the second time that we've sat next to each other. Today I noticed something unique about him. He uses a Pulse smartpen. I really need to be his study buddy because when I can't remember what the definition of science is, I'll be able to read his notes AND listen to it.

3. Spencer Cawley texting me stuff like, "Someone's sitting in my seat!" On the second day of a non-assigned seats class.

So there you have it. Reasons why I've missed school. Here's to an enjoyable semester.

*Sometimes under unavoidable circumstances, I do spend less time than I would like with my friends. And to those friends....I'm sorry. I wish I could see you more.

Diligent studying

Spencer and I like to study together. (Well, I enjoy studying with him, I don't know if my feelings are reciprocated) I believe it keeps us focused. And by focused I mean we only get distracted a couple of times an hour instead of once every fifteen minutes. Occasionally one of us will nudge the other in order to share something interesting we found on either Facebook (Spencer), or PEOPLE (Me). If there isn't anything exciting on either of those websites, we then resort to watching the people around us and pointing out the ones that fascinate us. You might think that it is as though I'm speaking of cattle when I talk about BYU students in such a way. But in a sense, they are. Mooing around in the library, sniffing each other's butts trying to mate, and then having the audacity to call it "dating." Don't bring that nonsense onto campus. NEWS: That's what church and FHE is for.

ANYWAY

A few weeks back, Spencer and I were studying in the kitchen at his house. It was around 9 o'clock at night when I finished with all of my assignments. I caught up on my celebrity news, and when that was done, I turned to legitimate news. You can imagine my distress when after reading EVERYTHING (that was interesting) about the 29th of March, Spencer was STILL working hard on his landscaping project. So I kept myself entertained by taking videos on my cell phone.


Note to self: Work a little harder on your school work and you won't look like a fool.

I have no desire to hear from you again.

I guess this blog has turned into more of my monthly rantings. Who reads it anyway other than my pretend grandmother who lives in a classy home in the Hamptons. This morning I logged on to blackboard to check up on my grades. I have been finished with finals for 3 days now. However, the Humanities TA (who is male and comments on rippling muscles) has yet to update the grades. He asked for us to email him with the scores of the assignments missing. In his words (actually paraphrasing here), "Since you claim to have turned in all assignments, you must have misplaced them when you turned them in." Ok, so I misplaced them in that ONE pile at the front of the room? Hum, maybe if you spent less time on the ripply muscles and more time on what you are paid to do, we wouldn't have this issue. Anyway, to my dismay, the missing scores have still not been updated; I email him last week. BUT, he was able to put up the scores to our final papers. My sweat, blood, and tears when into that paper. The result, a mediocre (acceptable) score with absolutely no justification for the score given. Tell me, Internet, why is it that a professor gets all the credit for teaching the class and determining the grades when it's the TA who is piddling around with the red pen and imaginary rubric? I am making a call to all professors to hand out a rubric with their assignments. If you have expectations, you best be telling your students what those expectations are. Grading does not have to be subjective.

In addition to the moronic TA, I have had to deal with the worst of the worst today at work. 'Girl 'A wanted to be reimbursed for $600 of traveling costs. We agreed to help her with that but she is required to show proof of purchase. She claimed she could not get a copy of a particular receipt. SO, I prepared a missing receipt affidavit, sent her an email asking her to come in to sign it, and basically made the procedure as painless as possible. She griped the whole time about how I didn't understand what was going on. Hum, listen girly, I AM THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN COMPLAIN TODAY!

'Girl B' walked into my office and asked to see the dean. "Have you made an appointment? Is there a particular reason you need to see him?" Her response, "I just need to." Oh, you bet, let me run right in to his office and tell him to drop EVERYTHING. This one student needs to talk to you. Her reason for seeing the dean: she needed to take a final in our conference room. Yep, as the receptionist and the person that schedules the room, I could never have answered that question for you.

'Man C' comes in to the office all panicked. "Why is no one here for the meeting at 2?" Ok, calm down. I have never seen you before so let's start from the beginning . . . "What meeting?" Once again, no meeting was scheduled in the room that I schedule. I even asked him if a specific person was going to be in that meeting. He said, no. Then the associate dean walked out of his office and asked him the same question. Man C said, "Why, yes he is going to be there." WHAT?!?! Do I look that incapable?

And finally, 'Professor D' walked in and asked if anyone would be available on Monday to sign is ever so important grant proposal. I told him yes. His response, "Are you sure?" My response, "You caught me! No one will be here on Monday. In fact no one is here right now. This is just a hologram!"

I hope I don't lose my job.

Activity day just isn't what it used to be

I know that last week I "acted out" with my post about how I hate BYU. Okay, I don't HATE BYU more like BYU has contributed to my depression and lack of self-esteem. But how can you blame me for feeling blue when my university has a student alumni association which offers activities like this:That's right kids, a PROFESSIONAL ETIQUETTE DINNER! Business attire is required.

What about other schools around this great state? They get to do stuff like this:

• University of Utah: Humanities Happy Hour. Now in its seventh year, the Humanities Happy Hour is retaining its status as the most infamous of community and alumni activities. Join us every third Tuesday of the month at Squatters brewpub for excellent food, lively conversation, the best beverages in the state (for those who imbibe), and the timely, timeless, and always provocative Intellectual Hors d’oeuvres- a ten minute talk by College of Humanities faculty and Salt Lake Community Members.
• Utah Valley University: Concert(s). Face it, no other institute of higher education in Utah Valley will host main stream music. Honestly, BYUSA, battle of the bands was so last decade!
• Utah State University: Possibly more boring than BYU. Sorry, scoped out their website for events. The flute choir sounds more BYUish than singing hymns on Sunday night in the Marriott tunnel. This might be the only time I am grateful I am at BYU.
  
• Southern Utah University: Vagina Monologues. 'Nuff said.

So, while I'm "kickin' it with honor" I hope none of you get jealous that your student ID card won't get you into such high profile events.

*Note on battle of the bands: "The annual battle of for the title of the best band at BYU. After a round of tryouts, eight finalists perform in this show." Also, keep in mind these bands are to re-create LDS hymns in rock-band-style while keeping the sacred nature of these hymns in mind.

Another Reason To Hate BYU!

I hate BYU. I have since the day I stepped foot on campus. I wont name specific reasons why; I fear that I will cause unneeded stress between important people. Today, I stepped into the I.D. Card Center so that I might get my new student I.D. which is required, by law, for all students to renew. Hand over your old I.D. Answer the following questions: Have you shaved today? I said no. The attendant asked me to leave. I even mentioned to her that I never shave daily, I can't. I would shave off my skin if I did that. Here is a picture of my face one hour AFTER I attempted to get my new I.D.

Dear BYU I.D. center,
There are many reasons as to why I should have been turned away from your office today. Here is MY list of reasons. 1) I have acne problems. I even think I may have a zit inside my nose! 2) My eyebrows are overgrown. 3) My teeth are less white due to my obsession of drinking CAFFINE. Asking me if I was on my first day shave is like asking a girl if she is on the first day of her period. Are you serious? I've never been asked to leave the testing center, my office, the library, nor even church (even though sometimes I wouldn't mind if asked to leave).

Look at this (offensive/annoying/self-righteous?) advertisement on the door of the I.D. center:
As my friend Curtis said, "Who's quote is this anyway?" I never want to be friends with any of these people involved in this poster. I am afraid I might scare them away with my wild, immodest behaviors--not to mention my excess facial hair.

Too Much Education

Today in psych class we discussed the topic of what kept a marriage alive. Due to some of the key points that were given, I now know why my parents are still together.

1. Communication-My parents often communicate. They communicate loudly and in my mom's case, shrilly.

2. Trust-My parents display their trust for each other by writing down their schedules on a piece of paper for the entire week and sticking it on the fridge. Should either spouse diviate from that schedule in even the slightest, interrogation begins as soon as he/she walks in the door. I see this also as their special way of showing love to each other.

3. Intimacy-My parents are not very intimate people, a fact that I was very grateful for. However, I was mistaken. They only APPEAR to be distant in their affections.

• Proof: This morning, I left my house for school a little later than usual. I'm usually pretty quiet in the mornings, a detail that escaped my parents' attention in the 21 years that they've known me. In the middle of eating my cereal in the kitchen, I started hearing giggling coming from my parents' room. As the giggling grew louder and more frequent, I crammed bigger and bigger spoonfuls of Frosted Mini Wheats into my mouth in hopes that I could finish faster. Finally, as the giggling turned into full on roars of laughter and squeals, I just left my unfinished cereal where it was and rushed to grab my backpack so I could leave. During the frantic seach for my keys, I didn't notice that suddenly, there was silence in the house. Then, I heard my mom call out, "Jayne? Are you still here?" In my panicked state I squeaked, "Not anymore!" and ran towards the garage. Before the door could finished closing, I heard the giggling resume. Lovely.

And if that wasn't enough to brighten my day, I was informed by the Daily Universe (BYU Newspaper) today that the average marrying age for LDS women is 21.5. So in about two months, I'll be the LDS equivalent of a spinster. Don't worry, I already have my mumus prepared and my depression waiting.

Static Cling

Every morning I park far away from campus, farther than desired. God's University should have come with parking garages and shuttle buses. Instead it comes with uneven pavement and ramps, lots and lots of ramps. We are a handicapped friendly school! Which brings me to point one . . .

1) Trekking to humanities is more a ritualistic process. I park next to Jayne, we step out into the frigid air, make some snide remark about the person walking in front of us, and then frown at our failed attempt to try to be more kind. But, one particular morning the steps, which descend onto the holy ground, were covered in ice. I was feeling particularly raunchy that morning--my oatmeal was stale. By this point in our walk Jayne and I were talking about scholarships or jazzy wheelchairs or all of the above. I have decided it would be fortuitous for me to slip on the ice, break my spine, get a jazzy chair, and get a scholarship for being "lame". Additional positives to being immobile, Jayne would have a free ride from car to campus and I could completely take advantage of the ramps and gentle slopes around campus.

2) Friday morning I was a little late to work--common. I was speed walking down the spiral bridge across "Campus Drive" or "Bulldog" or whatever that road is called. *Note: SPEED WALKING not running because running is not acceptable. The girl walking up the ramp had a horrible case of static cling. Her skirt was somewhere between her upper thigh and her upper, upper thigh. Poor girl. The only redeeming part of her outfit was her Young Woman's medallion. I know static cling exists and the church is true!

So, if you ever doubt that BYU is THE BEST, don't!

First day of school

Due to the fact that I tried to tone down my mocking of other people during the holidays and be nice, I seem to be extra irritable this new year; therefore resulting in double the redicule. However, one of my new year's resolutions this year is being nicer to people so we'll see how that goes.

The first class that I attended this semester was Psych 111. Since it's general psychology, the class had an abundance of freshman. I had the misfortune of sitting by one that fell asleep. At first his head was kind of slumped forward, then he kind of jerked awake when the class gave a courtesy chuckle at something the professor said, (yeah kids, like the professor is going to remember who laughed at her lame joke and give you some bonus points) then he fell back asleep with his head slumped back and mouth open. The next thing I know, what felt like a baseball bat hit my head and I literally saw starts. The moron's head hit my head. He looked at me, gave a little sheepish chuckle, said sorry, and went back to what he was doing before he fell asleep. Which was drawing dragons, yes I'm serious, on his notebook page. Come on kid, you're in college. You should know how to sleep in class unoticed by now. Say goodbye to whatever high school you finally escaped from and step up.