This is Why I'm Hot

THIS IS NOT A DRAMATIZATION . . . . . . . . . MUCH.



(*cue dramatic music*)

"NO!" gasps Alli, eyes wide with terror, pointing dramatically into the kitchen.

"What's wrong?" Jerina comes running in, her black hair flying behind her.

"Look at the table!" Alli sobs, hand thrown over her eyes in despair. "The leg on that side is completely crooked! It looks like it's going to snap off any second!"

Jerina gasps as well. "But if our table were to break, we would have no place to eat food! We would all perish from starvation!!" She collapses to the floor in agony.

"And what about our adorable table decorations?! They'll fall off the table and shatter into pieces! We won't be domestic and homey anymore! Our apartment will look like a boy's apartment!"

Alli falls beside Jerina and they weep together before crying out, "WHO CAN SAVE US?!?"

(*dramatic music is suddenly cut off as another woman walks into the room*)

"Oh, hey look. The table's broken," Jessica says casually, walking over to it.

The other two girls look at each other in confusion before Jerina says, "Uh, yeah. Didn't you here us screaming?"

"As if screaming bloody murder is uncommon in this apartment," Jessica examines the table for a moment, twists at something with her fingers, then stands up and nods decisively. "I can fix this."

The other two girls turn and look at her in astonishment. Alli says, "...really?"

"Yeah, sure," Jessica says, walking back down the hall. "Just let me get my pliers."

"You have pliers?!"

"Naturally." Jessica comes back out, tips over the table, works some coolness magic and flips the table right-side up again, good as new. "There you go," She says, pleased. She spins the pliers around in her hand like a pistol and shoves them into her jeans pocket. Then she taps the lip of her matador hat, leaps onto her dark stallion and rides off into the sunset, black cape billowing out behind her.

Alli (really, not a dramatization): "Who needs a handyman when you've got Jessica Grosland around?"



No wonder none of the boys here at BYU want to date me: I'm self-sufficient!

Distress

My skin burns with shame and my blood is racing through my body, trying to flee the despair that is growing within me like a dark, smothering fog.











Consoling words fall harsh and painful upon my tender heart. I see the concern in their eyes as people look at me, trying to heal the wound in my soul. They don't understand. This is my pain, and my battle. The poison in my heart is not from an alien source, it is a part of my soul that has been with me from my earliest days. They cannot root it out without destroying an essential part of me. This darkness is mine, and I am content to own it. I will fight it in my own way and I will be alright again soon enough.

But until then,

I wish to be left alone.

All Kinds of Pompous

Ahem. Attention, inferior ones. I would like to make an announcement regarding my overwhelming awesomeness.

As you may very well be aware, I attained a rather high GPA last semester through a combination of brilliance, sleep deprivation, and Ramen Noodles. When I received my grade report, it delivered with it a boost of confidence sufficient for me to put the knife down and leave my wrist alone, as well as the opportunity to be tarred and feathered by a group of my fellow students. I was content. I expected no further reward.

However.

An envelope arrived in the mail yesterday with my name printed boldly across it. Contained therein was my ticket to prestige, my certificate of ingenuity, my chance to finally rise above the pitifully average and achieve my proper station in life. It was an invitation to be inducted into the 3rd oldest national honor society in America, Phi Eta Sigma.



Because you're never truly cool unless you're in a club with a Greek name. Can't you just see it?

Jessica Grosland - her long, brown hair straightened and glistening in the spring sunshine - walks with two other girls, all of them laughing, all of them wearing matching outfits: short black skirts and colored blouses. Jessica, whose blue blouse makes her eyes sparkle radiantly, continues her story, "And then I said to him, 'Puh-leeze! I was doing differential calculus when I was sixteen!'" They all laugh again. The other students' conversations die off and they all watch in envy as the Sigmas walk by.

. . . Ew. I don't think I could STAND to be in a sorority. (P.S. Phi Eta Sigma is NOT a sorority. And yes, I want to buy a sweater with the Greek letters on it.)

Anyway, in other news, I'm applying for a new summer job. Because waking up at 3:00 am is hard enough during the school year.

Let's have a guessing game! See if you can figure out what job I'm applying for from the pictures below. (Go one at a time. The fewer pictures it takes you to guess it, the more points you earn.)


You got it! I've applied to work as a BYU Sports Camp Counselor! (See? That was fun, wasn't it?) It's a really sweet job, where I'd have a dozen or so teenage girls to look after for a week at a time, from 4pm to 9am. I get to supervise them at Seven Peaks, at dances, at talent shows and movies, etc. So that's pretty awesome. Also, I get paid $225 a week, plus room and board, plus free meals at the Cannon Center all summer. Bada bing!

So, since it's such an excellent job, tons of people are applying. I turned in my application (complete with photograph, resume, ecclesiastical endorsement, and letter of recommendation) yesterday, and I have an interview scheduled for next Tuesday. The competition's going to be fierce, so wish me luck!



...this was a really long post. Like, it's so long that even I'M sick of it. Bonus points for making it all the way to the end!

A Funny Nerd Story

I am a nerd. This is not something that I am generally ashamed of, however it has led to some rather awkward social situations. I don't pay as much attention to fashionability as I do to grammar errors on billboards, so when the phrase "Fo sho'" became popular in junior high I greatly embarrassed myself by trying to be hip one day after school and saying, "Fa sha!" (Kim Lifferth, Jessica Pettersson, and mostly Becca Murdock still make fun of me for this.)

Anyway, the moral of the story is that when you are a nerd, sometimes you get things in the real world wrong. Such misunderstandings can be quite hilarious or rather humiliating. Generally, since I think everything is funny, I just laugh at myself and move on. As I did in the following story.

Not long after I had first moved into my apartment I was analyzing my roommates' personalities, their likes and dislikes, so that I could know how to relate to them and become friends. One of the things I picked up on was that my redheaded, pale, but Amazon-Woman-ly tall roommate Alli was really into the Kardashians.

These lovely ladies are a few of the Kardashians. They are a famously screwed up family with their own reality television series (Keeping Up with the Kardashians) and have been in the news quite a few times with their various antics. On a side note, I would not recommend searching for pictures of them on the internet, as apparently the Kardashian females have a distaste for wearing clothing.

Anyway, Alli was obsessed with this TV show. She was always talking about how much she loved the Kardashians and how she wanted to just watch them on TV all the time, how she thought all the Kardashians were amazing or whatever.

This is where the nerd part comes in, for when I heard Alli describing her fascination I heard, not "Kardashians" but "Cardassians."

You see, Cardassians are a species on Star Trek. They are notoriously rotten and conniving, and they particularly enjoy preying on Bajorans (another species, we'll talk about it later). The Federation butts heads with the Cardassians, the Maquis had a major conflict with them, and once a holographic Cardassian caused a lot of grief in the Delta Quadrant through heinous xenobiological practices. But I digress.

So when I heard Alli talking about her obsession with "Cardassians" I thought I had found a kindred spirit, a fellow trekkie who would get jokes like, "Maybe the professor is a Q" or "If only Wesley the Wonderboy were here to do my calculus for me." But alas, it was not to be. My roommates soon corrected my misapprehension, and I continue to watch Voyager episodes alone in my bedroom.

(*starts singing, eyes closed and air-guitaring*) That's my story and I'm stickin' to it!








EDIT:

To watch the music video of "That's my story and I'm stickin' to it," click the link below.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kpiUizTeRbM

*face explodes*

Hilariously Bad Campaign Video

I just found the funniest campaign video ever - unfortunately, it was meant to be serious. It's three and a half minutes long, and it's totally worth it.

Click the link. Click it. You know you want to . . .

http://video.yahoo.com/watch/6911326/17975045

Happy mocking!

Happy Groundhog Day

Have you hugged Punxsutawney Phil today?

No?

That's probably why he decided to curse us with six more weeks of winter, you selfish jerk! Thanks a lot!



***

P.S. "Am I right or am I right or am I right? Right. Right. Right right...."