Saturday, June 26, 2004

Name of the day: Heavin. It's a good thing that these parents aren't those who add unnecessary apostrophes to names because this baby could be Heavin' in "She out back heavin' hay into the pick-up." No, these are those who prefer Cera to Sarah and Mykal to Michael. It's not like there are that many people named Heaven anyway.

Pros and cons list for having a computer as my DVD player:

1. It's really just a bonus, anyway, as I don't purchase a computer for it's DVD player as much as I do for its...computing.

2. I don't have to be in the family room to watch my movies...the room where anyone can come and go and talk and bug anytime they please because it is the family room.

3. My mom stays out of my room because she generally doesn't want to watch anything I watch, and she can't be on the computer while I'm watching it.

4. The speaker system (complete with woofer) that came with the computer. It's awesome!

1. There's no remote control, so if I fall asleep and want to simply switch the machine to off, I can't. I have to get up and shut down the computer, waking myself up again so now I have to fall asleep to ESPN or Discovery Health.

2. Sometimes I forget to exit my Instant Messenger programs, so the various notifications pop up and sound off in the middle of my movie.

3. I oftentimes forget about the screensaver and energy-saver things, and the screen will go black or the computer into hibernation during the film.

Thursday, June 24, 2004

I haven't spent the last two days moping about, hating life. I got over all of the parental strife after I let off some steam here. I guess that is one good thing about having a blog. I also chatted with my friend, Nathan, and dropped a few choice words on him about the situation. For that, I thank him for listening. I was an angry, angry bitch the other night.

Anyway, today I was sitting in class and looking at my hands. A long time ago, I noticed that I had no hair on my fingers at all except for two tiny hairs on the middle section of the ring finger on my right hand. I thought that was kind of weird, but I let it go. Today, when I was looking at them again, I noticed that they were rather mutant hairs! Ugh! So I think I'm going to pluck them later on if I remember; I should at least trim them.

Thinking of this reminded me of a family I met while living in Yuma, Arizona. The husband had a mutant hair of his own. It was on his forearm, and it was sensitive to the seasons, which is weird because there are no seasons in Yuma. It's either hot or hotter. But in the "Winter", this guy has one crazy hair on his arm. (He has many hairs on his arm, but one in particular that goes whacko in the "Winter".) In the middle of his forearm, there was one hair that was 3 INCHES LONG! You know what? Cut that. 'Cause that's just gross! You know? No one wants to be freaked out by that hair, especially while we're eating dinner with you. It's weird when I went to their house to eat and was appeased when I saw the hair on his arm just because then I knew it wouldn't possibly have ended up in my food.

This afternoon, this little girl (9 years old) came into the office to have some work done. She has the longest fingernails I've ever seen on a girl of her age. And then I noticed that she had LONG, BLACK hairs growing on her legs, and I knew that she would grow up to be a moustache lady.

Monday, June 21, 2004

This entry has the word "hate" in it a lot.

I really hate living with my parents now. And when I say hate, I mean it. I HATE it. I hate it the way Osama hates Americans. I hate it the way the the Braves hate the Yankees. I hate that my mom won't get out of my room. I hate how when my door is shut, meaning that I don't want to talk to anyone and I really don't care what you have to say right now, dad, people just walk right in and start talking to me. I mean, a door is there for shut people out, to ignore what is going on on the opposite side, to feel somewhat alone, to have some privacy, etc. I don't understand why that is such a difficult thing for them to understand. I just don't. And I hate that. I hate how I feel so violent right now, and there is nothing I can do about it because I love my parents; I just don't like them being around me all the time. I hate that I just want to shout obscenities, but that isn't going to make me feel any better. I hate it! I hate the way I feel, too! I just want to go home and throw all of my mom's stuff out of my room and break it when it hits whatever I throw it at.

I realise that the obvious solution is to move out like an adult should, and I am strongly considering that right now. But I really want to finish paying off my bills before I move out. I don't want to have to worry about these things when I will have to worry about paying rent and utilities, buying groceries, paying for gas, paying my car insurance, paying for fun and travel, etc. I want to be able to afford a nice place; I don't want to have something that is cheaper because I have these bills. I don't want to go into this with debt. I'm trying to be patient, but it's getting harder and harder everyday. Maybe it's something I will just have to suck up and deal with. It's such a catch-22, though. I can deal with them for a little longer, be debt-free, and have a nice place and start saving money while having fun, or I can move out with my debt, live in a dump, and eat top ramen while staying home all of the time and walking everywhere I go because I won't be able to afford gas unless I put it on the card. I hate all of this crap!

It's storming like crazy outside right now. That pretty much sums up the way I'm feeling. I'm at school in the library wishing I could see out of the window, but It's too bright inside, and the windows are like mirrors now. So all I see is me...loathing...hating...seething...steaming. I want to bust that window.

Sunday, June 20, 2004

Name of the day: It's a whole family. Tamaisa Marie Terry and LaCourtney Trumaine Graves welcome a girl, Tra'Mya Evette. There is no explanation that will ever help me to understand these "names".

I always have such high hopes for the weekend. Like, I'm always thinking, "I can finally read this book and clean my room." Then the weekend comes. I sleep in on Saturday until 11:30. I get suckered into reading my email and my usual blogs, and while I'm doing that my friends log on. So I have to chat with them for a while and maybe form a rebellion against evil people who want money in order to read their blogs, like they're the monarch of clever thought and deserve to be paid to be let into their random musings. Then we bombard them with our own biting words until they relent. We pat ourselves on the back, and I go to eat something.

After returning from eating something, I see that Netflix has sent me the next three discs of Absolutely Fabulous, a British show that is just as the title implies. So I toss a disc into the DVD player and sit back to laugh it up for a while. Sometimes I feel like Edina is talking directly at me when she says things like, "'Cause frankly, darling, I don't mind subsidizing some fat ol' couch potato who just wants to sit around reading magazines and watching telly all day. Frankly, in the business I'm in, we need that kind of person. But when somebody deliberately over-educates themselves out of the possibility of useful employment, I take issue." Well, I guess I would feel like that if I were getting a masters in something more scholarly making it impossible for me to get a good job in anything besides university professor like I used to want to do. Going to medical school is a little more practicle as long as I actually become a doctor.

I went out to eat with some friends I rarely see anymore for I don't know which reason. They spent much of the dinner trying to convince me that I should go to my 10-year high school reunion in October. I don't want to go! Why doesn't that count for anything? I haven't given a shit about 96% of my class since I graduated, and I'm not going to start giving a shit now. So what's the point? I don't care what those people are doing now or what they look like or how many kids they have. I don't. I only care about what MY friends and I are doing with our lives, and I see those people all the time. I know what WE are doing. I don't want to pay 50 bucks to force niceties at those other people. They're going to be drunk anyway, and we all know how I feel about socialites and their public displays of drunkeness. Even that wouldn't be entertaining to me because I'd just be sitting there thinking, "There goes So-and-so still drunk as ever, I see," and I will have realised that not much has changed since high school.

So now it's Sunday evening. I went to church, watched more AbFab, and took a nap. No reading was done. No room was cleaned. I just took my little retreat from the hustle and bustle of school, work, and extracurricular items of business. Tomorrow will start a new week, and I will have wished I had read that book or cleaned my messy room. Oh well...there's always next weekend.

Thursday, June 17, 2004

There is a very good reason why I came to school to study tonight. I wanted to get away from distraction, but you know what? The damn internet is everywhere! I hate it. I can't get away from it. I need to study! Damn Al Gore and his internet!

In other news, I was just looking at, and I'm now in need of someone to go with me to New Orleans to see Concrete Blonde on July 10th. Anyone? (It's white people music, Nomade. You probably won't want to go. But if you want to come down here and go to New Orleans with me, I'll pay for everything once you get down here and then maybe the pain of listening to white people music for a little bit won't be so painful? I mean, you have to were really starting to like those songs by The White Stripes and Placebo while we were in Senegal.) Tickets are only $22.

Wednesday, June 16, 2004

Name of the day: Zenobia. It sounds like a disease, a psychological disorder, a former queen of Palmyra, and/or a Greek dish. Mmm...Greek food...Zannah? Dinner?

I went to lunch today at Captain D's, a great little seafood place. I got chicken strips. There is a sign in the restaurant that says, "In an effort to promote good health, this is a non-smoking establishment." It should have continued, "But, patrons, please eat all of the deep-fried, oil-saturated food you can stuff into your mouth. Oh, and did we mention that we are now serving fried cheesecake?" I love seeing stuff like that.

There was another thing at Captain D's I wanted to mention. Whenever a customer walked in the door, all of the workers said, "Hello." Not in unison, that would have been slightly less annoying and funnier, but "Hello" by 4 different people at 4 different times. EVERY TIME! It sounded so condescending to me. They didn't waiver from "Hello" by saying "Hi" or "Greetings" or "What's up, girl?" or "Heyyyyyy" or "Good afternoon" or anything like that. I hate establishment imposed greetings. What if I don't want to say "Hello" back? I feel forced into undesired pleasantries, and I never enjoy being forced to do anything. I'm not going to say anything next time. I'll just glare.

I've had a song stuck in my head since late last night. I really hate when I have to spend an entire day doing things that do not involve listening to the song that is playing in my head. I guess the fact that the song is playing in my head should be good enough, but it never is. It's so distracting having to sit through four hours of class without hearing it and then going straight to work. I made up a fake errand in the middle of the afternoon so I could pass by my house to listen to the song...thrice. And I'm frustrated that I can't find the cd that I bought because then I'd be able to take it everywhere with me and listen to it on breaks. I hate this feeling.

Well, I've had this little life's-quest cover-up thing for long enough. I've finally told all of the people who should know what I'm really planning on doing with my life. I'm not going after a masters in communications. I'm sick of people asking me what biology, trigonometry, chemistry and physics have to do with communications and not having a logical explanation for it. Because you know what? There isn't one. I'm taking pre-requisite courses for medical school, turbo people! That's no joke. I joke a lot, but this time I'm serious. So there you have it.

Also, I ate kimchi today...not terrible. In fact, I can see how it might be tasty.

Sunday, June 13, 2004

Post # 100!

Name of the day: Betty Joe. I wouldn't be having a problem with this name if it were my grandmother's name. Wait...I would, but if it were some other OLD LADY's name (an old lady who also lives on a farm and milks cows every morning and takes afternoon naps in a pile of hay), it would be okay. But this particular Betty Joe is 15 or 16 years old. It's sort of a good thing that she doesn't go by Betty Joe, but in today's world, her nick is worse than Betty Joe. It's B.J. Aye! Her last name is a fun one, too. Nope. B.J.? Nope. Hahahahaha...everytime I see her, I chuckle. Everytime, folks! How old am I?

I came home from church today to a house full of soon-to-be broken-hippers, former broken-hippers, and can't remember if they're broken-hippers. It's Johnston family reunion time chez moi, and I just have to say that I hate family reunions. I can't stand them! On my dad's side of the family, there are 7 people who are my age, and they never come. Most of the people in my mom's immediate family, save two aunts (and their families) and my g-parents (she has about 8 more siblings and a couple of step-siblings), are on the Jerry Springer and the COPS wait-list, so they make reunions exciting in ways they shouldn't be exciting. I'm glad they're all in Utah. I run from family reunions the way most people would run from a charging bull. In fact, right now all of the super-seniors and my parents are outside, and I'm locked in my dark room.

There was a fun person speaking in church today. By fun, I mean that he talked FUNny. He pronounces some words in ways I've never heard them pronounced before. I haven't even heard non-native speakers of English pronounce them this way. There was "childreen", "childreeng"(when placed before a word starting with a vowel sound, so "Childreeng are obnoxious."), "sockrifice", and then the popular "ideer" (idea). He also had so many grammar issues going on that I just didn't write them down. I'm not sure if my mom enjoys sitting next to me when such people get up and speak to the congregation or not. She's laughing, so I guess that's good.

Saturday, June 12, 2004

Name of the day: Joey Joseph. I don't understand why parents name their kids like this. Do they do it on the off chance that he/she will have an incurable stutter? It's redundant and, worse, stupid. William Williams. Harry Harrison. Holly Holliday. It's just wrong.

So this morning I was dreading the wedding I had would have to attend because it was going to be a Catholic wedding complete with mass, and those can go on FOR. E. VER. I didn't have time for all of that today, but since the groom was my unofficially adopted brother, I broke down and went...without my GameBoy. I thought that would be a bit tacky.

It turns out that the wedding didn't last the three hours I thought it would; it was half that. And the priest was on quite a roll with spouting off jokes and stories and such. He got to be a little too much when he started comparing Peter to Jennifer's "sweet, smooth 3 Musketeers bar" and Jennifer to Peter's "delicious, sugary KitKat". It got more ridiculous and rather inappropriate when talking to us, the crowd, and telling us that it was our duty to make sure Jennifer gets home in the early evening to "UNWRAP THAT 3 MUSKETEERS BAR"! (He said the same thing about Peter getting home to "nibble on his KitKat".)

I wish I were making this up, but I'm incapable of doing so. It's just too over-the-top for me. Man, priests need some badly!

The priest did say something else that I thought was great and ungross. He said, "Peter, there will be 5 times in the rest of your life when Jennifer will make you mad, and you're going to roll your eyes. But don't roll them at Jennifer. Roll them to God. He knows what that means. That's a prayer. And when you roll your eyes and say, "Lord help me", He's not going to change Jennifer; He's going to change you." I loved the rolling-eyes thing. "God knows what that means."

I was just beaming the whole time because little Peter was standing up there at the altar a grown man, taking on great responsibilities, and he is so good. I'm just proud of him.

So it was good for me to take the time to go to the wedding. I feel happy and I got some blog-fodder. I also got to see Peter's sister, Anne, who was one of my good friends while growing up. After we graduated high school, we went our separate ways, and I hadn't heard from her since. She just got married a couple of months ago, and she looked radiant.

Most of the time, I think life is just too hectic, and I want to escape into myself. Then there are times like today when it seems like all is right in the world. I'm glad when I get to catch those moments.

Also, today was the first and only time I hope to ever hear the words "bra" and "panties" escape the lips of a priest during a wedding.

Friday, June 11, 2004

Name of the day: Jerusha. Oh dear!

I'm having a hard time taking my biology professor seriously. I mean, he is a PhD, so I'm sure he knows his field very well; at least, I hope he does. But he's just not good at teaching. He sucks at it actually. His favorite word is "stuff", as in "You see this black stuff in the gooey stuff? It's supposed move across the membrane into this stuff." I am serious when I say he talks like that. I get so frustrated because here we are trying to learn this "stuff", and we are supposed to be able to explain it for a test. However, doing that is difficult when he calls ATP, mitochondria, the phospholipid bilayer, vacuoles, etc. all "stuff". "Hey, teacher! You know those words in our book that are highlighted because they are important words for us to know? You should probably give those a peek sometime."

And sometimes he is teaching a principle, and I have no clue about what he is talking about. My lab partner and I just look at each other with confused looks and say, "Book!" Some things just aren't going to be understood without our book. He just gets up there and talks, and I think he gets kinda flustered because he's always forgetting to tell us something. So he has to backtrack. Anyway, I hope I don't ever have to take him for anything else ever again.

There are some girls in my class who may die by my hand by the end of our short 4 weeks together. Maybe I just expect too much, but I think that they should have some sense of classroom etiquette. They talk THE ENTIRE 90 MINUTES of class. It drives me crazy. I know it bugs the professor because he has this look on his face when he sees them, and he always asks them if they have a question. I wish he would grow a set and tell them to shut up or leave. He CAN do that. This isn't high school. Today, with 15 minutes left of class, one of those girls started tapping on her desk with her pencil. Constant tapping. I heard her friend say, "Girl, what are you doin'?" She said, "I'm ready to go." "Well, damn! Get the hell out then! Nobody's stopping you. Get up!" I wanted to give her such a smack! They just have a blatant disregard for common courtesy. I hope they fail.

I aced my test yesterday. I wonder how since the man can't teach. I guess his tests are as simple as he is.

Tuesday, June 08, 2004

Name of the day: Sumna Kuruvilla. I've taken a detour from the norm with my "name of the day" today because this is an Indian name (and by Indian, I don't mean American Indian). I saw the name today, and I thought it was beautiful.

Okay, so, I have finally concluded that LDS missionaries are crazy. Normal people do not go to places like Korea and come back here proclaiming Red Ginseng Drink "delicious". Because IT'S NOT. I don't care if this drink is what the Koreans serve to royalty to honor them. It's nasty and it tastes like what I think sweet muddy water would taste like. If you can imagine that, then you know what Red Ginseng Drink is. It is awful. If ginseng should be ingested, it should be ingested in its natural pill form. And I don't understand anyone not Korean liking kimchi either. That stuff is wrong in at least 22 different ways.

But it's not just missionaries who go to Korea. Let's take my mission...San Diego, California, a.k.a. Little Mexico. Normal people just do not go to Mexico and come back to Earth thinking, "Mmm...cow stomach/tongue/intestine/other gross body part of some animal is delicious." However, missionaries do it all the they've got some point to prove or some merit badge to gain...something. I was sane. I never came home thinking those things were good. Horchata is still gritty, cinnamon-sprinkled, paint water. Chile-flavored tamarindo IS. NOT. CANDY., and neither are those packets of lime-flavored salt. There is NOTHING CANDY about either one of those things...and they're yucky. It's just craziness!

Monday, June 07, 2004

I drew blood for the first time in at least 12 years while shaving my legs this morning. I forgot that these little knicks don't stop bleeding so easily. I was thinking that I had hit an artery or something. I wasn't using my usual razor, see. I took a shower in a different bathroom this morning, and the only thing in the bathroom closet to shave with was a bag of stiff bic razors. Those don't bend and turn to the curves in my ankles and knees like my more expensive shaver. Anyone here have O+ blood? I may need some.

Friday, June 04, 2004

Name of the day: MaKaree Dre'Arthur.

Hi, all! Mlle Cranky McPist chiming in one more time. I just want to say that I HATE people who don't know how to use a turning lane. I just wish they would stop holding me up and pull their happy selves over into the turning lane. It's not that hard. It's not hidden. It's not some obscure phenomenon. Get in the lane if you are going to turn, and I don't mean only put the nose of your car in it. At least 30 feet before your turn, PULL YOUR ASS OVER! AND start breaking WHEN YOU GET INTO THE LANE! ****!

Good grief I'm bored! My dad finishes work at noon on Fridays, but someone has to stay until five to answer phones. Today, that someone is me. The phone has rung 3 times, and it's 4:30. Those 3 people were my dad, Prudence McQueen, and someone looking for Ursula.

What sucks is that my parents went to see The Prisoner of Azkaban, and I wasn't able to go. I want to see that movie so badly. I love the kid who plays Ron Weasley. He's so cute! I love his red hair. I better have at least one red-headed kid. But my mom tells me that I have to marry a red-head. Apparently dying my hair red will not affect my kids' genes. What a waste of 70 bucks every 2 months! Anyway, I hear that the new Harry Potter movie is the best of the three. I'm so excited to see it.

I hate the way my biology teacher says "water". He says "warter". And if he said it once today, he said it 5000 times! It was grating on my last nerve. He's not a very exciting teacher either. He's rather boring, so I'm very glad that the term is only 4-1/2 weeks long.

My lab partner, Chad, seriously needs to think about kicking his smoking habit. He was fidgeting all during lab yesterday, and halfway through the class, he was ready to go because he needed a cigarette. I will never understand why people smoke when it makes them feel the way he was feeling. I think it's a ridiculous habit to get in to.

Anyway, I think I'm just going to leave the office now. It's stupid having to stay here when nothing is happening.

Thursday, June 03, 2004

Name of the day: Beunca AmyMasha Vernae.

Wednesday, June 02, 2004

Okay, one more post. We are having some major crappy weather here in Texas and Louisiana right now. I'm watching the Weather Channel, and the weatherman was just talking about the storm system that is coming through. He said, "It is just going gang busters through Texas and now through Louisiana!" It made me laugh.

So girls camp is this week, and I ran up today to spend the late morning and afternoon with the little darlings. I was expecting a camp know...cabins (I knew they'd be in cabins) with screened-in windows, wood plank floors, humid beds, smells like forest, bugs...the area around the cabins would be dirt and pine trees, some fire rings, maybe some lanterns, lawn chairs...the girls would be dirty, hair in a mess, mud smeared across a cheek, a new rip in the jeans, smelling like smoke. But NO! OH! Not by a LONNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNG SHOT! They are staying in the lap of freakin' wilderness luxury. The only thing they are missing is a masseuse and a mud bath! Huge, air-conditioned "cabins", green grass and shrubbery surrounding the "cabins", concrete sidewalks from "cabin" to "cabin", a kitchen complete with cooks, a BEACH!, bathrooms IN their rooms, bathtubs, WASHERS AND DRYERS, a living area with big couches and chairs, a stereo system, and the list goes on and on! Camping MY ASS! Bunch of spoiled little girls!

On my way to girls "camp" this morning, I saw the most random, out-of-place thing, and I wish I had had my camera. I was driving through part of rural Louisiana past a farm. There were a few cows, a couple of horses, and a zebra! I did a was a zebra...just out there grazin'. I wanted to stop and look at it, but there was no where to pull over and there was traffic behind me. On my way back home, it ws too dark to see if it was still there.

I had quite the culture shock today. It was my first day of college courses that aren't at BYU. Instead, I'm now at a state university that doesn't have the same funding for building maintenance as my wealthier, private alma mater. The buildings are dirty inside. They need new paint and a serious upgrade from the 70s-80s decor, and my class is in one of the newest buildings! And I can't forget to tell you about the smell. It smelled like grandma's house...grandma's house during the years after she's let it all go and allowed the cats to take over.

The other shock was when I looked around at my fellow students and thought, "There are more black people in this one class than there are in the whole state of Utah!" At BYU, I think I had only 2 black people in all of my classes combined, my soul sistah and the Spaniard.

There is one last thing that caught me off-guard in class: the smell of cigarettes. It's weird how I encounter some things in my everyday life, but when it comes to school, my brain is conditioned to certain sights and sensations. I was taken aback and had to remind myself, "Carrie, you aren't at BYU anymore." It's not a sad realisation. I'm happy to experience new things.

Oh...and science professors sure can be humorless ol' goats! I'm used to laughing in my classes, but today is only the first day. I should give a guy a chance. Somehow, though, I don't think he laughs a whole lot. I miss the never-ending dry jokes, the quick wit, and the cruel comebacks of my language professors. We need more language people to become scientists and teach science. Hey... Then maybe things would be funnier.

Tuesday, June 01, 2004

I had a great afternoon. I went to a meeting with the regional manager for Aspect Foundation, a company that recruits international exchange students and places them with families here in the U.S. I wasn't sure if I would be working alone or with other people in this area, and I was fearful of who those other people would be. I was really excited and impressed with the guy who will be sharing this area with me. He has his own marketing company and he's very outgoing. He also knows a lot of the international students at the university. He will be introducing me to them Thursday night. Yay for more friends in this town!

So we are getting ads and articles together to publish about this company to drum up business. He has great ideas for advertisements, and I know A LOT of important people who would help us place these ads and publish the articles. I think we are going to make a great team, and for the record, he has a daughter and a girlfriend.

I'm realizing that I'm about to be a very busy person what with taking classes, working full-time with that dentist, youth-grouping, getting families to take exchange students, quilting, and doing who knows what else. I think I'm about to be busier than I've EVER been. WOW!

I have a favorite word of the week: quietude - n. repose, tranquility, placidity.
Despite the roaring of the thunder, I found myself in a perfect state of quietude sitting alone in the dark room, watching the storm, getting lost in my thoughts.