All right. Here it is. I still have no idea who I'm talking to, but it's mainly myself. And since a friend once said that I could definitely be one of those people who talks to themselves via blog, I guess I'd better live up to my full potential. Of course, she also said that I should be the next Blue's Clues guy. We'll just have to wait and see. Anyway. Orange Julius Recipe.
10 Ice Cubes
1 Cup Water
1 Cup Milk
1/4 Cup Sugar
2 teaspoons Vanilla
6 Oz Orange Juice (or half of those frozen juice concentrates, switch up the flavors, yeah?)
PS I'm not entirely insane and I'm totally not gonna go all Anne Frank and start naming my blog that no one reads...I'm just not.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Zurie Means Adorable
I have been home for over a week now, and was starting to forget why I thought it'd be fine to move back for the following semester. Then I was put on bedtime duty.
I helped my two younger brothers, ages four and five, to brush their teeth, get into their new pajamas, get out of their new pajamas, turn said pajamas right-side out, and replace the pajamas back onto each child, respectively. Then we read my new Christmas book from my friend Jackie Johnson, "Have You Been Naughty or Nice?" followed by a reading to ME by them of "Jen the Hen." When I left they couldn't read. Super cute. To top it off, I said goodnight to them both, and as I tucked Ammon, the four year-old, in, he turned over and said, "Nate?" "Yes, Ammon?" "You'we zuwie. That means Adowable."
I told my mother who affirmed that it did indeed mean adorable in African. The baby elephant at the zoo is named Zurie. Now I can't remember why I'd despised living here. Except for the restriction of my free living and social life, but hey, I'm Zuwie.
I helped my two younger brothers, ages four and five, to brush their teeth, get into their new pajamas, get out of their new pajamas, turn said pajamas right-side out, and replace the pajamas back onto each child, respectively. Then we read my new Christmas book from my friend Jackie Johnson, "Have You Been Naughty or Nice?" followed by a reading to ME by them of "Jen the Hen." When I left they couldn't read. Super cute. To top it off, I said goodnight to them both, and as I tucked Ammon, the four year-old, in, he turned over and said, "Nate?" "Yes, Ammon?" "You'we zuwie. That means Adowable."
I told my mother who affirmed that it did indeed mean adorable in African. The baby elephant at the zoo is named Zurie. Now I can't remember why I'd despised living here. Except for the restriction of my free living and social life, but hey, I'm Zuwie.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
This Might Be Illegal, So Shut Yer Pie Holes, Eh?
So I found this recipe for the 9th time. Literally. It's like lost and found on drugs. Acceleratory ones. Anyway--oh wait. Duty calls.
So I was about to write about the re-discovery of my Orange Julius recipe, (which I'm still gonna do, by the way)when Dad walked in with boxes of food. We were to help assemble these boxes for families in need. It's just one of the many benefits of being a Bishop's son. Anyway, I'm all filled with fuzzies so I'm gonna go watch something to capitalize the moment. A Sandra Bullock film most probably.
So I was about to write about the re-discovery of my Orange Julius recipe, (which I'm still gonna do, by the way)when Dad walked in with boxes of food. We were to help assemble these boxes for families in need. It's just one of the many benefits of being a Bishop's son. Anyway, I'm all filled with fuzzies so I'm gonna go watch something to capitalize the moment. A Sandra Bullock film most probably.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Touched by an Angel...or Three...
Sister Burton and the TAs thereof, namely Sarah and Alex, have helped me out so very much, Touched by an Angel style. Sarah assisted me in getting a tutor, though I didn't use it, it was such a help to know the resource was there if I needed. And Sister Burton has such a glow about her :D
Unhappiness Weaves Some Not So Great Blankets...
When one is depressed, how does one know? Is it the gloomy, glassy stares off into empty spaces? Is it the welcome thoughts of suicide? And, whether you can label yourself as depressed or not, how do you deal with it? Here are a few suggestions for specific examples. See Figure 1, located at the very tippity top bottom of the page.
Nuthin' Like a Trip to the Hot Springs
At one in the morning, Randee, Anna, Will, and I decided to go to the Hot Springs in Spanish Fork Canyon. We knew this would peeve our friend, Chelsea, who so desperately wanted to go, but she wasn't there. So.
It's a forty minute drive and a forty minute hike. We inquired of Will as to the bringing of a flashlight, but he said he had it covered. For the record: a cell phone is NOT equivalent to a flashlight.
Will insisted in not telling Anna of the *nudacity of the place (See footnote*), but let's just say that as we attempted to traverse the rocky, moonlit path, I was glad to see a plethora of groups more blessed in years than I ever hope to be hike down the mountain...away from the hot springs. I will end with this advice. If you wear glasses, don't.
ps We really are sorry Chels, but it sounds like you had just as much fun, eh? Being kidnapped is exciting, right?
*nudacity: (n) noo-DA-ci-tee Being prone to frequent human visits, free from inhibitions and thus encouraging the needlessness of clothes.
It's a forty minute drive and a forty minute hike. We inquired of Will as to the bringing of a flashlight, but he said he had it covered. For the record: a cell phone is NOT equivalent to a flashlight.
Will insisted in not telling Anna of the *nudacity of the place (See footnote*), but let's just say that as we attempted to traverse the rocky, moonlit path, I was glad to see a plethora of groups more blessed in years than I ever hope to be hike down the mountain...away from the hot springs. I will end with this advice. If you wear glasses, don't.
ps We really are sorry Chels, but it sounds like you had just as much fun, eh? Being kidnapped is exciting, right?
*nudacity: (n) noo-DA-ci-tee Being prone to frequent human visits, free from inhibitions and thus encouraging the needlessness of clothes.
First Job
Employee: (n) A person who works for another person in return for financial or other compensation.
Also (v) The act of enslaving someone to do your bidding, no matter how ridiculous, with the knowledge that they will accomplish the task due to the fact that they are bound to you via your payment, no matter how low, of their services.
I just got my very very first job...EVER! Excited. If you've ever been to a BYU-sponsored banquet and seen the solemn-looking people clad in black (the ones who bring you your food) then you have seen my fellow workmates at work. Catering is so much fun! It's amazing. Their scheduling is horrendous, and you seldom know you're working 24 hours ahead of time, but it's worth it! You know, as far as first jobs go...
Also (v) The act of enslaving someone to do your bidding, no matter how ridiculous, with the knowledge that they will accomplish the task due to the fact that they are bound to you via your payment, no matter how low, of their services.
I just got my very very first job...EVER! Excited. If you've ever been to a BYU-sponsored banquet and seen the solemn-looking people clad in black (the ones who bring you your food) then you have seen my fellow workmates at work. Catering is so much fun! It's amazing. Their scheduling is horrendous, and you seldom know you're working 24 hours ahead of time, but it's worth it! You know, as far as first jobs go...
Ballroom :)
Ballroom was meant to be my stress-relieving class. That's why I took it in the first place. That's the role it served in high school, it's only reasonable that it should serve such a role in college, no? For the first half of the semester, this was not the case. I stressed over ballroom just as much as I stressed over psychology, which I voluntarily stressed over often. However, I began to get into the swing of things.
First off, let me just say that I'm an analyzer. I walk into the room and pinpoint everyone there, give them a little background story, and approach them accordingly. So when I walk into a ballroom class, I start watching to see who the best dancers are, and I've just learned that you don't pick the worst dancer because you don't deserve any better. You pick the best dancer and hope to learn from them. However, that seems kinda chauvanistic, so I made sure to pick a medium-high rate dancer. Good choice. I didn't feel uncomfortably bad compared to her, or, well...let's just say that some dancers are better than others. Anyway, we practiced a lot and I began to enjoy ballroom once more. (Insert applause)
First off, let me just say that I'm an analyzer. I walk into the room and pinpoint everyone there, give them a little background story, and approach them accordingly. So when I walk into a ballroom class, I start watching to see who the best dancers are, and I've just learned that you don't pick the worst dancer because you don't deserve any better. You pick the best dancer and hope to learn from them. However, that seems kinda chauvanistic, so I made sure to pick a medium-high rate dancer. Good choice. I didn't feel uncomfortably bad compared to her, or, well...let's just say that some dancers are better than others. Anyway, we practiced a lot and I began to enjoy ballroom once more. (Insert applause)
Ballroom :(
I guess I should be used to things just not going as well as they could. They rarely do. Like the time my roommate thought my time line for my student development final project was trash. Or the time I slipped and tore my jeans...and everyone watched. But with ballroom, I thought for sure the worst thing about it would be my dancing. False.
In Lehi, ballroom had existed for a total of one and a half years. If you smiled and puffed up your chest, you were on the team (for guys, anyway). We decided to go to competition, and it was just dancing with a judge; VERY fun oriented. At BYU it is a different story. I went to the auditions and found that some people were in Gold-level, which is an audition required class, technique class who were not on the team. A team. There are 5. Anyway, that was extremely disconcerting. I then discovered that BYU ballroom is all about the competitions. Saddening fact #3: I'm not what you call "good" dancer. On top of it all, my partner decided to let me wait until six o' clock (since eight in the morning, when waltz competition was) to let me know she wouldn't be coming back for tango. But, hey! The chips and dip were superb!
In Lehi, ballroom had existed for a total of one and a half years. If you smiled and puffed up your chest, you were on the team (for guys, anyway). We decided to go to competition, and it was just dancing with a judge; VERY fun oriented. At BYU it is a different story. I went to the auditions and found that some people were in Gold-level, which is an audition required class, technique class who were not on the team. A team. There are 5. Anyway, that was extremely disconcerting. I then discovered that BYU ballroom is all about the competitions. Saddening fact #3: I'm not what you call "good" dancer. On top of it all, my partner decided to let me wait until six o' clock (since eight in the morning, when waltz competition was) to let me know she wouldn't be coming back for tango. But, hey! The chips and dip were superb!
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
How Full Is Your Bucket? Oh, wait. Do you HAVE a Bucket?
This just in: willing the universe is for professionals only and should not be relied upon for day-to-day conveniences.
Today (in retrospect, of course) I discovered that the Universe-Willing technique is not only unreliable, but can backfire if used incorrectly. I guess I should start with the night before-hand. I willed myself to sleep. Success. Today. I first exercised my willpower to force my phone to be loud enough to wake me up. I obviously over-did it a little and woke up my roommate, Samyak, all the way from the living room. He proceeded to come out of our room, into the living room, turn off my cell phone's volume, and return to bed. Failure.
I then proceeded to will my roommate to get out of the shower. It must take a little longer for the psionic signals to penetrate the shower curtains, 'cause it waited til 7:54 to work. Six minutes before my first class. And then my other roommate decided to rush in; must've been urgent. Nope! Just showerin'. By this time I thought I should just give up. But no! We must stay positive!
I began to walk, showerless 'n' all, to campus. A thirty minute walk...unless you run. Yes, that toolbox with his head down, backpack up, joggin' to class like he's got somethin' to show? That was me. I half-heartedly attempted to will someone to stop and give me a ride, but I think I'll be retaining my powers to eco-friendly products. Namely printers.
Today (in retrospect, of course) I discovered that the Universe-Willing technique is not only unreliable, but can backfire if used incorrectly. I guess I should start with the night before-hand. I willed myself to sleep. Success. Today. I first exercised my willpower to force my phone to be loud enough to wake me up. I obviously over-did it a little and woke up my roommate, Samyak, all the way from the living room. He proceeded to come out of our room, into the living room, turn off my cell phone's volume, and return to bed. Failure.
I then proceeded to will my roommate to get out of the shower. It must take a little longer for the psionic signals to penetrate the shower curtains, 'cause it waited til 7:54 to work. Six minutes before my first class. And then my other roommate decided to rush in; must've been urgent. Nope! Just showerin'. By this time I thought I should just give up. But no! We must stay positive!
I began to walk, showerless 'n' all, to campus. A thirty minute walk...unless you run. Yes, that toolbox with his head down, backpack up, joggin' to class like he's got somethin' to show? That was me. I half-heartedly attempted to will someone to stop and give me a ride, but I think I'll be retaining my powers to eco-friendly products. Namely printers.
Freshman Retreat
So, once upon a time, I went to SOAR and therein received a scholarship to Brigham Young University (Provo edition). However, the scholarship was kind of like a pact with the mafia: they give you the money and lie in wait to see what you do with it and how effectively "it" is done. Luckily, they're all brown and KNOW how to party.
We went up to the lodge at Spring Haven in Springville Canyon. There's an incredibly interesting story about the "Mansion of Spring Haven," and said story goes as follows:
The Mansion of Spring Haven
Once upon a time, in a far away mansion, located in the foothills of the mountainous range of Rocky, and in the Canyon what lay just east of the Ville of Spring, there lived a man and a woman. Said man and woman had passed their years of youth, and "racked up the dough" in their elderly state. Needing a change in life's humdrums, the once-young couple migrated to the location what I said at the beginning...which means they weren't there before, but you get the point. Anythou, they decided to build a large and spacious mansion of a pleasing quality, not to be connotated with any such building in any scriptural reference at all. The couple moved in, but left shortly after to serve a wonderful, whole-hearted mission to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in a third-world country. Upon returning, they realized that they could not stand to live within such a marvelous home, not after the tragedies they had beheld whilst on their mission. So they donated said mansion to the Church, who in turn gave it to Brigham Young and the University thereof, to use as it pleased.
Das Ende
Regardless of whether the story is true or not, BYU owns the mansion, and I slept there. So.
It was so much fun to see all of my SOAR buddies and to meet new people from other sessions. That night, we ate Panda Express (ya, for free. Jealous?) and had a dance-off. There was a clever little name they gave it, making a reference to some popular MTV show where groups of dancers get up and strut their stuff and get voted off the island or something like that. Anywho, our group chose "I Got a Feelin'" by the Black Eyed Peas, whose name makes absolutely no sense to me, and we got second place for the equal use of our group members. But that was a given.
We went up to the lodge at Spring Haven in Springville Canyon. There's an incredibly interesting story about the "Mansion of Spring Haven," and said story goes as follows:
The Mansion of Spring Haven
Once upon a time, in a far away mansion, located in the foothills of the mountainous range of Rocky, and in the Canyon what lay just east of the Ville of Spring, there lived a man and a woman. Said man and woman had passed their years of youth, and "racked up the dough" in their elderly state. Needing a change in life's humdrums, the once-young couple migrated to the location what I said at the beginning...which means they weren't there before, but you get the point. Anythou, they decided to build a large and spacious mansion of a pleasing quality, not to be connotated with any such building in any scriptural reference at all. The couple moved in, but left shortly after to serve a wonderful, whole-hearted mission to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in a third-world country. Upon returning, they realized that they could not stand to live within such a marvelous home, not after the tragedies they had beheld whilst on their mission. So they donated said mansion to the Church, who in turn gave it to Brigham Young and the University thereof, to use as it pleased.
Das Ende
Regardless of whether the story is true or not, BYU owns the mansion, and I slept there. So.
It was so much fun to see all of my SOAR buddies and to meet new people from other sessions. That night, we ate Panda Express (ya, for free. Jealous?) and had a dance-off. There was a clever little name they gave it, making a reference to some popular MTV show where groups of dancers get up and strut their stuff and get voted off the island or something like that. Anywho, our group chose "I Got a Feelin'" by the Black Eyed Peas, whose name makes absolutely no sense to me, and we got second place for the equal use of our group members. But that was a given.
Lunch With Ya Ya
When I came to BYU, I was filled to the brim with excitement and anxiousness for what prospective adventures the future held. The glass was definitely half full. And, better yet, I wasn't even thirsty!
I played volleyball every day and met new people. I went to class and purposefully sat away from any acquaintances so I could meet new people. Then I went to the cannon and met new people. Sunday came and I, yes, met new people. I just couldn't get enough of my methamphetamine that was people.
Needless to say I made a lot of friends and met a whole bunch of people who at least pretended to like me for a good hour or so. I met a wonderful young lady from Beijing, China, named Ya Ya. She plays the cello. I play the cello. So we had lunch. We met while signing up for our audition times for the Symphonic and Philharmonic Orchestras. Two superior orchestras. One cello. One man. One audition. One chance. (music grows to a climax, insert pictures of fiery destruction and action-packed car chases)
I failed. (Cut music)Miserably. I really just went in for the experience, but it was still pretty bad. Julie Bevan was exceedingly kind about it, though, and kindly let me know that the results would be posted by 2:00 pm the following afternoon. But then we both looked at each other like, "Don't really bother checking. Practice for a year, come back, and we'll think about it." But, my Mom has always said, "Think positively and the universe will bend to your will." I guess I haven't really refined my universe willing powers yet, 'cause she got me an eco-friendly printer, and I got NOT in the orchestras. Maybe it works differently for stuff you have to practice for...
I played volleyball every day and met new people. I went to class and purposefully sat away from any acquaintances so I could meet new people. Then I went to the cannon and met new people. Sunday came and I, yes, met new people. I just couldn't get enough of my methamphetamine that was people.
Needless to say I made a lot of friends and met a whole bunch of people who at least pretended to like me for a good hour or so. I met a wonderful young lady from Beijing, China, named Ya Ya. She plays the cello. I play the cello. So we had lunch. We met while signing up for our audition times for the Symphonic and Philharmonic Orchestras. Two superior orchestras. One cello. One man. One audition. One chance. (music grows to a climax, insert pictures of fiery destruction and action-packed car chases)
I failed. (Cut music)Miserably. I really just went in for the experience, but it was still pretty bad. Julie Bevan was exceedingly kind about it, though, and kindly let me know that the results would be posted by 2:00 pm the following afternoon. But then we both looked at each other like, "Don't really bother checking. Practice for a year, come back, and we'll think about it." But, my Mom has always said, "Think positively and the universe will bend to your will." I guess I haven't really refined my universe willing powers yet, 'cause she got me an eco-friendly printer, and I got NOT in the orchestras. Maybe it works differently for stuff you have to practice for...
Welcome to College
Beginning college is definitely one of the most unique experiences a guy can have in life, and it really only happens once. Throughout our lives we've crawled our way to the top of the social food chain, just to drop back to the bottom. It happened with elementary school, then middle school, high school, and finally it's happened again. It's like when you're climbing a flight of stairs at night and you think there's one more and step accordingly, just to find you've miscalculated your steps, which gets you wondering how poorly you must've done on your last math exam and by that time your face has become well acquainted with the carpet leaving a blaring red abrasion as a souvenir. I'll have to admit, it took quite a while for me to get my very own "souvenir," but that unrelenting and seemingly heartless carpet really just has your best interest in mind. In retrospect, I'm glad that top stair decided to take a day off...again.
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