Friday, January 26, 2007

"Couple Brought Together By Mutual Desperation"

I laughed so hard I peed a little bit, but how funny I found this in no way reflects on my relationship with my hot and socially savvy husband. I hope you love it as much as I did, and hopefully know a few people it reminds you of. bwahahaha.

Explainer syndrome at its finest

Explain: to make plain or clear.

condescending: arrogant, patronizing

rage: agitation, conniption fit,
rampage, spasm, outburst, tantrum or hemorrhage (thank you

Years ago, a male friend mentioned something about fettucine, then paused to let me know that "those are the big noodles."

In November, a classmate of mine was complaining that Provo doesn't have NPR available; I gave him a confused look because I had listened to it on the drive to school that morning. But no, he assumed my look was not, "What? It is too!" but instead a look of "no comprende" so immediately said "NPR. It's a radio station, and it stands for National Public Radio, and they talk about current events a lot."

As a missionary, sometimes we’d tract into somebody who would start telling us what we believe, such as “You know, if you ever flat out ask a Mormon, they’ll tell you, they don’t even believe in the New Testament!” or if we would mention the First Vision, they’d interrupt and say “No, no, I’ve lived in Palmyra my whole life, and it didn’t happen in trees, it happened in a cave, and he was an old man.” OH. Great point. Hang on, I have to go tell the last 2,000 people I’ve spoken with that I was wrong. Can I use your phone? Let me call my mom and tell her we’ve all been mixed up for 25 years. And while I'm at it, hold a sec, I have to email 12 million members and let them know that whole martyr thing was a mix-up. SO glad I met you and seriously, thanks for filling me in. Seriously.


I bet you experience this stuff a lot too...(often from men to women, but not exclusively). Talk about a surefire way to get rage (or hemorrhage).

I'm beginning to realizer that it really doesn't matter if the explainer syndrome involves something obvious (NPR and fettucine) or if it involves something you know that they think they do (Joseph Smith in a cave). Either way, it drives me NUTS (as in crazy, not as in American slang for testicles) because it makes me feel like they are assuming we don’t know our heads from our butts and I want to look shocked and confused and yell something like “Wait, I should've been using toothpaste all these years?” or “OH! WOW! You’re saying afternoon means AFTER NOON!?”

All this stems from the fact that I am in the middle of a writing lecture that is explainer syndrome times ten million and it is filling me with fury. Tips given include:

always be accurate.
write clearly.
follow the rules.
get right to the point.

Thank you for your insight, sir. Those are all really deep, concrete points that were definitely worth 50 minutes of my life. We have been in school 17-20 years and didn't realize we should proofread. I especially love "write clearly." Freak. That's like telling piano students to use their hands or football players to catch the ball or a constipated person to just poop it out: obvious, lame and unhelpful.

Am I alone in my fury??

Thursday, January 25, 2007

I want a book club like this one

Today I sliced my finger open, and it was hurting, and that was hard. It throbbed. But suddenly, when I saw this, the pain melted away and was replaced by utter joy. Warning: there is a surprise f-bomb or two in it, so don't be alarmed, and everything else is exactly how a book club should be. Books! Books! Books! Books!

Monday, January 22, 2007

Holiday! Celebrate!

It is only 10:30, and already, many signs it will be a great day, nay, a great week:

  • On the way to school, I heard both James Taylor AND Ace of Base on the radio.
  • I couldn't find a parking spot in the graduate lot, so ducked into visitor parking and used snow to cover my parking sticker so no one will know I am a student.
  • I remembered to bring my lunch.
  • My nails are finally loosening up, so hopefully they will be banished from my life shortly.
  • I finally overheard a classmate refer to our Jewish Greek and Roman Law class as "Jewish Greek and Roman Barf," something I've been hoping would catch on for 2 weeks now.

Thursday, January 18, 2007

hoobidy what-ie?

So, in my efforts to better understand the structures of the constitution (and when I say "understand" i mean "not make a fool of myself in the class so do the reading"), I just read many a page about "countermajoritarianism."

Say it with me: Countermajoritarianism.

I just want to say to blogland and therefore the world: if you are a word with more than 20 letters, I don't want you in my life. So countermajoritarianism, at 22, is simply not welcome. Goodbye.
Sternocleidomastoid (noun, meaning a thick muscle on each side of the neck, the action of which assists in bending the head and neck forward and sideways) can stay since it only has 19, but that is definitely my limit.

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

staying home

The other day I ran a bunch of errands and straightened up our new little place and made dinner and felt very domestic since I am not usually responsible in that sort of way. This conversation followed:

Me: Know what I realized? I am going to make an awesome stay-at-home mom one day.

Andrew: Honey. (Sigh, in a "haven't we talked about this a million times" pattern of gentle frustration). We can't BOTH stay home.

One more reason I love my life

So, I just finished reading a case about a man who saved up 7 million Pepsi points to try to buy a Harrier Jet (yes, as in, only for marines and used for killing people) he saw on a Pepsi Stuff commercial in the mid-90s.

Remind me of this joyful moment next time I complain about law school.

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

HAGS: Have a good summer? No, Hyper AGing Syndrome

It could happen to you.

I recently aged 11 years in a matter of weeks, and now I am 35. Well, pretty much. I have just been diagnosed with HAGS and I want to walk you through my experience: initial discovery stages, self-diagnosis, peace, and now, searching for a cure. Aging so quickly doesn't happen often, but when it happens, watch out.

Friday, I noticed my first hint something was different: Andrew got home from work a little earlier than he normally does, and I was done with class, so we embarked upon a weekend dinner date rather early.

Hint a: you are probably creeping up on HAGS and age 35 when you notice you just FINISHED EATING AND THEN LEFT a restaurant at 6:30 on a Friday night.

The night was young. We could've caught a movie, eaten some more, had a dance party, gone for dessert, hit up a play, any sort of rock out, had our own Bogglefest...don't worry: we fell asleep watching Cars.

Hint b: you are probably turning 35 when you fall asleep watching an animated film before 9 on a weekend.

We also (finally) got our couch delivered, which means we can sit on big-kid furniture in our living room, you know, like normal people do. Not only did we get our couch, but (and here is the kicker) I found myself TELLING PEOPLE THIS like it was something a) cool or b) interesting to anyone other than us. Next thing you know, I will be blogging about wallpaper and/or using all the serving platters people gave us.

Hint c: you are probably turning 35 when furniture is news. The next steps on this ladder of social aging include talking about coupons, morning sickness and early childhood development. Utah Breastfeeding Coalition, here I come!

Just when you thought my HAGS couldn't get any worse...
The hardest part of the disease is coming to terms with the fact that in a sick, soothing way: I kind of like it.

Hint d: you are probably turning 35 when you are getting more and more boring all the time, and you don't even mind.

Wednesday, January 10, 2007

to ponder

5 awesome things about being hitched:
1. My social status just went through the roof by permanently attaching myself to someone so freakishly awesome.
2. I get to kick it with my favorite friend every day.
3. I can ignore teachers who call on me as Ms. Gurr and pretend they must be talking to someone else because that's definitely not me.
4. We don't have to go home after we hang out.
5. Our baby will no longer be a bastard.

First things first...

Okay, so we have a lot to cover, what with the biggest party of my life and a champion vacation in Me-hi-co and now a permanent best friend roommate, but before we get into any of that, I need to pay tribute to two important things:

#1: The Noodle Man. Someday I want an obituary as cool as this...I know someone already invented ramen noodles, swiffers and naps, so guess I should get brainstorming. Rest in peace, sodium king. My favorite: "teach a man to fish, and you feed him for a lifetime. Give him ramen noodles, and you don't have to teach him anything."

#2: This is an awful lot like my life. (start humming "Everybody dance now!")

In other news, I picked out a pretty awesome husband.