O.J. (the beverage)

Last night we had a "dance party" at a friends house. What kind of dance party? A black out party. So to give you a visualization, imagine about 40-50 Mormons ranging from ages 18 to 30ish dancing around in our friend's parent's living room wearing white T-shirts and covered with neon highlighter (as all the lights were replaced with black lights). And to help with the much needed auditory portion of the story, you have to think a conglomeration of music from "Love Don't Come Easy" by Diana Ross to "Big Pimpin'-Edited" by Jay-Z. Got it?

Okay, so here we are having an absolute blast literally dancing for about 4 hours. There were hula-hoops (hip-hula-hooping, neck-hula-hooping, skip-it-hula-hooping, arm-hula-hooping), the ever-cliche "human train" chugging around the 50 sq ft living room, the "human tunnel" with a flurry of dance moves riding down the middle, and last but certainly NOT least: men working their mortal combat/street fighter moves to any techno song they could get their hands on (not to mention my addition of Chun-Li, war-cry included). Phenomenal.

So here's the best part. I get home, amped up on all this sober energy and I call Robert (he was studying for finals all night-which was perfect because dances really aren't his thing) and the conversation goes a little something like this:
Robert: So how was it?
Me: Oh man, oh man, it was so awesome. We like wrote all over ourselves...you know like with highlighter. Oh man, there were black lights and oh we danced and danced for hours. Seriously. It was a blast. Oh and then and then there was hula hooping, oh oh and Tom drew a ring on my finger during this song, and and then we...man. It was just way fun.
Robert: Huh. Well good.
Me: So what did you do all night
Robert: Well I read this really interesting article about (deep, insightful, deep) and then I was reading this list from the New York Times about (interesting, informative, intellectual). So that's about it.
Me: (Pause) Uh.

****FLASHBACK****

*Flashback to the tenth grade. I walk in from a long night out to my dad waiting for me (as always) he inquires about my night and I have to explain why I have orange juice dripping from my hair (after a food fight, turned OJ drinking contest) laughing all the while because to me it was wildly funny. After my pathetic OJ anecdote I look down to the book he's reading, Lectures on Faith. Crap. Dad says, "Well I've just been studying the principles of (deep, doctrinal, deep).

****RETURN TO CONVERSATION****

Me: Dangit.

Ho ho crap

Soo...If one can only stand about 15% of Christmas music on the radio, and 0% of Enya...what happens when you put them together? I'll tell you: a near frenzy when trying to change the station and because of all of the distractions not understanding when you try to change it three different times with no luck, its not that you are pressing the same buttons, but that at three separate moments, at three separate radio stations, three separate individuals decided to air that crap. You can't NOT be with me on that if you could actually bear to sit through the ENTIRE song. Torturous. I'd rather kick kittens around all day.

Coooo

Today I was a sitter at work. Sitter: a babysitter for adults in a hospital setting (I made up that definition). My patient was on suicide precautions (after jumping from a car moving 65 mph...and he was driving) so from 6-3 my job was to give this patient my undivided attention: Urinal, food, urinal, toothbrush, urinal, television and so forth. These tasks only take up so much time and the rest of the time was mine to do anything my little heart desired in a small, dark, hospital room. Unfortunately today is the first day I forgot my cell phone and Gmail was the only thing I could access from the hospital computer. Lucky for me there was a Desperate Housewives marathon on: Gchat, affairs, Gchat, someone died, Gchat, more affairs...

Also, a flock of pigeons settled outside the window. This was not-so-lucky. Pigeons are really annoying. They can literally coo for hours, and I'm pretty sure they were saying something like, "Coo, sucks you're stuck in a germy hospital room, coo". Pigeons are lame.

And in other news:

*Obama is looking to make Broadband as prevelant as telephone lines. So that'd be cool.

*There is an enormous selection of deodorant these days, you can pretty much smell like anything. I stood in the deodorant aisle for what had to have been 20 minutes going back and forth between Breezy Shower, Silk powder, or Forest Rain...and there were so many more.

*I bought strawberry cream cheese today, not because I particularly love strawberry cream cheese, but because it had a pink lid for breast cancer. Not only do I support breast cancer research; I support pink.

Odd

So today I bought a pair of scissors for a project. When I got them home and tried to open them, I quickly realized I needed a pair of scissors to open my scissors. Really? Who's idea was that?

I also was starving and running really behind schedule, so when I was at Walgreens picking up some supplies (including my scissors-to-open-scissors) I ran by the freezer aisle and grabbed a frozen dinner of mac and cheese. I know, frozen mac and cheese is even worse than box mac and cheese-but I was desperate. I got it home and realized it was in a cardboard box...how did I not realize that before? I really don't know. Directions: pull back cardboard and microwave for 2 minutes. Uh oh, this will probably be much worse than I am imagining. Bingo! I promptly trashed it after wrestling back a corner and observing a stack of freezer-burnt noodles and a pile a dehydrating cheese to boot. So...cereal?

Oh, and for some reason I have experienced some form of regression and can't stop biting my nails. I rarely bit my nails when I was a kid...why is this happening? Help.

I [almost] Voted!

Today I filled up my tank for $23. I was telling someone about this small miracle at school and as I was sharing this story I couldn't help but think of one of my dad's favorite cliche's: "happy as a pig in slop." And today, driving away from the Shell station, I was indeed, happy as a pig in slop.

In other news, today is election day! Woo! Unfortunately when I showed up to valiantly cast my ballot-I was informed that I did not have a current address registered and therefore I would not be able to vote. Crap. The first opportunity in my short-lived life to vote...to proudly display an "I voted" sticker, and nothing. Sad. Do you think I can cast my vote in prayers? If I pray and pray will this make up for my lack of democratic contribution? "Thank you for this lovely weather and please, please at least give Virginia to McCain..."

Mmmm Toasty

So I was rushing to class today and thought, hey its going to be a long day, i should make a sandwich. Little did I know it was going to be a masterpiece in the making. Originally it was just a ham and cheese sandwich on wheat, but by the time I ate it, it would be so much more. Short story, short-I left it in my car during class and turns out the heat would get to it before I did. The cheese was melted, the ham was hot, the bread was stale (and hot) giving it the texture and temperature of being perfectly toasted and bam! Hot ham and cheese. Mmmm Toasty.

Oh and I don't think its right to not have have this picture posted somewhere.

J E L L Ooooo

Somewhere along the line, a chemist made lots of money developing the Jell-O they serve you in hospitals. There is no way there is not an extra, synthesized compound hidden in the depths of a hospital laboratory that allows this Jell-O to keep it shape for days. You will never walk into a patient's room and see on their bedside table a puddle of Jell-O. A day later, three days later: perfect symmetrical cubes of green, blue, red gelatin. It's a hospital-cafeteria anomaly and I stand by it.

On a different note, at work, after giving Mr. Kadara his breakfast the other morning he shared with me his experience of being kidnapped the night before. Fortunately, he was taken to a cafe and fed a delicious meal before being returned to his hospital bed. Then he promptly asked me to leave his wheelchair by the door that night so that he could readily escape when the time was right. Did I mention he doesn't have a wheelchair? I love my patients.

On a completely unrelated note I gave my teacher a Book of Mormon and today she told me she had been reading it, it had her interested and wanted to talk more. After my initial response, (in my head of course) "Really?" I started to feel like Elder Calhoun from the Best Two Years. For those of you who have missed out on this little gem of a film, here's a quick clip that ought to give you the idea.

Sheesh, people. Sheesh.