The Great Escape

Tonight's Mood: Happy Camper

So I sat in on the first Research class today. Basically, the class is one huge senior project, the topics of which had been chosen in a previous class by all the Comm seniors this year. I was told not to worry, all I had to do was find a topic of interest in the category of Communication in one of the periodicals in the Cayot room of the library. Riiiiiight. That's what I was thinking as I sat there, bright smile plastered on my face as I went over my options for escape. Hmmm, what kind of interpersonal communication study do I want to devote the next entire four months to for the purpose of fulfilling a second capstone course? Oh, there are soooo many options.

Oh, no. I knew then and there I would have to find a way out. Fortunatley, I remembered Sarnowki's offer to do directed research with me and suddenly the entire world opened up before me. See ya, Research class. I'm taking Editing next semester, what now?

One trip to Admin, ten minute standing outside Sarnowski's door, twenty minutes laying out my plan for Dr. White, and a nice little visit with Dr. Sarnowski (in which we discussed my opinions of my own senior project), I left school enrolled in World Religions and Intro to Psych, and Research in Communications was just a thing of the past.

Life is, once again, good.

And now we are watching Anne of Green Gables, the part where Gilbert is about to become sick and Anne realizes, when he almost dies, that she loves him and they get to live happily ever after. Ahhhh, I love that movie.

Take it from me...

Tonight's mood: Frustrated

Take it from me- when you get to college, figure out quickly what you want to do and then set out your master plan on how you're going to accomplish it.

Now me, I always knew what I wanted to do, ever since I was eleven years old and tried my hand at writing my first book. It didn't get very far, but staying up late every night on that old typewriter made me fall in love with the process of telling a story. So I'm going to be a writer. Enough said.

However, when you go to a small school, such as mine, getting classes that actually help you in certain life goals sometimes is hard to accomplish. For instance, I just in the last year discovered that for the goals I have, a major in English is not very helpful. Neither is a major in Communications. But... when I combine various writing and grammar classes from English with certain research and theory classes from Communications... woo-hoo! I've practically made up my own Journalism degree.

This is quite excellent, and definitely a winning idea for any SDCCer who can't get enough out of just one major, except for one thing: I discovered this at the end of my junior year, after six semesters of setting myself up for a degree in English.

As my roommate Jenna would say, "Oh, blast."

So here I am, my second year as a senior, with just one more upper division class to fit into my schedule before spring. I thought I had it all planned until the horrendous discovery this afternoon that my Research in Communications class that I was so looking forward to is... (dramatic chords here) a CAPSTONE class! Oh, horrors! Basically this means it's a senior project class, complete with ridiculously long senior paper, maddeningly stressful senior presentation, and many moments of serious contemplation of whether one really needs a degree to get by in life or not. In other words, it's not fun.

I sit here tonight, awaiting former Communications classmates to send their opinions, via myspace messaging, as to whether I should grin and bear it in Research for the educational experience I would get aside from the project part of it, or resort, for simplicity's sake, to a class called Rhetorical Theory (which is more than likely every bit as boring as it sounds). Rhetorical isn't offered until spring, so if I opt for it, I have to figure out what elective class I would have taken next semester, and fit it in now... there's just so much to decide!!!! I can't take it anymore!!!

Take it from me, the frenzied two-year Senior-- figure it all out freshman year! Save yourself and your sanity and give yourself a nice relaxing, stress-free senior year!

Peace, out.

In a Galaxy Far, Far, Away...

Well, on Friday I had written out and saved my thoughts on the whole Pluto-isn't-a-planet-anymore controversy, to be re-worded and published later that day (I'm an English major, things have to look good and I was too rushed to approve of my own writing), but alas, I forgot about it until just now. So here's the abridged version of what I was going to write:

1) What the 'H' are they doing to the structure upon which my education was built. Does nothing stay consistent and dependable in this world?!?! (Agonizing sigh here)

2) Remember that cute little rhyme we learned about fourth grade, when we were memorizing all nine planets in our solar system? What was it....? Oh, yes. My Very Educated Mother Just Served Us Nine Pizzas. Take out Pluto, and what will the new rhyme look like? What will Mother make now? Nachos? Nectarines? Oh, what these poor children will go through.

3) I can just see the poor fourth graders now. Yesterday the teacher was talking about nine planets, and today there are only eight? Suddenly an entire planet is gone? Nine year olds can't handle that! I can't handle that!

4) Plus for scientific text book publishing companies: Increased yearly sales in 2006, as all of their authors submit their 27th editions even earlier than expected.

5) Here's the best information I got: National Geographic's got the scoop.

6) Or, if you prefer denial, check out this guy's take on it.

This one's for you, Fuller Student...

Well, we still have not found the DVD remote, but hopes are high around here. Special thanks to David and Tori for blessing us with leftovers of their wedding cheesecake, which I was able to bring home to the delight of four hungry roommates. Even Paulby (name changed to protect the innocent) got to partake in the matrimonial cheesecake, as he was given a sample slice at his birthday picnic today.

Anyway, since this is a special entry just for Josh Serrano, but I ended up talking more about cheesecake in it, I thought I would post a picture from the wedding of Josh and me (eating the cheesecake, of course).

Tag, Josh. You're it! Time to blog something new!

B22 Group Goal #1: Find the DVD remote

Last night at B22... version 2.0

So last night we had to call Cox tech support to get our internet hooked back up (again). Since Sonia was demanding that it be done that second, I made her wait on hold after the automatic voice told me that they were experiencing abnormally excessive calls that night.

So Sonia waited.

Eventually (actually, not too long into it), Sonia couldn't take it any longer and started talking into the phone. Things like, "Pleeeeeeaasseeeee, let me be next," and "Pretty, pretty please, I just need to talk to someone real fast."

During the chants of "SBC! SBC!" Sarah revealed to Sonia that there are people called "quality control" whose job is to listen to five or six people on hold at a time to make sure things are going okay. And as soon as Sonia heard that, she started talking directly to Mr. or Ms. Quality Control person. Soon she was telling jokes, camp jokes, the ones meant to make only us and anybody who's spent over two summers at IHC laugh. Towards the end, she was trying to entice them to talk back. Something like, "Come on! I'm bored, you're bored, just talk to me!"

She pretty much had us in stitches with her comments and jokes, before her eyes got really wide and she started laughing. Covering the phone, she whispered, "They talked to me. She said I'm next!"

Woo-hoo! It's kind of like making the British guards crack a smile. Sonia made the quality control person speak. Victory!

B22 Updates

1) There are flies in our apartment. I came home yesterday, and there were like thirty of those big flies swarming our porch door trying to get home. And I killed every last one of them with country fresh scented Raid. I think Mandy thought I was being a little overdramatic when I told her of the fly fiasco later that night, but she called me this morning while I was at work to ask what the heck was up with all the flies. They're ba-ack. All I have to say is there had better not be thirty more flies in that place when I get home. I will be upset.

2) My new roommate's coming home tomorrow. Yea for Ikea trips and beach days!

3) Starting next weekend we will all be home for good. First town counsel meeting is next Saturday!

Yea for August Birthdays!

I was a little sad that no one was going to be around on my birthday, that all I had to look forward to was a full day at work and a Youth Venture shift that night. But... my amazing friends who are stinking amazing, made my day right off by calling me from camp, via Alicia's cell phone, which is pretty much the only phone that works at camp. So, thanks to all you crazy kids who called me during breakfast and totally made my entire day. You're the best!

Of course, the Youth Venture kids had no mercy on me later that night, even if it was my birthday, although I was in the lead for about half of one of the Halo games until my teammate left. Next week, you guys. Next week.

Retraction

Previously I wrote an entry about how I was mad at a particular book for not giving me the particular ending I was looking for. Let me add a little more detail here. I was upset with said book because it was written by my favoritest author in the entire world but lacked the tone I have come to adore from her. In fact, the book lacked all characteristics that usually make up her books, including, but not limited to, life-changing spiritual experiences and some deep theology woven in.

As I read, I kept expecting the characters to realize their need for God and how foolish they'd been living their live without Him and all that, and by the time I reached the end, and they had not had their stereotypical encounter, I was hopping mad that I had had to read the last quarter of it to just to get the end where nothing I expected happened. It was just... a book. No learning experience. No moral behind the story. Just a book. Granted, it was about sacrificial love and had some good life lessons in it, but it wasn't what I wanted from my favoritest author ever. Thus, the throw across the room.

Well, wouldn't you know, the very next day I came across an interview said author did soon after said book came out. The difference between the book and her other works was addressed, and she explained that this particular book was her way of trying to reach out into the secular world. She hoped to get people who wouldn't necessarily read a "Christian" book to read a regular book that would suck them in and leave them wanting more-- pushing them to the rest of her stellar novels, which are all Christian themed.

Ouch. Don't I feel stupid?

I'm so sorry, Karen Kingsbury. I never should have doubted you.

On Vampires and Neighbor Boys

Legend has it that a vampire cannot enter a house without first being invited in. But as soon as that invitation is given, the repentant homeowner cannot issue an un-invitation; the vampire gets free reign in that house. And as we all know, vampires do not make for friendly houseguests.

So when Sarah mentioned during our late Monday night watching of The Notebook that we should invite the neighbor boys down for chick flick night, for some reason vampires immediately came to mind. Hmmmm... I may be giving them the benefit of the doubt right now, but that doesn't mean I'm ready to unleash them into my living room. I have a feeling we may end up with results not unlike the vampire myth by inviting neighbor boys in. So, Sarah, let's hold off on inviting them in until it's something really important... like a rat has snuck in or a spider needs to be killed.



Disclaimer: Just in case off of you overprotective male protectors of Apartment B22 out there just got a little worried about our judgment, Sarah was (for the most part) joking about letting them in at 11:00pm to watch a chick flick with us.

A comedy, maybe, but not a chick flick. We barely know these neighbor boys.

Dear Neighbor Boys,

Seeing as how you've become the source of many jokes and much glee in our little household, especially out on the porch and in the blogging world, let it be known that I have given you the benefit of the doubt from the start. While others may question your character and ways at first, I am sure you are decent, upstanding, moral young men who have only our best interests at heart. You have already demonstrated that in multiple attempts to help out with heavy lifting and your nice smiles as we pass each other on the shared sidewalk outside our humble abodes. That said, welcome to the neighborhood, please tread lightly above us (especially at two in the morning), and hopefully you'll never discover our blogs... and what we really think of you!

Respectfully,
Your new neighbor downstairs

Frustration

I have read very few books that have made me mad at the end. Usually, I can tell by about 75% of the way if I am either going to enjoy the last quarter of it, or if things are not going to have a happy ending, that the characters will not live happily ever after, and therefore I will not be satisfied when the last page is reached.

I finished such a book tonight. When I reached that last page, I threw the stupid thing across the room. I was already mad for the last half hour of reading it, and the ending just threw me over the edge.

Sarah, when you come in later tonight and question the book lying in the middle of the floor, please refrain from picking it up. It needs some time to sit and think about what it's done.