Blueberry Toes Too

I've started showering at night to calm down my mind so I can fall sleep, which usually means I have a blow dryer going at around 11:30 PM every other night. One time last week, I finished blow drying my hair and realized that my feet were freezing (I have eternally cold feet-- plus I live in a deep dark basement), so I turned on the blow dryer again and blow dried my feet until they were warm. I've done this twice since then: dry hair, warm feet, and hop as fast as I can into bed and try to fall asleep before my feet get cold and my mind starts running again. Who would ever think of a hair dryer as a new sleep relaxation technique? What a great invention... And while we are on the topic, I think it would be fantastic if everyone on campus joined together with their blow dryers and extension cords to melt that huge pile of dirty snow in the center of Brigham Square that has been there since November.

I got it / from my mama

15-minute eye appointment: $75

Kicking frames from Insight Eyewear: $140

Seeing my niece's toothy smile from across the room: Priceless.

Once upon a time, Brandy was Cinderella.

Today was up to snuff:

First of all, my tax refund doubled my bank account. This is the only time of the year in which I am grateful to be a poor student who doesn't own anything.

Secondly, I successfully put in and took out my first pair of contacts. For anyone who has worn contacts before, you KNOW how long it takes the first time: 40 minutes to get in, 15 minutes to get out. But I did it! When I was little, I used to call my dad's contacts "toncats," so I think that is what I am going to call mine from now on.

Thirdly, I went to a Cinderella ball in a singles ward. The girls "lose" a shoe the week before to the Elders Quorum and find their date at the dinner/ dance (whoever picked up their shoe). The evening was filled with canned chicken, a creepy Cinderella mannequin, and a guy balancing a ladder on his chin. But I think the best part was seeing girls in prom dresses from 2004 pop and locking it to hip hop songs after dinner. Oh to be young, and to look like you're still in high school.

Thank you, government, for my money back. Thank you, inventor of toncats. And thank you, boy, for letting me wear both my shoes while I dance.

I don't want to go to bed!

Instead, I feel like...

Making more heart-shaped shortbread sugar cookies with pink cream cheese frosting and eating twelve of them and dancing my little kid dance to Beyonce's Halo song and imagining that I am back with my best friend when we were 13 and running around my house in the summer yelling "It's hotter than alaska in here!" and painting a big messy mural on my wall or several walls with green and purple and sunny-side-up yellow paint and marking them with my celebrity signature that I will use when I am not famous someday and jumping wildly into a warm pool that has night lights and water that is clean without using chlorine so it doesn't sting my eyes--I've seen it done before--and going to a big open field in Montana that I have never been to so that I can scream out all my secrets to any nearby coyotes who are also howling at the emptiness of the sky.

Hey you, let's do it. Come over here and let's get going on this list.

The Errors of "Hard Truth"

I didn't want to say anything, but since I couldn't stop thinking about it, I thought I would post here. Last night I watched U.S. figure skater Johnny Weir compete in the Olympic short program. Afterward, I went online to see one of my friends had written as his facebook status: "Why do we have a Russian, flaming homsexual representing the USA for ice skating?"

I find this statement problematic and I want to clear a few things up.

First of all, learn how to spell "homosexual." But more importantly, how is it appropriate to use derogatory language about an assumed sexual orientation, such as "flaming?" My friend is LDS--he knows what it is like to be discriminated for his religious beliefs (being called a cult or polygamist among many names); how is it that he expects respect for his (and my) religion while name-calling someone else in regards to sexual orientation? Weir has actually never stated what his sexuality is, saying in an interview, "There are some things I keep sacred."

Secondly: the issue of Weir's perceived Russian-ness. The fact that my friend has a problem with any nationality (despite clear possession of citizenship) representing the U.S. in the Olympics seems to suggest a false ideal of American-ness that Weir does not embody, as if there is a right or wrong way to be American. Besides, Weir is not even Russian; he was born and grew up in Pennsylvania. He only speaks Russian to his Ukrainian coach, Galina Zmievskaya.

Thirdly: Discriminatory statements should not be broadcasted in a public domain such as facebook. I am not surprised that four comments among ten following this friend's status called him out for being offensive. But even more surprising was his response to them: "tis a hard truth to be spoken, sorry you took offense." I find it difficult to defend a derogatory statement as "truth."

I hope that this friend will think twice about publicly touting his supposedly "hard truth."

"I love my love because I know: my love loves me"

In honor of Valentine's day rapidly approaching, I am posting a (non)love sonnet I wrote this past week. I haven't written very many sonnets before, but here it is. I tried the whole 14 lines, 10 syllables per line format.

Sand Sonnet: Love's Wisdom

Numberless grains from rocks of the ages,
Now assembled with earnest precision;

Carved are the pillars and dugged the moat,

Yet faulty are foundations.

For truth is construction thrice abused here,

As youth is weathered by time and by year:

A leveled plane and a plan dechambered,

And earth stretching on between seas and suns.

A tide approaches and all is remembered--

Hands plunged down, with shame, to hide.

Quickly thrust the beating life force inside.

And though sand moves in silently (the sound),

The earth lacks depth enough to bury me,

And--for my failed heart!--grains enough to drown.

Edible Babies

Yeah, you heard me. These babies are made of marzipan and you wanna know what the great thing is? You can eat them!


I would love to meet the person who thought of this. I am trying to follow this person's logic:

"Babies are just so darn cute, therefore, let's eat them!"
Or maybe it was...
"I need something to put atop this cake... how about a naked baby?!"

Baby shower desserts just got a little creepier.

The Wall Street Journal never leads ME astray

What would you do if you had $104.3 million dollars to spare?

Would you buy this sculpture?


Somebody did. This is Alberto Giacometti's 1960 "Walking Man I," sold to an anonymous buyer at an auction in London last night. The sale of this sculpture broke the record for most spent on a piece of artwork at an auction (second to Monet's "Boy With a Pipe"), and most likely to produce buyer's remorse whenever a picture of starving African children comes on TV. Enjoy that expensive skeleton in your house, anonymous.

Say my name, say my name

Today I was mistakenly called Heather, Rachel, and Emily. This is fnny to me becase these are my sisters' names, bt the people who got my name wrong wold not have known that.
Bt that's all okay, becase I was also called Be-KAH today by my little niece who has never said my name before.
Also, one of the keys on my keyboard is stck.