Tanwon

10 little things

2009-05-05T08:12:00.000-07:00

Michelle introduced me to the blog called taza-and-husband, it's about a Mormon couple that lived in New York. They have since moved to DC, bought a light pink convertible pink bug, and taken lots of Polaroid photos. Her blog has a large following, and it seems that everything she posts is just so 'cute'. Lately, she's been doing a series based on her reader's lists of little things that make them happy. When I read the first one I realized that many of the things that made me happy weren't small. Like home, my parents, and my grandmas make me very happy, but they are definitely no small thing. The more I thought about it the more my list kept growing, but of big things that make me happy. Yet, after reading through more of the lists I could not help but relate. I kept thinking "oh! I totally forgot about that!" and "There are small things that I like". So to celebrate the fact that I'm not all about the big things and can celebrate the small I post my list here, even if these small things seem to happen rarely - so I guess they are kind of big in that sense. But no matter, here's my list (partially stolen from other lists, I swear I'm not a bad person):

1. pretty ribbon

2. warm summer nights

3. exploring new places with my hubby

4. pop standards, jazz, and cajun music - especially on Saturday mornings

5. dancing outdoors

6. wrapping up in a warm blanket after being cold and wet

7. all day read-a-thons on my couch

8. waking to the scent of lilacs wafting through my old bedroom window and seeing the cherry blossoms outside.

9. wide open spaces

10. waking up to the sound of a brook, warm inside a sleeping bag but with a cold nose.

Day Dream

2009-04-30T12:10:00.001-07:00

So, I finished my paper on Tuesday! Congratulations to me. I also made it to work and did my visiting teaching (woot). When I got home I looked at the schedule I had planned. I apparently thought I would have enough energy to go take a Bikrahm yoga class. John saw my plans and urged me to go. Confused as to why I was even trying, I dragged myself down to sugar house for a class, I even squeezed in some grocery shopping on the way.

It felt great to take a class! To move my body again. I forgot how emotionally attached I am to my body, if that makes any sense. Exercise is detrimental to my physical and mental well being if I don't do it. I've always noticed how much more clear my mind is after a dance class, or how I am less stressed about things when I've been exercising regularly. The thought of having a job where I am sitting down all day just kills me inside. But yeah, I even went running up Memorial grove canyon yesterday and through the avenues - I'm really going to miss that.

But yeah, the class wasn't even the best part of that evening. When I got home the apartment was spotless! The dishes were done, the carpet was vacuumed, the clutter was cleared, and there were fresh flowers in the vase. John definitely knows the way to my heart. Maybe I should write a post every time I can't stand the mess in our home. Either way, he was really sweet. I'm going to try and make it up to him tonight by making a batch of the Glauser's famous potato rolls. Yum!

Nightmare.

2009-04-28T08:24:00.000-07:00

I've been dreading today for the past four days, and it hasn't started out very well. I woke to finish my PS paper on Tiananmen Square. After my failed attempt at mustering the will to edit I began to make myself a grilled cheese sandwich. While grabbing the first piece of bread out of the bag I took the butter tray off the shelf, threw all the dirty dishes on the counter into the sink, shoved the garbage from the counter into an empty box jutting out of the trash bin, and searched for the frying pan in the drying rack. As I picked up the cooking spray off of the microwave I noticed a greasy ring left in its place. Ignoring my urge to cry at the grease ring, the mold I found in the dish in the sink, and the wilting flowers I went ahead and opened the butter tray to begin my sandwich preparation. Irritated at the remaining slice of butter left I buttered one side of the bread and somehow managed to drop the knife. Within one instant the knife managed to bounce off of the floor, onto my toe, and back onto the floor again. With butter on my two I plopped the bread in the pan before finishing my preparation. As I clamoured to get the cheese out of the fridge and placed on the sandwich in time I thought my success was near at hand - even if I accidentally used an end piece. I flipped the sandwich and decided to make an instant cup of soup. I ripped open the bag and placed its contents and water in a bowl. As I made my way to the microwave I noticed a burning sandwich. I jabbed the microwave button to open the door. The aggressiveness of my jabbing knocked over the soda on top of the microwave (next to the grease spot) which then hit the bowl out of my hand. As the contents of my soup splattered the lovely fire alarm went off and I'm sure I heard something in the background clatter and clash to the ground. I was left a mess, with butter on my big foot, instant soup sprinkled along my black pants, the left over noodles in between the crevices of my toes, the smoke in my eyes, and the blaring alarm in my head - I was annoyed. I cleaned up the mess with a plethora of Clorox wipes - which were the saving part of this routine. The soup had fallen onto the broom and mop - a truly nasty part of our kitchen. This time, with little patience, I grabbed a stick of butter out of the fridge and used a huge meat knife to cut it and melt it over the burner before spreading it on the bread. With chunks of butter over the bread I successfully made a grilled cheese sandwich. Without a tray I put the butter on the shelf and took my sandwich to eat.

The apartment is a mess. I can't take it - but if I begin cleaning I won't stop. And if I don't stop I won't finish editing my paper. I won't turn everything in that I need to graduate. I'll also forgo going to work. At which point I will loose my job. As I will not have a diploma or a job I will have no way to secure a job or make money. I will then not be able to pay for food. Then I'll starve and die. And John will be really sad. Stupid mess.

Memory lane

2009-04-20T10:03:00.000-07:00

Childhood memories were brought back to life when I started listening to Elvis Presley again this morning. Does anyone remember the DTV valentine specials? My parents recorded it one year and it's still fun to take out and watch every once and a while. I found it on youtube this morning and also found one of my favorite songs as a child on youtube. I used to play by myself in my room and sing it endlessly - always skipping the word "satisfactual" and doing the full hand motions.

sdrawkcab

2009-04-20T08:57:00.000-07:00

?sdrawkcab gnipyt draobyek eht si yhW

2009-04-17T11:39:00.000-07:00

I unknowingly spotted the front of my t-shirt with top ramen juice. I'm hoping people think that it's a part of the giraffe motif. But let's not forget the frizzy hair, the lack of socks, and the poorly cared for skin. How can I be an adult when I can't even take care of my appearance? Somedays are better than this, but most days I feel like an exhausted four year old.

C'est la vie - confused ramblings . . .

2009-04-15T20:19:00.000-07:00

So I'm a little concerned. My math professor enjoys tangents. I'm not quite sure if he does this for the students sake or for his own entertainment. Or maybe he truly is dealing with deep disconcerting issues by sharing them publicly with his class. Either way - it makes class worth going to, if not for the math. It's like watching t.v. - his character is amusing and slightly over-produced. I was fine with all his public declarations until the other day when he said something that struck fear to the center of me. He revealed through some playful banter with a student, that asked about getting our exams back, that he was from the East coast. He proceeded in the rest of his response, concerning our exams, to make up absurd excuses and finally in a mock break-down rant about how he took the weekend off and how if he were back East they would all choke and say things like "take a day off? You'll ruin your life and get no where". Yikes. I figured he wasn't joking about that last part.

Why would that scare me, you ask? Why would work scare me? Well, it doesn't. I actually love it and may sometimes even go overboard with my work if I enjoy it or see that I'm making progress. When it comes to work, I love to compete - with myself. I'm not the best standard - but it works, especially if I'm good at something. The way I handle life is the reason I have succeeded at anything (albeit those successes may be mediocre to others). But, I don't work well with fear as a motivator. I'm already fearful of finding a job in New York. Let alone succeeding in a job if I find one. Aside from that, I'm the type that needs to take breaks. Every six months I need at least three days where I don't have to do ANYTHING. This East coast mentality scares me.

Warning: the following may consist of a long, and possibly unimpressive/boring rant about my past . . just working things out.

But only recently have I been like this. In high school I was on scholarship at a dance studio, took A.P. courses, held two part-time jobs, and interned at various places for six months at a time. My first year of college was a breeze but I still worked quite a bit and tried to keep up with dance. The second year I took 20+ hours a semester, held two jobs, and danced. The third year I went part time at school while I worked two jobs (maybe three?) and danced with Odyssey II but took a summer semester. I should have graduated then. But fearful that what I had wasn't enough, I continued with my PS degree.

After my third year of college I was burnt out. I was confused. My friends were moving on, leaving me - by plane or marriage. I wanted more than what I had. I didn't know what it was though, it wasn't moving and it wasn't marriage. In attempt to feel satisfied with life I filled my schedule to the point where I didn't have time to breathe as I ran from one place to another. Aside from school and work, I began The Contemporary Movement, held a benefit concert, danced with Transfusion Hype, and received a dance offer from stiletto entertainment that I thought would give me the change I was looking for. It was the best company of it's type, they offered the best contract from what I had heard, I would be getting great pay, all my transportation and living costs would be paid in l.a. and abroad, and I would be the ballerina (albeit on a luxury cruise line) dancing three nights a week and seeing the world for the remaining days. I was ecstatic about the opportunity - even if other people didn't consider it a great accomplishment. A series of strange events altered my decision to go. The moment I received a call from the agent I told I them I would go. She said she would give me a few days regardless, as the contract was something of a binding sort - but would go ahead and mail it. In the days after my excitement turned to doubt - a really strong doubt that confused me. I realize now that the doubt I felt was a type of internal conflict. But I was in denial about it to the point that I was confused. I wanted to try to clarify my thoughts enough to convince myself that it was something I should do. I knew that I was being told not to go - but my desire to go was so strong. I couldn't find that certainty that I had felt before. I left for California with friends and left the agent to herself for far longer than I should have. In the end I obviously didn't go. I don't understand the relationship between fate and free agency - or if I even believe in fate. But I met John that October. I had waved and smiled at him for two years - and he chose that year to finally talk to me.

My attachment to John was far beyond anything I had experienced or believed I was capable of. It wasn't fear that held me to John. The conditions for our relationship were never contrived or lead by harmful motives. Which I had definitely experienced before. No one was against our relationship and no one was really for it to be honest. We were just dating. I had never considered what love was before I met John, and for months after our engagement I struggled define it. It came so clearly and easily for him. Something that baffled me then and still does to this day. At the beginning of out courtship John and I saw each other everyday for three weeks (I think) at which point there came a day when our schedules were too busy where we couldn't even see each other for a few minutes on campus. I vividly recall parking in front of the Marriott Center for Dance before technique class and just sitting in my car after my conversation with John on the phone. I felt as if the sky had darkened and the pine trees around me had grown ominously large and gloomy. The students voices faded and I felt utterly lonely. Before that point - I had only had felt fleeting moments of loneliness. Once as a child for friendship, in China for my family on Christmas, and the others for a half hour every New Years Eve from ages twenty-one to twenty-two. I let that loneliness I felt in the car last for a split second and hurried into class. I attempted to forget that feeling all day - avoiding the thought that I was becoming just another one of those clingy girls. But I've asserted to this day that it wasn't out of fear like I had seen with many others. But an actual biological attachment. My mind and body go through physical stress without John. And if he is gone for an amount of time it takes me a while to readjust when he returns. It's an odd thing to experience. Love, has yet to be defined for me. I'm sure it will all be very clear when I'm older and wiser. But I known that I'm attached to John, that in the lyricism of others "I can't live" without him for very long. Although I can't define love, familial or romantic, I sometimes wonder who loves who more. I'm sure people would shame me immediately for thinking such a thing. Why should it matter, right? And levels of love change over time, even if it can't be measured empirically. I just hope that one day I can say I love John more - because at that point I will know the definition of love. I will stop being the idiot I am every day and be able to list all the many reason I love John. Because right now, saying I love John because he helps me do the laundry, kills spiders even though he's more frightened of them than me, cooks for me, works for me, and thinks of me - doesn't seem enough. Love is far more grandiose to express it in such terms. I guess that is my folly - an immature one too. Yes, love is in the simple things. That I love John because he loves me doesn't seem right either. But I realize every day more and more that I live to love him because he lives to love me. Why is that wrong? It isn't desperate or base. Why can't serving one another and letting our love grow not as beautiful as something found in the movies. That is something I can understand - something that I believe leads to joy.

I'm not quite sure if I made any sense in this post. I'm too tired to go back and read for clarity. I'm not even quite sure why I ended up writing what I did - or what I wrote for that matter. I'm being redundant. Anyways. Life if short and I'm wasting it by not studying. I believe that was the entire reason I began writing. Sad thing is, when friends of mind write these types of blogs they note it at the beginning of the blog so that readers can jump to the ending - but I can't do that because I really have no conclusion of any sort. Here's my attempt at one:

1. I'm afraid my work ethic isn't strong enough for the East coast mentality.
2. I used to be kind of successful (in my own terms) because I pushed myself but now am burnt out.
3. I have motivation to do more now because I fear failure but am frightened that I will tire quickly and end things too soon. Thus, I haven't started anything and just sit at home worrying.
4. Reminisced about college carreer.
5. Reminisced about opportunities past.
6. Recalled that it was all to meet John - even if I'm not sure it was fate.
7. Blathered on about love like some drunken Frenchman. Ah, oui, c'est l'amour.

There's my sad attempt at concluding. And now I leave you all confused and lacking. Go read granollasdodallas.blogspot.com or michelleglauser.blogspot.com or taza-and-husband.blogspot.com. They will all fill your procrastination needs as they have mine.

Easter Morn

2009-04-14T11:48:00.000-07:00

Easter morning we spent with my parents and then dinner with John's family. It was a beautiful day to celebrate the resurrection of my Lord Jesus Christ. We took some time for ourselves and went up to Big Cottonwood Canyon. I'm excited for New York but nothing can compare to the beauty of the Wasatch mountains. I plan to get a lot of camping and hiking done before we leave.

Real Estate in France

2009-04-07T13:32:00.000-07:00

Does anyone have $550,000 that they want to give us?

Interpretations

2009-04-07T10:27:00.001-07:00

I enter a strange process when I begin a cramming session. It involves a lot of distractions. Which, for today has resulted in a random search on google that I decided to try on facial muscles. I came across an article and test you can try on reading facial expressions. I'm apparently a poor interpreter of facial expressions as only the most obvious were clear to me (which ones were obvious to you? I say the Asian girl's feelings were clear).

I was interested to learn more about reading facial expressions as a means to more fully interpret the feelings of others. But as I read this article I realized that I agree that facial expressions are not necessarily a reliable indicator of what a person is feeling or thinking. Especially since I have had many misinterpretations made of my own facial expressions (which were made unknowingly by me). So I'm led to think that facial reading is another type of new-age thing like palm reading. What do you think?

Sweaty Memories

2009-03-20T15:35:00.000-07:00

I recall when I was rehearsing for a performance I was placed first in line to roll on the floor (we were aliens in thriller - woot) with six other people behind me - and we had been rehearsing for at least three hours. And in my defense - there really was nothing that I could do! Each time someone had to roll through my sweat I heard my name called . . . "Tanya!" I felt disgusting, don't worry. I'm just a naturally sweaty person. If only I had found this article back then, although I don't think my fellow dancers would have stopped giving me a hard time. It may be why I don't get sick as often. Click here to find out about the antibiotic chemicals found in sweat.

Pink? Oh boy. . .

2009-03-19T07:01:00.000-07:00

Last night I attended a Mary Kay recruitment meeting. Yes, yes, I know. Don't worry, I feel ridiculous too . . .but I like their products - and I'm cheap. I guess as long as I'm airing out my dirty secrets I'll say that the first time I did it was because I was curious, the second time was for the free product, and the third time was again for the free product. This should tell me something about working for Mary Kay right?

One of my concerns is whether or not there are people who actually want to purchase these products? I would obviously have to find people - but I don't want to pressure family, friends, or ward members into purchasing something they don't want. I use their night solution but only need to buy it twice a year. And with their quota amount I would need to find quite a few people to meet that requirement. So my question to anyone that reads this is do you use these products or have you heard of anyone else that uses Mary Kay products?

My second concern is whether or not I can maintain an enthusiasm for cosmetics and skin care products. Don't get me wrong, I like their skin care products - but no cosmetic product or even money can motivate me for a very long time.

I feel as if I've been completely disillusioned by attending that meeting. They just threw numbers and prizes at me when I'm not really all that interested in it - and yet I come home considering joining?! I guess the only way I would ever go ahead with this is if I found enough consistent customers. But isn't the market already over-saturated with these types of people?

I guess I should take a clue from the lady that sat a few seats down from me. The director came over to her after the meeting and said "Okay now, what are your 'yeah-buts'?" and the stay-at-home-Mother said "I just don't have the money right now. We get paid next week so I would have to wait until then". Some type of conversation around credit cards and payments goes on and then I hear the Mother say "Yeah, my husband has bought into at least three other pyramid schemes this month. I should be able to convince him to do this one, right?" Yikes! So these are the type of people they are recruiting? Am I any different if I decide to join? I think I'm just convincing myself of some kind of naivete.

So, yeah, opinions are aprreciated here. Do I spend the money on:

1. A Mary Kay start-up kit.

2. A shopping spree.

3. A sewing machine.

4. Or put it into savings.

Opinions are appreciated.

The good, bad, the ugly, and what will make me fat (or fatter, take your pick).

2009-03-06T10:55:00.001-08:00

1. The bad: I took John to the airport today. He'll be gone to New York, . . .. again.

2. The good: John went to New York for orientation! Yay, go John!

3. The real good: As I was walking back to my car from math class I noticed the UU meter maid handing out what validates my Grandma in nicknaming me her little "space-trooper". I threw all propriety to the wind and started running towards my car as he was only about five cars up from mine. I dropped my cell phone (which has already partially given up the ghost as I can't see anything displayed on the screen), let a tiny shriek, and stumbled around as my backpack swung around my shoulders to the front of me when trying to retrieve the parts of my cell splayed all over the asphalt. But, real good news, I beat the meter maid! I beat that sucker to my car and laughed audibly in his uncaring face!

4. The ugly: Michael Jackson is reportedly coming to Salt Lake for his "last" concert tour. Don't get me wrong, I love his music and he's a great performer. But dang is he an ugly person inside and out (and I don't think many people are ugly . . inside or out, I guess I'm naive like that). I justify listening to his music by thinking that all of his illegal and morally wrong actions were pursued after the making of my favorite CDs.

5. What will make me fat: I felt that this was an appropriate add-on as life seems to always entail something that will make me fat. I found a place called the Village Baker near my work which has relocated to South Jordan. I was ecstatic because their sandwiches taste almost like the DeLeMare's - the bakery I worked at my Junior year of High School which has been closed the many years past. I don't know if there is any hope left for burgeoning Halle Berry figure.

Update

2009-02-23T15:46:00.000-08:00

1. I may be a nerd for it but I'm beginning a self-defense course today - and I'm all-that-nervousness you feel as if it were the first day of junior high. I've always wanted to be a ninja!!

2. John and I are looking to acquire a doggy-doo. I feel all adult-like considering buying a dog with John, a new and unfamiliar feeling. I was really excited about it at first but now I'm feeling hesitant. I'm not quire sure why though. I believe we can handle the responsibility and it would be great. I don't know. . .opinion? We like this guy, Riza:

3. Does anyone know of a no-fee, one bedroom apartment (preferably 750 sq. feet) in SoHo for $750? HahahaHAHAHAhahaha. Yeah, I know, I'm crazy.

New York City

2009-02-11T14:53:00.001-08:00

Yikes-o-rama! As Michelle would say. John was accepted to NYU if you couldn't guess by my last post! We are awaiting acceptance/denials from other schools, but NYU has had a special place in our hearts (awww). Mostly because it's supposedly one of, if not the top school in French Literature. Plus, John wants to paint in the summer (as he is an artist) and I want to dance and/or work in my "field" (that of my future degree - May 2009 baby!!). Besides all that I try not to think too hard about it - because frankly, I'm scared to move to New York City. There have been "coincidences" all around this life-altering acceptance. If we wanted - we would already have a place to live, I would have a job secured, and we would have enough money to live on. We've run into random but helpful people around town that have lived in New York or that have attended NYU. All that we would need to accept this offer has been coming to us. Truly a blessing.

Man Points Awarded

2009-02-10T08:00:00.000-08:00

John was accepted! 1,000,000 man points for John!

One-A-Day

2009-02-06T07:34:00.000-08:00

This semester I feel like I have my last two classes (of all undergraduate time) under my belt. Business calculus and Finance - which probably means that I have severely underestimated what I am in for. Especially since I'm bad at math and I'm not a business major. Aren't I special? As of right now I feel fine, but antsy because for math I've missed a few classes already. I want to e-mail my professor the following:

Dear Professor Quarfoot,

How did you get that last name? Very interesting. Why did you make it your mission to be like Tucker - the devil math man from the deep deep south? You seem nice, and you're funny too. But thirty years from now you may just be divorced, wearing no shirt under that jacket, and making all your analogies to guns and going to Wendover. And I'm not barking like a frog up a tall oak tree. But that's not what I really wanted to say. What I really wanted to say is, I want to graduate please. I want to see if a degree has actually helped me - or if I should go back to school so I can immerse myself in the academic la-la-land and think about systematic questions and their real world answers. But more than that, please help me graduate. Now, don't be upset about me missing your first week of class. If you think hard, you'll remember me in the class after yours. You know, that girl sitting mindlessly in her seat, worrying about her stuffy nose dripping everywhere on the desk and wondering why the tiny little Asian professor had such a queer last name, quarfoot. And the week after that? I realized you were my professor and I had the full intention of coming to class. But little did I know that fiber-one bars and one-a-day don't do well for me. The warning label should read, "warning: taking one-a-day with a fiber one bar may make you ill, and if female may make you wonder if you are prego". Just like that. And the third week? I made it to most of your classes, except that last one when I took one-a-day and a fiber one bar and knew that I couldn't be pregnant (too much info, I know). So please, I'll do my best. And you? You pass me buddy . . . . please.

John-fest anyone?

2009-01-28T20:58:00.001-08:00

So, John is gone for the week to New York. Now that is something worth crying over, except that we feel that it is important (I teared up never-the-less). But anyways, I read all these blogs where the Moms gush over their small children's nose bleeds. Why do I want to know what cute words your baby said today? Or what they don't like to eat for breakfast? If anything I want to hear how they accidentally pooped into your hand. But since I have no children, I prefer to gush over John. Which is easy since he's so hott. I love him. I really miss him. I'm trying to keep myself from whining in this blog but it's really hard. I've been away from him three times since I've known him. And believe me it wasn't easy. John likes to make it hard on me, telling how much he loves me and all. Thus, to deal with my awkward feelings of loneliness and my separation anxiety I'm going to indulge in a John-fest. The creepy stalker type of John-fest. Sweet love.

This is John with his painting. His hair was shorter - how cute.

This is John watching t.v. in my Grandma's guest room. Sexy back.

Hott.

This is John pre-marriage. Look how much thinner he was. Still hott.

John in Bucereas. We walked all the way back to the resort along the beach from there. It took us two hours in the blistering sun. Still awesome because John was there.

John on the sunset cruise (aka booze cruise). I like this one a lot.

John giving our wedding photographer the are-you-crazy-eye.

Sadly that is the end because I have to go wait for his phone call now. No more distractions.

Em's

2009-01-23T13:11:00.000-08:00

Isn't John just the sweetest ever? That's what I think to myself all.the.time. I especially had reason to think that on Wednesday when he took me out to a nice dinner at a place called Em's, located west of the capitol on center street. The place was quaint, the service uppity, and the food expensive (all locally grown I guess - what grows in Utah during the winter?). What more can a girl ask for? John and I mostly enjoyed the chocolate habenero ice cream (made in house that had a surprisingly short but strong kick to it) and the raspberry creme brulee - plus making fun of all the stereotypes sitting around us. Mucho gracias love!

1/21/09

2009-01-21T12:39:00.000-08:00

UPDATE:

Saturday:
After my first class, pre-ballet, ended all the girls waited for their parents to pick them up. As Olivia* began to leave with her Mom she stopped at the bottom of the stairwell and shouted up to me that she had a pony too (coincidentally Jane* brought her pony to class and was showing me) and that her name was, get your pencils out “Ms. Beautiful-sparkles-curly-wonderful”! Jane then meekly said “My pony’s name is Molly, she’s from the olden days”. Those girls are adorable!

Sunday:
While watching a movie with John and my parents and the following monologue ensued, “Argh! A fly just flew into my eye! I mean, it just dove strait for my eye. I swear I’m not lying. Why does everything have to rhyme?!”

Monday:
John and I slept from 11pm Sunday evening until 12pm Monday, ate lunch, and fell back asleep until 6pm – at which point we ate dinner and then fell back asleep around 8pm.

Tuesday:
Was reminded that my family likes to call David Archuleta – David Enchilada or just Enchilada. Missed a call from Michelle because I was trying to carry three large bags of laundry down to my parent's basement! :(

I feel kinda greedy and spoiled.

2009-01-15T09:13:00.000-08:00

Update:

1. I've been sick since Sunday. John was pretty excited, if I recall he said "Finally! A rhino virus you've never had"! John considers himself the sick one in our relationship ". . Tanya, there's always a sick person in a relationship, and I'm that one". He's been really supportive - even if he was excited to see me sick for the first time since knowing me.

2. The other day I was chatting with my Mom on the phone and mentioned to her that I did not like canned soup which is what John prepared for me the day before (I know I'm very ungrateful and spoiled). She suggested I put vegetables to mix things up. I told her that we only had cabbage . . . .and my Mom panicked. I didn't realize she was panicking, and I didn't console her with phrases like "we have plenty of food, just not fresh food". So, later that evening we had an unexpected visitor stop by. My Dad brought us sandwiches and soup from one of my favorite delis in town, Carluccis! How sweet are my parents? Yum, yum, the turkey sandwich is pictured below. . . (drool. . . ).

3. I want to organize everything. John and I are thinking about trashing most of our belongings; like selling our dinning room table, storing our antique chairs (which were an awesome wedding gift), selling one of our couches, and D.I.-ing most of my clothes so that we can move into a smaller apartment. We realized the other day that most of our apartment space was wasted space and that we don't have friends over very often because we are so busy. Why spend extra money on a place now when we can save up money to buy a home for a family in the future? There's so much unknown about our future right now that it just seems the most logical thing to do. If we end up moving we can't take all of our belongings across the country, let alone to another continent. Below though is a magnificent closet that I hope to own. I've come to realize that many spend their lives completely unsatisfied with what they have, always wanting more. And I'm afraid I'm with them on this one. I may even begin buying my clothes in the same color range so that I can have a closet like this one day. Although, I do have to defend myself in saying that if I had a closet like this I will have to sever most wardrobe and take what is only needed. So, in affect - I wouldn't be acquiring a new closet, I'd be downsizing my wardrobe - minimizing. Right? I feel greedy.

Can you handle this?

2009-01-09T15:48:00.000-08:00

Updated:

1. About 20 people from my workplace were laid off (that I'm aware of). Yikes. So glad that I have a job.

2. John made me try the McRib. I conceded because it reminded me of a Simpson's episode - not a real reason to the average Joe, but plenty of reason for me.

3. At lunch today the following conversation ensued regarding a bet that will remain unmentioned. . . (and it's not what you think it is):

Tanya: "What are you talking about? Look at this (me using my hand in a Vana White motion to suggest the value of me)!

John: "(silence). . . . can you hand me a napkin."

Tanya: (grab a napkin and stare in astonishment)

John: (Diet Coke droplets scattered all over face, down neck, and on sweater)

Tanya: "Thanks."

*Moments later . . . .

John: "Fine, okay. If I win you have to take out the garbage and clean the toilets for a month".

Tanya: "Okay, then you have to go to the gym everyday except Sundays for a month."

John: "Nope, you can't do that."

Tanya: "What do you mean I can't do that? I get to set the terms for my side of the bet!"

John: "Nope, bet's off."

. ... lame-o (that's because I'd win anyways, ha!).

Update

2009-01-08T15:17:00.000-08:00

Update:

1. I began school yesterday - but no one else did.

2. I began school again today - but no one else did.

3. I called John - school begins on the 12th.

4. The sill sticker for my renewal won't stick to my licence plate. You'd thunk the DMV would make a stickier sticker (this is why being an adult is frustrating - not death, not bills, . .. .).

5. A dirty Asian gangstah slapped the waitresses butt today and I had the strong desire to slam him in danglies and pull his head down to knee him in the face. But I figured I'd rather not die.

The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

2009-01-06T16:01:00.000-08:00

The Good:
Can I just say that I love my Daddy. He went to the DMV today to renew the registration for my car. I didn't know he was going to do it. I didn't ask him to do it. He just did it.

The Bad:
John just got home and followed me to the kitchen and watched as I just opened the box to the tasty crackers I've been waiting to eat that my Mom gave us, only to find out that three of the four packages were gone. I looked up with an open mouth to see John slightly bounce once on his heels and sharply shake his head once to the left and then the right in a "nope" fashion. Like that's going to stop me. Ha!

And The Ugly:
Everything I seem to cook or bake lately has turned out awful. I followed the recipe and it just wasn't tasty and no one wanted to eat them. When I began this marriage and got five cookbooks this Christmas from mothers and sister-in-laws I was excited that these people actually believed that I had a chance in this crazy cooking world. Cherry/Gorgonzola tartlets - a disaster. Pear/brie tartlets - bah. Chicken salad sandwich - tastes like tuna. I cooked some pretty good ribs once. I'll have to ride on that meal from three months ago until I can whip something up that people actually want to eat.

P.S. "tartlets" isn't a word. I feel like one of those people that tries to make everything cutsie by adding "-ie" on the end of every adjective. But in my defense I had no idea - I thought you actually called them that!

Mbira

2009-01-02T15:59:00.000-08:00

The Mbira.

Now, married life is really great - and I honestly don't think it's boring, which may have been the impression I left in my last blog. I only meant that I'm usually at a lost as to what to write about when it comes to newlywed life since there's too much, in that it all seems interesting to me and maybe just babble to the rest of you.

So, moving onto something that I know is interesting to everyone - what I want for my Birthday. I know, I know. .. it's immature to write up a list of things you want for you Birthday. I'm usually just content that people care to recognize my birthday let alone buy me a gift - and I'm not really making a list to notify people of what to buy me. It's more about filling my fancy and sharing with you what I think is cool, even if I eventually want to acquire these things.

As you see above there is an instrument most widely used in traditional Zimbabwe-ian music(yeah, don't know what the right title is). It is called the Mbira and I've been able to play around with one at a friend's home. Within the past couple of years I've acquainted myself with West African and Afro-Caribbean dancing, and with that has comes an appreciation for their culture, music, and instruments. The Mbira (I think it also goes by a different name too) is awesome though. I don't know what good besides enjoying this instrument will bring to me if I buy it - but yeah, if you don't know what I mean you should buy one and I'll come over and enjoy it with you. Deal? Okay.

Happy New Year

2008-12-31T13:39:00.001-08:00

As I was pondering today why blogging isn't as much fun for me as it used to be - it struck me. Before, I used to blog to compain about single life - it was a way to make light of it all. And as I've read through the blog community I've come to figure out that there are all types of bloggers out there - but quite a few that aren't niche blogs can be categorized into two groups: singles sharing anecdotes about single life and moms sharing anecdotes about mommy life. Therefore I don't have any witty poop stories. .. well, I guess what I really mean it that I don't have any witty children poop stories that I can write about or any other poop stories that I can write about publicly (hee). Plus, I didn't just endure some horrible date - and I can't complain about men, although my coworkers tell me that with time I'll have plenty to complain about.

Thus, I have nothing to really work with. I could blab on about how lovely my husband is, how immaculate is his beautiful body. But I'm pretty sure the few people reading my blog would run for the hills (not that people don't like to hear about my husbo's apotheosis). I could also breakdown the long, long discussions that John and I sometimes have about marriage and relationships - but that would definitely take away any fun left in blogging. Believe me, it's important to "communicate" but dang, it definitely is not any kind of hay-ride.

Plus some people can just write well and make everything, like newlywed life, be interesting (ahem, not that it isn't). All I would end up doing is being nit-picky about things I want John to change (like picking up the towel after his shower and not eating on the bed) and discuss about how last night John turned his head in my direction and was able to miraculously place his nostril right over my pointer finger as I scolded for joking about misogynistic things. But I would be guilty of all those same things too - so it wouldn't be as fun.

But, yeah. As usual I have no idea where this blog was heading. So I guess I'll just revert to the way I've been doing blogs for the past few weeks.

1. I bought "breathe happiness", a lotion from Bath and Body Works. It feel slightly happier when I use it.

2. I bought fillo dough today. I'm scared I'll mess up.

3. I feel like a haggard 80 year old woman. It hurts to walk, it hurts to straighten my legs. .. sad.

4. Happy New Year!!!!

5. I'm a newlywed, and life is interesting. John lodged his nostril over my pointer finger yesterday.

6. I found John's camera! Woot!

12/30/08

2008-12-30T10:01:00.000-08:00

12/30/08:

1. My body really really aches.

2. If done right an African dance class can rock your body, turn your body rock hard, and make it feel as if it's been hit by thousands of little rocks the next day. Love it! I even did the prayer position after the two hour long class yesterday - I am so hard core.

3. My entire spine hurts . . . places in my back that have little mobility even hurt.

4. I feel healthy . . . .ouch* ("feel the pain, love the pain. .. . ahhhh!!!")

4a. I feel healthy except for the handful of runts I just ate.

5. Christmas was nice. I love that it is a season dedicated to remember Christ.

6. Gongxi-gongxi ni ya (sorry about the poor romanization)!

7. I'm wearing a pretty scarf Julianne gave me (woot, woot) - it's made of recycled silk and was hand-crafted in Nepal.

8. I found my paycheck!!!!!! Yeee-haw!

12-17-08

2008-12-17T10:13:00.000-08:00

Here I go again, and in no logical order:

1. Began morning at 4:30 a.m. to "Volare" by Dean Martin.

2. Began morning again at 4:45 a.m. to "Volare" by Dean Martin.

3. Again, began morning at 5:00 a.m. to "Volare" by Dean Martin.

4. To no finality, awoke once again to "Volare" by Dean Martin at 5:15 a.m.

5. Eventually, awoke only to fall back asleep to "why is it so loud by "ugh" at 5:30 a.m.

6. 5:45 a.m.: "John, what time is it?" John, "I hate 'Volare'".

7. 8:00 a.m.: Math final begins

8. 8:30 a.m.: Arrive for math final, and all I have to say is: I hate integrals of natural logs and I hate cylinders (all my garbage cans are going to be cubes with an open top from now on).

9. 9:15 a.m.: Moans and the sound of a head being banged against a desk.

10. 10:45 a.m.: Hit lanterns on ceiling by lifting mattress. Held up mattress with head, neck, and shoulders to lift bed box all while balancing on the 4" Ikea "stupid bed" . . frame.

11. Retrieved cell phone.

12. Disabled alarm, banned "Volare".

13. And now I am presently looking at a clean pile of laundry lying on the floor - looking, not folding.

In short. . .

2008-12-15T17:53:00.002-08:00

12/15/08 in short:

1. I finally turned in my drawing pad to my professor! Which is a notable accomplishment since I have a difficult time forcing myself to draw subjects I'm not interested in. Now that my drawing class is over I'm excited to start work for my portfolio - comprised of drawings I'm interested in doing.

2. I parked (ticket-free!) in the loading zone for an hour and a half in President's Circle so that I could arrive at my math study session on time. I almost feel guilty but pleased that I escaped the parking Nazis.

3. Work had the annual Christmas party at Fat Cats. I studied math while everyone bowled - but I got three free paid hours, a t-shirt, lunch, and a much needed bonus to pay for a new windshield (so that my car can pass inspections)!

4. I awoke this morning after having a horrid nightmare about testing psychological torturing devices for a corrupt government that I worked for. To keep things short I eventually became subject to the torture which I was testing, a small device that emitted a high pitched noise - similar to the thing they used in Ironman. I also became partially mad due to a side-affect and blacked in and out of what was happening in the room I was in. Eventually the other prisoners and I that were imprisoned escaped through a four story window onto a tree(at which point I became a man) and then crawled through a swamp to safety. I then announced to a female colleague of mine that escaped with me that I was in love with her. AHHH! Insanity, torture, being a man! Not the best way to start a day.

A few things.

2008-12-11T21:17:00.000-08:00

A few things to mention about today:

1. I caught the bank making a naughty mistake. Luckily I got my $144 back.

2. I attempted to make the coco puffs version of rice crispy treats. John tenderly named them "reindeer terdies". I wonder how my visiting teachers will manage to eat them.

3. I saw Brother Reader* at Subway and asked how Sister Reader was doing - maybe if I had a better memory or common sense I would have kept my mouth shut when my mind asked "where has Sister Reader been? I haven't seen her around for a long time. . ."

4. My professor called my cell phone. To make a long story short I'll just say I feel like a jerk (and not just about Brother Reader).

5. I gained .5 pounds. This wouldn't matter except that I joined this blogger weight loss thingy - never before have I felt so American. And I'm not kidding about this. BBQs, 4th of July parades, firewors, feeling moved by national monuments, loving America has never made me feel as American as joining this blog group. There may be something wrong with me.

The end.

Why I may join the rest. .. .

2008-12-05T10:08:00.000-08:00

Name: THE FRUTISTA

calories: 250

sugars: 59g

Alright, is anyone else horrified at this? I've recently discovered the frutista, to my taste buds delight. But each time I've tasted this sweet elixir something in the back of my mind has nagged at me. The story goes - I conveniently drive by a taco bell around lunch time and pick up a fruista, I then conveniently forget to check the nutritional values for the drink online. Well, keeping with the my recently adopted tradition of facing the hard facts of life - there was no other way to avoid my nutritional conscience and get online. For those of you that aren't of close relation to a diabetic or healthy living 59g in one twenty minute sitting may not frighten you. But it should. Ladies and gentlemen, the daily consumption for sugar for a woman my age should be 48 grams (at the most)! And remember, when nutritionists suggest this number they assume that most of the sugars should come naturally - and not from corn syrups like where the lovely fruista finds it's genetic makeup. And to make things worse - I ate crescent rolls for breakfast. I am on the fast track to becoming a part of the American landscape called large panis - otherwise known as FAT!

Oh Gratin!

2008-12-03T16:51:00.000-08:00

For Thanksgiving at the Allens, John and I made a few dishes from a magazine I bought when trying to validate my parking. It was a life changing day to say the least. I had no idea that such delicious and fine food recipes could be made so easily. Our favorite of the recipes tried, the potato and mushroom gratin, was basically about the layering. Luckily it was even easier because the "compulsive cooker" had already soaked and peeled the potatoes. Mother also happened to make the cranberry sauce assigned to my cousin Kim and Darwin to bring. This dish may have never come to fruition if I hadn't called her on a whim! And where would I be - stuck thinking that fine cooking was only meant for the precocious. To entertain and educate you on the symptoms of compulsive cooking I offer you the following dialouge:

Me: Hi Ma! How are you?

Mother: I'm still cooking for Thanksgiving dinner (*fake sigh of exasperation)

Me: Oh, can I pick up those potatoes that you bought so I can begin this recipe I found?

Mother: The potatoes?

Me: Yeah, the ones you found a good deal on.

Mother: You really don't need to do it Tanya. Why don't you just let me make them?

Me: Mom! You do not need to do all the cooking yourself, let me help you!

Mother: Well, I've already peeled and soaked the potatoes. There's really no point in doing it. Why don't you bring ice instead? Oh, by the way can you tell Kim that I don't need her to bring the cranberry sauce?

Me: Ice?

What a compulsive cooker! Since I was little my Mother has always made meals with at least two dishes in addition to a salad, vegetable dish, main course, and dessert - and apologizes when she only serves salad, a vegetable, and a main course! She says she needs more space in addition to the two refrigerators and large deep freeze used to service herself and my Dad (and John and me on occasion). After visiting for a Sunday dinner she sends us home with enough food to last three days! My Mother could feed all of China! I love her very much and realize now how spoiled I've been. Which may be why I used to struggle making Kraft macaroni and cheese (it also may have to do with my tendency towards experimenting). I recall Jr. High when I would sell my Mother's sanwiches for $5 to juvenile boys thirsting for something other than pizza hut. As of right now - with our take-home supplies obsolete coupled with finals and deadlines, John and I have been finding our lifeblood at Burger King, Taco Bell, Little Caesar's, and Subway to healthy it up a bit. I just consider myself lucky - last night I was thirsting for a smoothie and what do you know! Taco Bell was marketing a "Fruista". Truly a smoothie to be beaten - but surely packed full of sugar. Hmmmm, sweet sugar. So, to end this truly confusing and tangental post I say Happy Thanksgiving and Merry Christmas - oh, and try that potato recipe, it's really good!

Yeah it's scary. .. but so is life. .. .

2008-11-19T08:18:00.001-08:00

: to utter a high-pitched plaintive or distressed cry

2008-11-19T08:08:00.000-08:00

I'm burned out.

I'll readily admit that I have a lot to do - but rarely do I say that I'm not capable of bearing it. It seems I've past that point. Thank goodness because slacking for the next two hours is going to feel great. Make that one hour and ten minutes . . . . dang.

I can't wait for the day when I can focus on one thing at a time. Maybe even for an entire day at a time. Believe me when I say I'm not asking for monotony, or even a nice schedule. Just time to do what I need and what I want. I've over-scheduled myself again. . . and to what end? I never get anything done the way I like it. Blahhhhhh.

P.S. The spell checker said I have spelled every other word wrong.

2008-11-11T16:16:00.000-08:00

So, I haven't been tagged. But I still did this survey. It's kind of like going to a wedding reception you aren't invited to. Haha. Anways, I'd like to see what John and Michelle have to say. Pretty much my only blogging friends. :D

10 years ago:
1. I was in the 8th grade and I ran for cheerleader.
2. I was first chair, first seat violin in orchestra. I was horribly condescending to Mr. Jackson and openly mocked him in class. I feel horrible.
3. I attended “Art Group” after school on Tuesdays and did absolutely no art. I think I made soap once. I mostly chatted with my friends, bought fries at the shop down the street and made up phony love notes with Joanna and dropped them in random lockers.
4. I had a crush on a kid named Dustin. I even made fun of Hansen (I loved Mmm-bop) in the French class we had together in hopes that he’d relate to me.
5. I hung out at Valerie’s house a lot after school.

Five things on my To-Do List today:
1. Drop off John’s dry-cleaning. It’s been on my to-do list for at least a month.
2. Do my stinking math homework.
3. Go to The Contemporary Movement class tonight. I always feel pressure to go – even if I have a lot more important things to do.
4. Strip search our bedroom – John got a spider bite last night.
5. Find my check from The Dance Company. I’m sure it’d help with purchasing groceries.

Five things that I would do if I were a millionaire:
1. Pay for student loans.
2. Put enough money aside for housing (five years of it) for wherever we are about to move to in a year.
3. Purchase John a new suit and sweater.
4. Take my parents, John, my Grandmothers, and Michelle on a trip somewhere.
5. Divide the rest out to family and friends.

5 Places I have lived:
1. Salt Lake City: Millcreek I guess is it’s proper name.
2. Salt Lake City: in the “urban” area. I don’t know what is considered urban though. If wicken sing-songs in memory grove on summer solstice, a voodoo practicing neighbor, an internet game obsessed boy, and a lesbian couple downstairs make up urbanity I guess so.
3. That’s about it. Not much variety I guess. I spent a month in China. Does that count? Hah.
4. John and I may be moving to NYC.
5. John and I may also be moving to New Jersey. I don’t think this counts.

5 Jobs I've had:
1. Filling wretched plans for my Dad’s office.
2. Sandwich “artist”: Once for Subway and another for DeLaMares – so yummy. I guess I actually had a decent metabolism since I didn’t gain twenty pounds from working there.
3. Dance teacher.
4. Uh, dancer.
5. Server.

Arizona Trip

2008-11-10T16:57:00.001-08:00

MY ARIZONA TRIP IN PICTURES (. . . because I'm too lazy to write)

THURSDAY DAY OCTOBER 30TH

GRAND CANYON – NORTH RIM

FRIDAY DAY OCTOBER 31ST
SONOMA – ARTIST COMMUNITY

SATURDAY NOVEMBER 1ST
TALIESEN WEST

SUNDAY, NOVEMBER 2ND
ARCOSANTI

Overall it was an interesting trip - one that could only happen when you have my Dad at the wheel and my Mom packing the snacks for the trip. To elaborate a bit, my Dad loves to take driving trips. Meaning he will happily take a two hour detour to see more of the land. On the bright side he knows of some obscure but interesting places to go, which is why this trip turned out to be unlike any other I've been on, even educational of sorts. My Mom is hilarious in that she will bring a cooler and three bags of "snacks" for us to eat, like on this trip. There was lots of good food to eat like those little round cheeses wrapped in wax.

I enjoyed seeing the reality of two architects dreams. I also enjoyed my parent's company and seeing the grand canyon for the first time. I was also able to read The Host by Stephanie Meyer in it's own setting - the Arizona desert. That was fun. I enjoyed that book much more than Twilight - that isn't to say I don't like Twilight. Two sad parts were that my Mom's wedding ring was lost and John couldn't come. Other than that it turned out quite memorable.

2008-11-08T14:19:00.000-08:00

I found this list on a humorous blog and thought I'd share.

Deep Thoughts For Those Who Take Life Way Too Seriously:

1. Save the whales - Collect the whole set.

2. A day without sunshine is like - Night.

3. On the other hand - you have different fingers

4. 42.7 percent of all statistics are made up on the spot.

5. 99 percent of lawyers give the rest a bad name.

6. Remember, half the people you know are below average.

7. He who laughs last thinks slowest.

8. Depression is merely anger without enthusiasm.

9. The early bird may get the worm - but the second mouse gets the cheese in the trap.

10. Support bacteria - They're the only culture some people have.

11. A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.

12. Change is inevitable, except from vending machines.

13. If you think nobody cares, try missing a couple of payments.

14. How many of you believe in psycho-kinesis? Raise my hand.

15. OK, so what's the speed of dark?

16. When everything is coming your way, you're in the wrong lane.

17. Hard work pays off in the future - Laziness pays off now.

18. Every one has a photographic memory. Some just don't have film.

19. How much deeper would the ocean be without sponges?

20 Eagles may soar, but weasels don't get sucked into jet engines

21. What happens if you get scared half to death twice?

22. I couldn't repair your brakes, so I made your horn louder .

23. Why do psychics have to ask you for your name?

24. Inside every older person is a younger person wondering what happened

25. Just remember -- if the world didn't suck, we would all fall off.

26. Light travels faster than sound. That's why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.

27. Life isn't like a box of chocolates . . . it's more like a jar of jalapenos. What you do today, might burn your butt tomorrow.

Hey sugar!

2008-10-24T15:13:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I feel that I have no taste. I'll even go as far to admit that sometimes I am just plain trashy. It's not that my intentions are ever to act unrefined - but some things just come naturally. For example, my love of convenience store hot dogs has me eyeing every Maverick I drive by on my way to class. My indulgence in my genetic addiction to Diet Coke - shared by every cousin, aunt, and grandmother on my Dad's side. Those are just a few of my "Oslo" moments (as John and I have coined).

The odd thing is that I hadn't come to these conclusions until just yesterday. I don't know yet what was so enlightening about an act I had performed many times previous, but as I entered the Maverick I noticed something felt a little uncomfortable. I perused the isles to find a tasty treat to hold me over until classes were over and I could catch lunch. I decided a hot dog was the best of all the options provided - the ice cream was fattening, the candy sugary, and the buffalo wings trans fatty. With the right condiments my hot dog could hold all attributes from fatty to trans fatty all in one. I then noticed the music overhead whining "pour some sugar on me". I then remembered that each time I encounter a slightly trashy situation this music happens to be playing. As if choreographed in perfect harmony with the lyrics I noticed a middle-aged Calcutta cashier sporting a dyed red mullet performing the best suave move he could muster on his coworker - the 60 year old version of Barbie. I interrupted abruptly by placed my hot dog and diet coke on the counter. The cashier had difficulty scanning the item. I then exclaimed in what I've always considered a consumer's best trashy response, "that must mean it's free"! I think it was in that moment - with sugar being poured everywhere from my splenda diet coke to the lyrics to the 60 year old barbie - that I noticed how almost anything related to sugar and a convenience store (and possibly pet names) probably does not maintain the highest caliber of class. But who am I to judge?

Nothing in comparison. . I will not whine. .. .I will not whine. .

2008-10-13T15:42:00.001-07:00

Five minutes previous to posting I read what I had written. I apologize for the somewhat inappropriate content. But I've decided that I will leave it up as a testament to myself. .. . that I need to fill this web territory with something more uplifting. Plus what is an examination like mine compared to giving birth? Nothing I'm sure.

Probably Inappropriate

2008-10-13T15:00:00.000-07:00

A recent conversation with John reminded me that we need to love our neighbors. What brought us to this remembrance was a common conversation that surrounded our neighbors.

John: “. . . yeah, I wouldn’t want to upset the lesbian couple downstairs.”

Tanya: “Heh, or the voodoo man that lives behind us.”

*pause*

Tanya: “I feel kind of bad always joking about them.”

John: “Yeah, they’re people too.”

And that is why, my friends, I have no problem telling you that I have hemorrhoids. Remember I am your neighbor too and I'm human (which is partially why I have hemorrhoids). My logic may not be crystal clear on this one, but when you sit down and contemplate you’ll most likely come to the same conclusion as me. .. . that I am lovable even with hemorrhoids.

First, we shouldn’t judge others for their eccentricities. . or their eccentric medical conditions.
Secondly, hemorrhoids are pretty common. About 40% of all adults have had, do have, or will have hemorrhoids. So if you are laughing right now, just you wait.
Thirdly, I have the type of hemorrhoids that don’t hurt, aren’t visible unless you do a thorough examination and only require that I take benefiber.
Fourthly, I didn’t ask for hemorrhoids. They just came. I’m not obese yet, I don’t sit for long periods of time yet, and I haven’t kissed any frogs lately.
Fifthly, Joey from "Friends" did a t.v. commercial for hemorrhoids.
Sixthly, you must feel sympathy for my horrifying doctor examination:

Dr. Helga Van Helsing* : “Now, what it is that you need today that bother you?”

Tanya: “Um, well. There has been blood in my stool.”

Dr. Helga Van Helsing: “Have there been any problems in the bowels?”

Tanya: “No. But those are some dang pointy shoes you got on”. .. ha not really ..

Dr. Helga Van Helsing: (walks to the counter with pointy high heels and grabs gloves)
“First, we do a digit examination.” . . . she points her finger upwards.
. .. .the slap of the glove ricochets in my ears as I stare at her dazedly.

“And then I will take this.” . . . she then picks up what looks like
a mini bazooka and makes a sharp stabbing motion and holds it firmly.

“Insert. Look. And take back out.” I cringe on each. sharp. movement.

“It, will be okay.”

Tanya: Um. . . okay?

After the finger examination I was shaking like a frail willow leaf in a windstorm. I asked my wiry blond German doctor if she would make normal conversation while she looked around very invasively. . .

I'll stop at this point in the story or else I may start to shake again. But with this end I remind you that this parable of sorts is to remind you of the need to love your neighbor. . . because they may have hemorrhoids too.

John is my Mao and I don't mind (and I'm a P.S. major)

2008-09-15T16:31:00.000-07:00

You're probably wondering why someone who detests most of what Mao did is now flaunting his propaganda on her blog. The only solution I can offer is that it is the best analogy that I can make between my newly wed relationship with my husband. Is it a little frightening? Maybe to some, but enjoyable for me more than anything.

**Let me first of all make the point that I consider my husband a hottie, and thus by posting the following information is he in no way any less of a hottie.

Alright, disclaimers aside I can now feel free from the weighted feelings of guilt and share my husband's humorous use of propaganda in our relationship concerning his appearance. In no way am I convinced by his attempts, just like the Chinese and Mao. So this isn't a question of the chicken and the egg, but rather a commentary on how not only I believe my husband is a hottie, but how anyone that comes in to contact with him does as well, heh.

I have never met anyone so sneaky but so endearing about forcing their world view on another. And this isn't just because I am married to the man! And let me just say that my husband's world view entails that he is a very very beautiful man. Even more beautiful than say a fictional character named Edward. Aside from speculation I know that a poster can put all competition to rest. Which my husband so kindly illustrated and printed for my very own personal use in my office (please refer to figure 1.1).

1.1

In figure 1.1 we see that John has subtly emphasized his very toned and very large pectorals and tree-trunk sized neck. Not to mention his very luscious lips, don't worry I'll keep it clean. The rest of the drawing has yet to be filled in (I know you're all dying for the rest of figure 1.1) but will remain with me upon completion, heh.

So, after a long day at school I enter my office, sit down at my desk and take a deep breath and glance to my right and look at John's immaculate rendering of himself (figure 1.1) above my beautiful white phalaenopsis orchid that he gave me on a whim. I log-on to my personal computing device and am greeted with a desktop the same as figure 1.1 but with me depicted to the side of him (with swirly lines depicting a slowly released fart no less).

Feeling the immense differentiated beauty that lies between me and my husband I then begin my work. I check my email and sort through the new business and find a message from my John noting that he loves me and hopes that I had a nice day. I feel better knowing that he loves me despite his ethereal beauty but of course make the mistake of looking directly to the right of my computer monitor where four pictures of John and me lay in comparison on our wedding day. I take another deep breath. Actually, I take about ten deep breathes and by the time I open my eyes my screen saver has taken over with the following French phrase shown in figure 1.2:

1.2

For those of you that do not speak French the phrase translates as "I really believe that John is the most beautiful man in the world!". I breathe again. At this point each day I begin to believe that not only do I believe that John is wonderful but that the entire world does. I move on to more work and enter my user name to a hospital system and then enter the password, JGIMMACUL8!. I leave work with an overwhelming feeling of John's immaculateness and begin my ride home.

Upon my arrival at our apartment I find a list on the door depicting all the reasons why he loves me. I take the list and enter our home and am greeted by a wellspring of attar-like scents. Thyme, basil, and all the lovely smells of John's professional level type cooking fill me with hunger. Even with his beauty he smiles and looks happy to see me and greets me, waiting for me to notice the flowers in my favorite shade of orange on the counter top. With no expectations and all the beauty in the world my husband does this far too often than I deserve. As well as the laundry, cleaning , and drawing of baths. So, for all the propaganda shoved my way, I'm beginning to believe that propaganda for once has been created to declare truth. And that all the posters and phrases are welcomed and are considered declaration even if a little exaggerated. I love John.

Reconvening

2008-08-30T12:48:00.000-07:00

Update

Tanya: Oo, before you tell me. Guess what I found online?! Heh, takeouts! Woot!
The fun just keeps on comin'!

John: they have book out takes?

Tanya: heheee

John: k, we may need to consider an internvention or something here pretty soon

Tanya: Didn't you read the blog?!
This situtation has already been taken care of.
It has been handled.
No worries.
Just go back to work.
Don't even think of bothering yourself with this! You are under far too much stress.

John: righty-o....

Tanya: hump.
oopshahaha, that was an unfortunate typo.
I meant to write humph.

John: hump?

Self-Image destroyed!

2008-08-30T11:15:00.000-07:00

So, I'm sitting here at work listening to 80's "retro" music (whatever that is supposed to imply), considering the extent of my recently developed obsession. At first this obsession was a joy and I relished in it. My husband would take easy shots at my apparent and accepted obsession, and I didn't mind. We bantered back and forth about it - he about the obviously cheesy content, and me suggesting that all this teasing was a mask for interest (kind of like a grade-school boy pulling your 7 year old pig-tails).

So, as I accepted this obsession with ease I knew it must come to an end since this certain obsession, does not take the form of an infinitely available resource. I let my self-control take a vacation and let it all go. Woot! Really, I was even so interested that I let myself indulge in this obsession at stoplights, and may have even missed a few hours of work (well, a few is . . . . maybe more.. .uh, who really cares) for this . .. interest.

I've recently decided that this obsession may be more than I realized. I had no idea that releasing all self-control in this area would prove dangerous. I use self-control, like most people, to maintain focus on life-priorities. But I've found a new use for self-control. But before I get to that point I must make a pre-emptive point. So, we all have likes and dislikes right? But we also have accepted ideas of what is cool, and ideas of self-image - right? But sometimes those two ideas don't mege well. So, let's just say that I did have an idea of both - but I've been completely blind-sided. You probably have no idea what I'm talking about. Just let me warn you, don't say good-bye to self-control no matter how tempting a teenage novel may be (heh, yeah, that's right). .. .. it may lead you down an unknown path only to arrive at an all too familiar place. A place that could wreck the impenetrable facade I've created. One of a cool, calm, and collected individual with refined tastes. Self-control was once used to abstain from specific activities that may be interesting but might place me in the category of nerd, or new age, or trekie - or even worse, a romantic (barf, the image of someone who fantasizes over romance always seemed so unpractical and silly to me). Whatever the image is, I'm frightfully near complete engagement with it. I thought that reading a book about a family of vampires was a silly idea at the beginning. Not so much anymore. I thought visiting a favorite author's website was a little over the line. Not any longer. I had no idea I'd enjoy. .. being a . .. . fan. Of a vampire book no-less. Or, a romantic. Wow, that was hard.

You know, I'm just working through issues here. This is like a forum really. I had no idea that I was sacrificing my self-image for a teenage romance novel! I mean, it's hard when my husband gets home at night. I sit and read my novel of silliness and consider the meaning of love while he works on academic-posh stuff. Stuff that get's you somewhere in the world, like translating some old Frenchie's document and GRE stuff and whatever other smart stuff that he does - googlie glaven haiven. Hmph.

So what is my new found use of self-control? I'm not really quite sure why I even asked because I don't really know, heh. Maybe it is to stop things before they begin, but once it's too late there's no helping it! Of course, this last stipulation is only in applicable to my obsession. You can always give up an obsession, you didn't let your self-control take off to bermuda.

Well, I guess that is all for now. I'll have to reconvene with my blogger support group in a couple of weeks to update my progress. Although the group mainly consists of Google and me - I hope that we, mostly I, can make it through this hard time. But I doubt it until 11.21.08! Mahahahahah! WAhoooooOO!

Ready to rock?

2008-08-18T10:16:00.001-07:00

I dislike when I enter a bathroom ready to rock and see that their is one person left and about to wash their hands. I get all relaxed knowing I'll have the bathroom to myself. But when that person happens to be the type of person that will not only wash each finger methodically they usually end up being the type of person that will take their time fixing their hair and reapplying all of their makeup. Which means that I have to find a way to extend the time that it takes to get to a stall to do my business - including going to the baby room to set down my toothbrush and toothpaste, check out one or two stalls and act as if they are too dirty for my standards, and then take out two toilet seat covers, sit down and prepare my toilet paper. If they haven't left by this point in time their is no helping what will come next.

Well, all of this and more happened today. Except it felt more uncomfortable since one of my sisters-in-law clogged our toilet yesterday (totally awesome sister-in-law by the way, so I don't really mind). Which wouldn't be a problem except that we don't have a plunger and the medication that I was taking for my week long absence of movements (thank you Mexico) decided to be cured yesterday at the same time. A week is a long time to eat and to not dispose. So now that I am able to dispose, I need to dispose - and it's so not cool. The need to dispose and fear of disposing while other people are in the same room plus a clogged toilet at home - is really uncool. But to my surprise the bathroom-sink wader left before the tirade began! I was overjoyed that I didn't have to endure her thoughts of pooping ridicule! I was making my way through, disposing and the end was in sight! Nothing could be worse than the toilet mingler, . . . except for the interrupter. No one likes to be interrupted in the middle of a movement, right? I certainly don't. Call it what you may, but the interrupter or intruder has no idea of their intrusion. They are only thinking of doing what you are already doing. It's natural. And I can't get upset at being interrupted. . .. except it is upsetting. Not emotionally, but more physically at the stop or the seizing-up of a movement. I know I'm getting pretty graphic here so I'll stop. I just thought I share my experience, hoping that I'm not the only one out there that thinks about their bathroom visits while sitting at their desk.

Half a can of diet caffeine-free Pepsi Cola

2008-08-18T09:57:00.000-07:00

On Thursday I dropped an unknown coworker's half-empty diet Pepsi can in the Cardon fridge. I wrote and printed a letter saying "I dropped your diet Pepsi. If you'd like a replacement please contact our customer support line at 10254". Everyone in the other department made fun of me. Ha ha right? But you never know! Some people are really cheap. . .cheaper than me. I can just imagine someone saying "who drank a 1/4 of my four day old half-empty can of diet Pepsi?". But yeah, I'm sure there are a lot more important things in the world to worry about than spilling an opened can of diet Pepsi.

Mexico, a gun, and charges?

2008-08-18T09:51:00.000-07:00

I thought I'd write a little about our trip to Mexico. Well, it's not really about Mexico (and apparently not that little looking back at what I've written). . .it's more about me trying to board a plane to Mexico with a gun. Ha! It all began with Sister Urquidi throwing me a bridal shower for the ages where she proposed a theme of the five elements (wood, fire, water, earth, and metal). She decorated with Asian lanterns , even hung the tacky red and gold signs that us Asians like to use on every door telling people Asian things like "good fortune" and "much wealth". She had Sampan cater and even asked her Asian niece to aid her in serving and preparing everything. She even had mini-parasols, fortune cookies, Asian fans, and made a menu with an Chinatown-looking font. There was even Asian music to set the mood and she gave a presentation on Feng-shui and traditional Asian weddings dressed in an Asian outfit (I thought she may be even more Asian than my Mom and me). She is such a sweet lady, . . she did all of this and has an auto-immune disease as well. Anyways, (. . . that was a tangent if there ever was one) my Mom's good friend and a lady I used to baby-sit for (three boys that bring memories of wrestling at midnight and hiding their naked brother from me so that he can go run out in the front yard and show everyone his nudie-pride) gave me a gift for each of the elements. Cups for water, a spoon of some sort for wood, a pan for fire, I forgot the earth one, and a miniature cap gun for metal (I assume for threatening John when I really want him to do the dishes or something). I thought is was pretty hilarious so I kept it in my purse. The night before the wedding I threw my purse into my carry-on luggage, being too lazy to individually pick out my wallet and cell phone from the scary mess that had grown inside my purse over the wedding planning months. Thankful to know I had everything I needed we headed to the airport (by way of my best friend and maid of honor Michelle). As we travelled through security they had us stop and asked me if I had a firearm in my luggage. I laughed and the security guard just stared. Within the following five seconds I recognized in his expression him doing a complete scan of my appearance and habits trying to determine how much of a terrorist I was. And within the next five minutes they had run a background search and had asked me quite a few questions (and probably planted undercover agents to watch me as I boarded the plane). Once they realized that it was a cap gun they seemed to get a lot happier. Although I didn't feel too happy when they said they needed to see if they had to press any charges! Yeah, I just had to sign a paper, no jail for Tanya . .. yet.

Celebrity Morph by MyHeritage

2008-08-11T15:52:00.001-07:00

MyHeritage: Family tree - Genealogy - Celeb

trichotillomania

2008-07-09T11:43:00.000-07:00

The Word of the Day for July 09, 2008 is:

trichotillomania • \trick-uh-till-uh-MAY-nee-uh\ • noun : an abnormal desire (depending on who you are) to pull out one's hair.

Example Sentence: Tanya's trichotillomania left her with an unfortunate array of bald spots along the crown of her head. Which was quite distressing since she was to be married in two weeks and a day.

Did you know? People suffering from trichotillomania will routinely pluck hair from the scalp, eyebrows, eyelashes or other parts of the body, usually impulsively but sometimes with careful deliberation (such as by using tweezers). Some researchers believe that it may be a form of obsessive-compulsive disorder and/or may be used to release pent up frustration during periods of high stress, like during wedding planning . . . ah-hem.

Home

2008-05-01T11:33:00.001-07:00

View Larger Map

Okay, so I swear that I can spell at least on the same level, if not above that of a fourth grader. But on to happier things, yes, this beautiful place is what John and I will call home. Google maps didn't go far enough along the road to show our place but it's up that alley way. The tan stucco place that you can see on the right side is called the Spencer Apartments and since working for the Utah Heritage Foundation I've wanted to live there. John and I looked at an available apartment there and everything was in disrepair except for the nice patio that you can see. The manager of the property tried to sell us the apartment upon the premise that there was a neat little ironing board that unfolded out of the wall in the kitchen (that happened to open out on top of the current tenants dining table). We may have been turned off to the idea of renting the place because of the overestimated price for the poor quality, but I think what did it for me was knowing who was living there before me. There were three or so young men from the Ukraine living there, which is obviously not what is wrong. It was the messily torn-out photos of unproportionally enlarged and plasticy women posing on the inside of their bathroom door. The place just wasn't clean in general, and it had no charm except for the exteriors. The place next door though is just the opposite. It may possibly be the plainest of all the homes on the street but inside it is very charming, although quaint. There is a sun room as you first enter, then a living room as you turn right and another sun room to the left that we will be using as a dinning room, a kitchen, a cool bathroom, and one bedroom. It's small but just right.
We've slowly been accumulating furniture over the past few months. My parents have been so kind to give us a couch of theirs, and two really cool chairs that I'm excited to have. We've just purchased a love seat for the entry-way sun room at the DI that we are going to have reupholstered (you may view a slightly similar couch at johnya.blogspot.com). John's parents have given us some nice dining room chairs that are in the same style as our entryway love seat that require seating cushions. The only thing that I am sad about is that the owner won't allow us to remove the cheap/tacky wallpaper from the walls and repaint (I just found out only a second ago). There is also some really brown linoleum in the kitchen, which was meant to be brown but is still really ugly. Everything else looks in good condition, the new carpeting (which I would tear out if I could since it sounds like they have a hard-wood floor underneath), an awesome bathtub, and is clean. I'm excited. Send me a line and come stay at our place (Michelle . . .ahem. . . ).

Johnya

2008-04-13T17:42:00.000-07:00

http://johnya.blogspot.com/

Getting Hitched

2008-02-12T15:23:00.000-08:00

. . . and I am engaged.

2007-12-21T10:29:00.001-08:00

As usual, I don't really have any deep, stirring thoughts to express. I just wanted to say I had fun yesterday. After work, John and I watched an installation of a friend at the Masonic Temple. It was interesting . . . but more fascinating were the huge prawns they served following the ceremony! We then met with Liz, Mike, and their friends at Mikado and ate yummy-yummy sushi (mmmmm . . . saigon roll), then I painted with oils for the first time! I don't care about whether or not I have any talent for painting . . I enjoy it. Huh, I guess that's all I really felt like saying. The end.

It's out of the closet . . .

2007-12-19T13:24:00.000-08:00

I'm outing myself.

My Addiction

2007-12-18T10:34:00.000-08:00

Thanks to NPR my interests can never stay focused in one area. Whether or not this is a good thing is likely beyond my comprehension. Anyways, today on Radio West they discussed the book Millennials Rising - a book describing the attributes and future of generation Y (or Millennials) as well as the cycle of generations. I'm interested in how the cycle of revolution mentioned has affected the supposed apathy of young adults in politics. Thoughts?

On the Dian Rehm show they discussed the Edward Hopper exhibit at the Nation Gallery in D.C.. Edward Hopper is one of my favorite artists, and I guess I could expand upon why I like his work. . . but it wouldn't do justice nor would it assist what my perception of his intentions were for his artwork. I like Nighthawks for the composition. . . (I don't really know if that's how to describe what I'm trying to express . . .) but I can relate so much more to New York Movie. Totally awesome dude.

Enjoying self-loathing

2007-12-04T15:20:00.001-08:00

I just wasted the past hour on the Internet. It felt good. Ignoring responsibilities and forgetting about time is becoming a common theme in my life. It creates odd feelings inside me, it is quite nice and at the same time there is this overwhelming feeling of self-loathing that I have for myself for wasting time. I've weighed the costs and benefits and I can't come to a decision. I know what's better for me, but that part isn't that important. Suggestions?

Absurd

2007-11-16T10:03:00.000-08:00

Michelle, my lone blog reader, I'm writing in response to your entry on NPR, and I must confess that I am just as much a fan of NPR. Although today I had quite a fright. As I was listening to a panel discussion on the Diane Ream show I slowly came to the realization of whose opinion I was taking for granted - in the worst (I really dislike that word) possible way. Eleanor Clift works as a contributing editor for Newsweek and makes a weekly appearance on the "The McLaughlin Group,". I don't necessarily have a problem with her, but as I listened to the Diane Ream show I took in what I was hearing without assuming any bias on the part of the speaker. I would never do that! I think my love of NPR has blinded me to analyzing and forming a balanced view of not just the news but how I receive the news. I listen to Eleanor Clift on The McLaughlin group and it's blatantly apparent how her opinions contrast against the other participants on the panel, but on NPR this morning she sounded calm and collected and I took everything she said without a thought. Scary.

I'm loosing it and I don't even realize it. Hah, that reminds me of a book, Lost Worlds,that I was browsing through the other day about things that are lost. Of the author's list of things lost he mentions absurdities -

"What absurdities did you commit today? If you know the answer, you are probably wrong. Absurdities are like assumptions: they are the things we do not know we are making. But we can be as certain as death and taxes that we are committing absurdities and making assumptions."

I never even knew there was such a word to describe my daily plight.

My Youthful Philosophy

2007-11-02T22:22:00.000-07:00

As I listened to NPR today I heard their series on "This I Believe", and one of the excerpts they aired especially caught my attention. This 16 year old girl's words were so thoughtful and honest,

"This is my youthful philosophy, a simple, liberal and optimistic feeling, though I fear I shall lose some of it as I become more adult. Already, the thought that the traditional thinkers might be right, after all, and I wrong, has made me waver. Still, these are my beliefs at sixteen. If I am mistaken, I am too young to realize my error. Sometimes, in a moment of mental despair, I think of the words, "God loves an honest doubter," and I am comforted."

Check the rest out, they are pretty interesting, they have personal credos like this from Albert Einstein to 16 year old girls.

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=4538100

Breaking news: we stopped caring

2007-11-02T21:36:00.000-07:00

One of those songs that I never get tired of.

"The News"

Jack Johnson

A billion people died on the news tonight

But not so many cried at the terrible sight

Well mama said It's just make believe

You can't believe everything you see

So baby close your eyes to the lullabies

On the news tonight

Who's the one to decide that it would be alright

To put the music behind the news tonight

Well mama said

You can't believe everything you hear

The diagetic world is so unclear

So baby close your ears

On the news tonight

The unobtrusive tones on the news tonight

And mama said

Why don't the newscasters cry when they read about people who die?

At least they could be decent enough to put just a tear in their eyes

Mama said It's just make believe

You cant believe everything you see

So baby close your eyes to the lullabies

On the news tonight

Like taking candy from a baby

2007-10-31T18:35:00.000-07:00

All Hallows Eve is now upon us, and as my day has been filled with 80's prom queens and colorfully caked makeup walking by, I contemplate the years past. I've been especially reminiscent since my busy schedule has prevented me from participating, even slightly, in any Halloween festivities.

The earliest documentation of my Halloween participation was of me at the Millo's home, dressed similar to my nature, like a little devil. I looked grumpy, most likely from being paraded house to house throughout the valley by my parents. Little did I know that candy was soon to come, I'm sure my entire perception of Halloween changed after that.

From ages 5 to around 10 I took full advantage of my cuteness factor, well . . . more like my parents did. I became the black cat or witch of the neighborhood once every year - and subsequently cleaned out two neighborhoods of their candy supplies. My parents, I suspect, had a strategy. My Mother tailor-made costumes that were always extremely fluffy or rotund in some way. My Father made sure to wait until after at least 8 to take me trick-or-treating. Most parents would think, "why let my child stay out so late". My Father is a smart man (and loves candy too much). By the time we got to our neighbor's homes there had been a substantial pause in the flow of trick-or-treaters, and they thus assumed that there were none left but me. So I basically got not just one treat but all remaining candy they had. And if I happened upon a household that had a depleted candy supply, the Mother of the household would always rush into the recesses of her kitchen and bring out her off-diet season candy bars. And if it was the Dad caught off guard, he would come back with all sorts of goodies. I even remember a few years where my Dad and I would stop back off at home to enter my candy pot and my backup pillowcase full of candy! Haha, that's almost shameful. I love my parents. :)

In the sixth grade I vividly remember my clown costume and it's horrible effects. But I'll save that one for another time.

Lastly, I recall Nick Callisto and Halloween at 13. Nick Callisto was the class clown in grade school, had an amazingly strong arm in jr. high, and was always rightly tanned and slightly stoned in high school. I happened across him at the Farmer's Market where I learned that, now in his twenties, he plans to move to Oregon to live a completely organic life. In 1998 I was on my way home from trick-or-treating with my friend Valerie as Nick came up to me, remarked on my costume, and snatched my pillowcase full of candy away from me. Little did he know the ferocity that lays beneath this calm brooklet. Before his arm could fully retract with my pillowcase I had snatched it back with the reflexes of a cat! Hah! Oh, but I did not stop there, no. In the heat of the moment my quickness to protect what was mine was as fast as my instinct to serve justice to the wicked. I took a firm grip on the pillowcase and proceeded to whop him on his shoulder and head. I only got in two blows before he started to shriek that he was only kidding and that he was sorry for trying to steal my candy from me. Hah! Definitely not like stealing candy from a baby sucker! I'm proud to say that as of that point in my life that was the last of my physical fights. The first I won through cunning, and the last through my quick physical reflexes! Victory is mine!

Thus is my Halloween history. I look forward to many more, hopefully with the opportunity to actually enjoy them and also, in the very far future, for the opportunity to exploit my own children's cuteness factor for the sake of my two year candy storage.

Three, two, . . . make that two, one

2007-10-30T20:57:00.002-07:00

I have one purpose in mind for writing this blog entry, and two minor disturbances that I need to somehow release.

Disturbance one: there are multiple people that owe me money for my work, three to be exact. And I don't know if I'll ever really be compensated for my time and energy. I've communicated with two of these people and I've received false hope each time. I like these two people, in fact I like all three, but have decided to only bother them once every other week. The third doesn't even know that they owe me money . . . at least I assume so since I don't have any convenient way of contacting this person. I substituted a class for her months ago and she never called to mail me a check. I feel as if I can't call since it has been months or because some people don't hold such long memories when they are at fault. Plus she is incredibly sweet, and I don't feel like the money she owes me is worth subjugating the validity of my credibility.

Disturbance two: I don't want to write my literature review, read court cases or brief cases so that I can be prepared for my professor to call and scrutinize upon me (which he will and does do to every student . .. ."because he respects us").

Main purpose: will come in another blog entry . . . I'm too tired.

Foaming crazy!

2007-10-25T08:10:00.000-07:00

If you are looking for the perfect companion look no further. All I know is that I can't stop thinking about it, when I'm at work I think about how I want to spend more time with it, and at school I wish I had it with me. If you haven't tried a foam roller I strongly urge you to do so. I'm sure it is used by many different people, but I was introduced to this beautiful thing by the dance world. I know dancers that carry one with them everywhere, and it's not the most conspicuous object. I'm just crazy about it! You roll on it to lengthen and massage out any knots. It hurts because it works on your deep tissue but it's worth it. Now, if only it would hold my hand and occasionally see a movie with me. Hah.

Office groove

2007-10-20T18:45:00.000-07:00

It is official - I have thoroughly rocked out in my office tonight. Thank goodness my coworkers aren't here to see me do my old school popping to MJ.

Pink Panther? Orange Crush2640? Jalopy4!? BAH!

2007-10-15T14:58:00.001-07:00

There is something seriously wrong with me . . . and I can't tell what it is - all I know is that there are manifestations of this . . . this defect. I not only have forgotten my password for free printing in the Education computer lab, I have now realized that I have forgotten my U id (plus what it is called Unid, Uid, there's some kind of 'nuh' sound in there), my MySpace password, and who knows what else. Jeez! I need to access the article database and WebCT for a mid-term exam I have on Wednesday. I need to do all the reading now! Blah.

Mouth-watering goodness

2007-10-12T14:53:00.000-07:00

Above you see two of my favorite desserts - creme brulee (I still like jello though ;)) and dan tat. I think it's great how similar they are. They are both custards, except the first is french and the other is Cantonese. Sadly, since I have the capacity to be an incredibly picky person, I no longer buy or enjoy these desserts as much as I would like to since I only like to buy these mouth watering desserts from where they make them best.

There is a chef, that I think still lives in Utah, his name is Charles and he makes a maddening key lime creme brulee - not tart at all, not too sweet, and definitely not eggy. He used to be the head chef and restaurant manager (et cetera) of a restaurant called 3rd West Bistro. If anyone knows where this man is working, please let me know . . . I am not kidding.

As for dan tat, plenty of Dim Sum places here make the dessert. Except it tastes awful. It's awful to admit, but an American company started right here in Utah makes a Cantonese dessert the best - KFC. But don't go rush over to your local KFC because you wont' find these there. You can, however, take a plane ride to China or Hong Kong and enter a KFC there (easily located near train stations) - it's definitely worth it. They even come in packages of 6 - which can't be good for cholesterol levels! I don't know what they do, or who exactly makes them, but they make a dan tat that can warm you from the inside out. Yum!

Okay. I swear this will be my last entry about food. But I can't help it if I like to eat. I like to eat so much that I think about what I'm going to eat the next day (eggplant Parmesan-yummmmmmmm)!

Warning!

2007-09-28T16:56:00.000-07:00

Okay, a word of warning, I'm going to get a little graphic with . . .well I'm hoping you can draw a conclusion by just looking at the photo I've posted.

Let me start off with taking the first step in admitting that I am addicted, but you would be to if you tried them. It's funny how addictions work (flaxen cord and all). At my family camp out Michelle gave me a bite (my first fix as I like to think of it) and I didn't think much about it, other than 'hmm, tasty'. But so are all chocolate granola bars. Three months later, convenience brought me to buy these bars. I usually go for power bars or cliff bars to snack on after a dance class, but I had a coupon and they were conveniently in the Wal-Mart isle I was on. But I guess I'm not the only sucker for these bars. I googled Fiber One and the first link I clicked on had at least twenty people commenting on how much they love these bars. I had to vehemently agree and nod my head at the computer when I read a girl commenting that these bars are her new form of crack. Not that crack was ever my first form of crack - but still. And about ten of those twenty had the similar discomforting results and yet continue to subject their systems to such tasty torture. Let's just say that I didn't even really know much about fiber, nor about adding fiber slowly to your diet. I thought fiber was something that only old people had to worry about eating, like prunes (which I love as well). I still don't quite know why I need it, especially if my body seems to reject it when I gord it (hah). Let me just say that I messed with a perfect system - my digestive system was happy with what I was putting through it before Fiber One came along. But, I guess it's not as perfect as I thought. Even the wrapper of the Fiber One bar helps me presume that I need to add fiber to my diet. So, they either have an amazing marketing department, or my Mother is right - that I don't eat well or nutritious enough. I guess the trick is adding fiber slowly to my diet, but the only way I now want to add fiber is through Fiber One - and adding slowly isn't an option when people like me have no self-control with tasty, yummy, deliciousie -o-so treats.

So I suggest Fiber One with caution and moderation, unless you like to come close to explosion and literally see your abdomen bubble and jerk precariously every few seconds.

Modern experience

2007-09-25T05:37:00.000-07:00

So I've decided to introduce you to a few of my classes, with the help of visual aids of course. Deciding to participate in the Modern program was random if anything, but I've really enjoyed my experience thus far. I have never been exposed to the Modern dance vocabulary of movement, and although it may be related to other dance forms, it takes on a life completely of its own.

Kpanlogo (ceremonial drum)Ghana's most well-known drum has been used since 1962 in festivals, funerals and naming ceremonies. Today it is a popular instrument used in many styles of music, and can be found around the world in African dance bands.

I must say that I am loving my West African class! We are currently learning about Kpanlogo. We get to use instruments that I've never seen before, we learned a call/song, and a Kpanlogo beat. The dancing is the best part even if it's exhausting! All I can say is that I now know the reason why so many great sprinters, long distance runners, . . . . just great runners in general are from the African continent - because of their cultural dances! You have to have stamina to continuously do the kind of dance they do! Our professor decided to have us try dancing for 45 minutes without a break - yikes! Let me just say that I've never had sweaty elbows before. A class mate joked that the reason for our professor's extremely fit body is because she shakes all the fat off dancing!

Next is a class that I have five days a week. I'm amazed to find new ways to move and dance. And they aren't necessarily odd ways of dancing either. I recall talking to a former Modern major who mocked the department for telling dancers to find their 'inner tree'. I have yet to be told to find anything close to a tree or anything 'inner'. I haven't encountered mystics in the department yet, but I have been taught to experiment with weight and contact. Finding new ways to throw my weight, let my weight fall, et cetera - all in a choreographed manner is interesting to me! So it may not be a mystical class, but some have called it the ninja class (refer to the picture below)

because he choreographs all these stunts. He uses a lot of ice skating references like that Asian skater that never ever won (so sad) and Brian Boytano (down below)

.

But when I am in his class working out his choreography I feel . . . (in no way degradingly, honestly) like an ape barreling through the jungle. It may be the live drumming that adds to this thought process, but it's partially the movement too. I really do like the classes I've had, especially since each professor's style is truly unique. I thought I'd leave you with a photo of a modern dancer - I just couldn't leave Brian Boitano or apes as the last image recounted.

Quiz time!

2007-09-14T20:18:00.000-07:00

Okay I admit I like to take silly quizes. No, I don't need a quiz to tell me my personality. But yes, it still is fun to do.
Hee-hee!

I took the "the temperment type" quiz on gURL.com
		I am... phlegmatic According to Galen's ancient theory of temperaments, people with phlegmatic temperaments seek peace and resolution in their everyday lives. Sympathetic, kind and adaptable to different situations, they often act as mediators in conflicts... Read more... What's your temperment?

Hmmm, interesting . . .

I took the "Chinese Elements" quiz on gURL.com
		I am... Wood The ancient Yin-Yang scholars saw wood types as true nature lovers--could you happily do without a TV? Wood people are generally very driven, eager to be the best at whatever they do. They just need to remember not to get too frustrated if things don't turn out exactly as planned... Read more... What chinese element are you?

Okay, so I've timed these quizes and they take me about 2-5 minutes. So I'm not wasting that much time . . . right?

This is weird, because (not to be all superstisious but . . .)I was born a wood sign. And it's pretty close . . .

I'm lovin' my love handles

2007-09-14T19:02:00.000-07:00

So, it seems that each day I can't seem avoid a comment about how my schedule is 'crazy' - but never at my mention of it, only of their own accord do they bring it up. Of course it all comes from a good place (the heart)and very well meaning individuals, but as i like to remind a few of these people - I wouldn't do it unless I liked it. I'm grateful to have caring people in my life. And I write now to remind them and myself that my life isn't completely devoid of social activity or entertainment. I mean, I'm sitting here at work on a Friday night (after clocking out of course)interacting (forgetting the predicament of time and space) with you the reader! I also am able to expose myself to mainstream media for entertainment purposes. As I travel to work and to school . . . then to my other work, and again back to school - I find time to listen to the radio. It seems that I have a prejudice for radio stations with the numbers '1' or '9' in them - I therefore listen to 101.9 for my 'really stupid news' and 90.1 for my not so stupid news. And it seems that I can't avoid the subject of Britney Spear's performance for the VMJ awards. If you do not know what the VMJs are, no worries, I probably wouldn't either if I hadn't attended a party thrown in respect for the award show back in the 9th grade. VMJ is an award show for musicians on MTV - a station (or I guess stations) that I have only had the pleasure of watching a few times at my Grandma's house (that Daria is sooo wittily dry - jeez, I don't know if they even still have that show).

Hahaha, okay, we need to pause. I just realized that the show is called the VMAs, not the VMJs. I guess I'm not very good with pop culture. Which might surprise some since I use pop culture references to explain personality traits. Like when referring to someone that is on crack, too thin, in jail, drinks too much, or is kinda skanky as a 'Paris Hilton' (I feel kinda bad about using such a reference . . . but it's true!). Although, I have to thank my t.v. / tabloid watching co-workers for my pop-culture knowledge.

So moving on to my point (from long long ago), I continue to encounter the Britney Spears 'debacle'. As I was waiting to pay at Smith's today I sheepishly glanced at the tabloid covers flashing Britney's 'overweight' body. I finally looked into it tonight online (in privacy - haha, I'm almost ashamed of my interest in the subject) and I must say her performance was definitely . . . saddening. Yet, I don't understand the whole 'overweight' thing. I found a review online that, I think, describes perfectly with what is wrong with body images that are being enforced today. Britney may not be in top physical condition, but give the girl a break! It's not like she's so fat she can't touch her right hand to her left.

Check it out . . .

http://www.news.com.au/story/0,23599,22422037-5007146,00.html

Check it out!

2007-09-07T05:54:00.000-07:00

Alrighty then, it's confession time. One of my dirty little secrets is that I enjoy the occasional fashion magazine. About every six months I invest in Glamour magazine - and unabashedly devour the material in too short of a time frame. Immediately after reading the magazine, I purge myself by immediately thinking self-affirming thoughts to counter it's affects. Remember, this is a 'judge-free zone'(haha, I will never forget that line; tales of my one-date-wonders coming soon to a blog near you).

Yet in my defense, Glamour magazine usually puts out a mean article on humanitarian issues. Interesting and important issues too. Check out the link below. It's pretty graphic, but I still suggest you read it. I understand avoiding violent entertainment that desensitizes - but this is real, and hopefully it will bring awareness rather than blind you to reality. I hope you will think as I thought, 'how can I NOT do something to help'!

Check it out (haha, just ignore that the tag says 'real life drama').

http://www.glamour.com/news/articles/2007/08/reallifedrama

My Best Friend

2007-08-21T20:06:00.000-07:00

My Best Friend made me cry today. She left today for Germany to attend Graduate School and I already miss her. You need to know she isn't your average best friend either, she is one of those Best Friends, my Best Friend. It's not one of those friendships that lasts a few years then fizzles out - even if I've only really known her for five years ;). She's helped me more than any other person. She's excited to explore and learn new things. I'm excited for her too. I can't wait to explore too.

My priorities are all out of sorts

2007-08-15T06:56:00.000-07:00

Okay, so I completely hesitate to write this entry at all, but my level of frustration is high enough that I feel excused (even if I'm really not). I am having difficulty with a . . . person. When I talk with this person everything I say is met with sarcasm. Which might be a result of low self-esteem . . . who knows what. So when this person tells me things about them self that unnecessarily lowers their self-worth I positively reinforce this person with a compliment(and honestly too) - and yet I'm still met with a rude or snippy comment - and at least a, 'whatever' or a irritatingly overemphasized 'uh-HUH'. So I decided it best not to always talk to this person, or to minimize my conversation with them by avoiding certain topics or just by not commenting at all. I thought, just listening will make conversation move along more smoothly - but no! This person then assumes that I am moody because I am not talking as much and starts to give me a difficult time. Even if I say I'm not moody this person won't believe me. This person then assumes that I don't like them because I'm not as chatty and then acts out even more rudely towards me. It's a viscous cycle! There isn't anything that I can do. I know that this person talks to other people about how I am 'moody'. This person sometimes starts conversations with disingenuous intentions. And, this person gives away my food while I'm gone to other people while telling them that by offering them food I'm always trying to 'shove food down their mouth' (this was told to me by the recipient of the food). BAH! I really do like this person when they aren't acting like this, which seems to be more and more rare. I'm at a loss to make things better. I should have sympathy because I know that I used to have difficulty with being overly-sarcastic. Gah!

I feel as if I should write about all the great things that have occurred lately, but this took priority even if it shouldn't. Next to come, Costa Rica and an overdue tribute to Michelle.

Momentary Hatreds are Always My Strongest

2007-06-22T10:40:00.001-07:00

I'm convinced that grooming was never meant to be something desired and somehow advertisers have twisted the heinous and time consuming actions of grooming into something seemingly necessary. Grooming should be a luxury for pete’s sake! Kings used to have professional groomers, (kind of like dogs) they never really groomed themselves. The rest of the common folk had never even heard of showering, let alone the idea of grooming. But they lived fine lives I’m sure. Of course they didn’t live as long, but they enjoyed themselves while it lasted. But all in all, I blame the capitalist state. Those greedy businessmen are placing the act of grooming at the top of the social hierarchy by bombarding us with ads just so they can make a buck. Well, I shout ‘la revolution’! Let us all go to the dogs, and I mean that in the best sense possible. The only reason that I truly shower is so that I can cool down by having wet hair in the heat – remember not to meet with me in person when winter comes round . . . hint hint.

Grooming can be a second job, or fourth. Who has the time to waste primping and priming if you have a real life? By the time I hit the shower I’m exhausted and would rather smell and let my teeth rot out rather than spend time showering and preparing myself for bed. Another reason why grooming is heinous and especially time consuming is the fact that grooming is an all or nothing event. You can’t just stop brushing your teeth with your mouth half full of foam! You have to go all the way.

I’ve tried to cut time for showering by simplifying things. Instead of shampooing and conditioning separately – I go for the two in one deal. Why would anyone want to use, and buy, two separate things when it can be accomplished in one?! Imagine the time wasted by those that shampoo then rinse, and then condition and then rinse again! What is even more absurd is that the bottle’s instructions suggest that you rinse and REPEAT!! Who repeats?!?! Those greedy capitalists. Another great technique to cut shower time is to soap yourself at the top and let it drizzle down to your toes – it counts as washing if the soap makes any contact with your skin at all. Don’t waste time scrubbing each and every nook and cranny on your body (except you can’t ignore the belly-button, that’s just gross).

I don’t hate the actual act of grooming – it’s just that I’d rather be sleeping than brushing my teeth. And yes I do feel dirty and gross if I don’t shower or groom, but sleep has increased in importance over the past couple of months now that my plate is so full. I think that the perfect gift would be that invention I saw featured in Time magazine a couple of years ago. This marvelous contraption basically cleaned you as you lay down! It also acted doubly as a massager! I could sleep, be massaged, and wake up feeling clean! Jay Leno would add the line “who could be so lazy” at the end of a punch-line. And I would have to stand up, salute, and yell – me! But I’m sure such a thing is only available to the kings of the capitalist world, or to dogs.

Heavy Metal

2007-06-01T14:28:00.001-07:00

I think my tastes have started to merge with those of the general population because I can relate more to common circumstances. I've started to not hate screaming thrashing music - and it frightens me. What inside of me is so upset and unbalanced that heavy metal would be somewhat appealing . . . . even soothing? I think I have an inkling of what may be upsetting my inner most being. People do it every day, and yet I can't handle it, I'm a wimp. It's called an office job. And I don't know how people can handle it. Help!

Guest Appearance and Comments

2007-05-23T18:21:00.000-07:00

And now, a guest appearance from my best friend, Michelle:

"What do you want me to write? Oh, are you typing this? Okay, um, tell them to read my blog, because Google Analytics makes me crazy for readers! (Click here.)"

Back to me:

I now have comments enabled. YAY!

"Everything's funny as long as it's happening to someone else." -Will Rogers

It's alive!

2007-05-23T17:32:00.001-07:00

When I am at work my mind goes to a special place. And once I leave I become a totally different person. It's as if I'm alive again.

Lacking in literary genius

2007-05-22T10:14:00.000-07:00

I begin a lot of posts with "well" "so" and "um". I need a larger vocabulary.

Rodimiro

2007-05-22T09:53:00.000-07:00

Well, it may be about time for me to update my blog. Not because so much has happened in my life that I need to update, but because the masses are screaming for more literary genius. Hah. . . yeah. Actually, the only person ever checking my blog is my best friend. I'm sure my Grandma Allen would check as well if she has ready access to a computer. My Dad may check as well. . .to see if I'm not getting myself into any trouble. Don't worry Dad my trouble only goes as far as parking tickets. But then again, I doubt he's even checking this too.

So, I guess it's nice to know that I know every one that reads my blog. I feel safe. I feel like I can divulge anything in my corner of the world wide web. And yet I still hesitate to use names and direct experiences in blog entries because I don't want to overstep any one's privacy. So I will tell you a few random thoughts I had between 8 am and 10 am today.

1. Rodimiro is a great name for a novel. I work with plenty of plenty information and come across many ingenious names that I would never have the creativity to come up with on my own. Now I just need the literary genius and technique to write the novel along with the name.

2. While listening to some of the great love songs I thought that it would really suck to break up with someone and be so heartbroken that I couldn't enjoy such vocal sweetness. Why would anyone ever want to fall in love and risk so much ;)?

2a. I should write a love novel with Rodimiro as the Hero. Grrrrr.

3. Time flies while I'm at work, which is good and bad. It's good that I'm so involved with my work that I don't concentrate on the time, but then it's bad because this job doesn't necessarily fit into my goals . . . an in some ways is a HUGE waste of my time. Then again, it's not.

4. The office finale was disturbing. Although it was hilarious that the temp opened up a word document for Vincent to blog his thoughts. Maybe my thoughts are sane enough for the Internet too.

5. I really don't have that many thoughts.

6. I think the blog ends when the extent of my thoughts have ended.

Twinkies versus the Ding Dangs

2007-04-30T14:07:00.000-07:00

Well, it's finals week. Which means twenty-one hour days and scheduling my studying time down to the last minute. Surprisingly I met my goal yesterday evening to write three pages per hour in order to write fifteen pages total in five hours. I don't remember the calculations, but I figured how many words I would need to type per minute in order to meet my quota on my drive home from the library. Three pages may not seem like a lot, but when you have to peruse through four books, articles, and loads of information gathered in the previous two hours on the internet-streamlining information and writing is not so easy. Especially when you don't know anything about the complicated topic. And sounding like you've studied for the past couple of months on a topic is not so easy when you start only a few days before it's due. I'm awful for procrastinating. But there isn't much I can do about that now.
I always resolve to do all my readings and start early on any papers or projects at the beginning of a semester. The few times I have actually kept on track have paid off immensely in the end. Especially for classes during the following semester. Using notes from past classes and information from past exams help so much.
I guess there is more to my life right now than just finals, but elaborating seems too laborious. In short, I got in a car accident, the Contemporary Movement made its fundraising goal for the Utah Food Bank, I am now employed at Cardon Healthcare, I was offered another teaching position during the summer, I rejected the position to dance for stiletto entertainment, and my sweet cousin was diagnosed with MS. Other than that not much else is going on. Except I have been to numerous wedding, bridal, bridesmaid showers. And will soon fill my time with wedding receptions. I'm simply ecstatic for the small talk, tacky decorations, awkward reunions, little eclairs, chocolate fountains, and sandwich roles that await me.
Thinking about wedding receptions can only bring to mind the horror of protocol for acquaintance reunions. And I feel that for the sake of humanity and my entertainment purposes I should present a different answer each time I am asked "what are you doing with your life now?" Each answer superceding the previous one in absurdity. I would start out with "I'm graduating from the University of Utah soon." Then I would attach the small detail that my major is a B.S. in dessert forensics (i.e. where people are murdered with tasty and sugary delights after the main course is finished). I would then go on to tell people that I went through a harsh application process but have finally secured a position (including a 401k) with Hostess. Which may seem odd because they are the ones creating the weapons of murder. But I would be doing defense forensic research on behalf of Hostess and find specifics to prove that Twinkies are not viable weapons when compared with ding dongs - making sure to educate my acquaintance that ding dongs are no longer a branch of Hostess and have broken away from the Hostess family and created their own separate business entity now called the ding dangs. And the presence of such strong animosity between the two companies requires that hostess hire someone to defend the Twinkies. Of course my explanations would only continue to be more elaborate, and the disbelief of my listeners would only increase - to my entertainment. Then again I'm sometimes too lazy to be so self-deprecating, it was a nice thought though.

banana peppers

2007-04-25T14:52:00.000-07:00

Hmmm, I guess it's about time to update. I think the most important thing to mention is that I spilled a gargantuan jar of banana peppers in the backseat of my car. And almost three weeks later the sour scent still remains. My backpack smells like banana peppers, my hair smells like banana peppers, basically anything left in my car for more than an hour.

So you think you've filled your quota?

2007-04-11T12:13:00.000-07:00

So you think you have had enough bad days to fill your quota for the year. I thought I had, but I was sorely mistaken. Now, I'm not partial towards any particular day but if I had to be I would choose Monday as my favorite day. Why you say? Well, it may be that I don't work the regular work week, but my week of school still begins again on Monday. I like Monday not because of the absence of things like a regular work week but because I like the feeling that a whole week without anything in it yet is before more. It's like what Anne said (I'm not mentioning full names for the sake of dignity and if you know who Anne is then we are truly kindred spirits . . . hahaha) about every day is new without any mistakes in it . . . yet. That is how I feel about Mondays . . .. a fresh start. But sadly this past Monday started out awfully. And I can't go into details yet because of class. To be continued.

Short hair = lesbian feminist

2007-04-02T14:50:00.000-07:00

I wasn't going to write this but, . . . men are apes. I'm awful for writing it, I know. . . . the truth hurts. I've witnessed numerous events that have only encouraged me continue this thought process. Let me start off with the obvious, the superficies. They are hairy, their arms are hairy, their legs are a jungle of hair, their backs have hair that could catch flies, and hair grows in places where hair should never grow. Men are not pretty, nor are the aesthetically appealing. Sure they can be masculine, but most men do not understand the true notions of masculinity and their misinterpretation of masculinity result in poor attempts like belching loudly (and disgustingly), stinking (although I'm sure most of them can't help it), talking loudly, pulling brainless stunts, et cetera. I always recall numerous institute activities where the my curiosity has only led to horrific memories. The first time it was a group of boys feeding rats to snakes in the middle of a parking lot on a Friday evening and the second was eating live goldfish out of a kiddie pool. What apes. And when I say that I don't mean that they are progressing along the Darwinian evolutionary line, they are just staying in their primitive state.

I guess all this sarcasm is spurred by my recent frustrations. When I try to be friendly to certain boys, for the sake of being friendly they act, for the lack of a better phrase, so friggin' weird. Is it really that difficult to speak to me. Maybe, but even so wouldn't some civility do us all well? Then there are those that give me the ickies no matter what I try to do to like them platonically. The other day I saw a guy smack another guys chest with his fists, not in retaliation or even in play fighting, but in greeting. He then shook his fists on the guys chest when he was asking him a question. All I could envision at that moment were apes jumping around beating one another's chests and screeching inaudible grunts. Blech. They look like apes, the act like apes, and as far as I can tell their brains can only process ideas of social relations very simplistically. I know these are all huge generalizations. But so what, guys ask me if I'm a feminist for having short hair. Um, excuse me? What kind of feminist do you speak of? Yes there are more than the lesbian type. And yes they have a deep and complex history. And yes the first feminist meetings were held in Utah under the LDS relief society. And yes feminists are about equal rights for women. Do you not like equal rights for women? Do you not respect us. Yes the LDS church preached equal rights and respect for women, do you not? Blech.

I think I ought to stop. :)

2007-03-30T10:55:00.000-07:00

Fine, I'll take down the pictures. I was informed by a viewer that my photos were scaring her (or him).

Moving on, this entire week has been stressed filled and yesterday evening I temporarily gave up. I turned off my phone, laid down, ate chocolate, watched t.v., and fed my addiction to spider solitaire. I woke up this morning feeling much better than I did the previous evening. Don't you love it when you wake up feeling great after having horrible feelings the night before?! The sad thing is that it's only noon and I want to go to bed again so that I can wake up again to feel better.

When I turned on my phone this morning I had five new messages about work and the upcoming concert. I have so many deadlines! I checked my phone fifteen minutes later and I had another message. And after I got out of class I had another message. Kill me. I've never liked having a cell phone and that was when I barely used it!

Other things that have thoroughly frustrated me this week keep on coming back to haunt me. I received an email that was not meant to be sent to me, but was conveniently about me. And it didn't contain nice things. I was called a loser, yada yada yada. I emailed the person back explaining that my intentions and actions were completely misinterpreted. And the passive-aggressive response I got told me that she really didn't want to understand my situation and all she wanted to do is tell me what she had already written rudely in the email (not supposed to be sent to me) but with 'nice' words about why she felt the way she did (and seems to still feel) and to give me excuses not for being rude but for me happening to read it. I felt I did nothing to provoke her anger. I couldn't control the situations that prevented me from being where she wanted me to be. And when the circumstances changed I let her know that I could be there if she wanted me to, not expecting anything. BLAH! I used to feel I could trust this person, but reading that email has revealed an entirely new person to me. One that I could never expect to exist within her. There is a difference between venting and catty malicious talk.

On the other hand I feel like I need to move on. I won't mention anything more to her about it - she won't really listen anyways. The email I sent her was not rude, but told her that I would still be there for her if she needed me to be. And I will be. I just want this bad feeling to go away.

The show is coming up and I've had so many flaky dancers I now understand why companies rely upon word of mouth to hire people. I'm so stressed. I shouldn't waste my time writing about my stress, I should just go. Okay, bye bye!

My flour advertisement

2007-03-08T16:39:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I have had yet another change of mind concerning taking this job. Sort of, I guess I should say that I am once again in the depths of indecision . . . sort of. Now that I know the bad along with the good I don't know if the good is what I really want. I don't know if I want the entire experience at all any longer. I just watched Anne of Green Gables and I can't help but make the comparison between Diana Berry publishing Anne's 'Averil's Atonement' for the flour company with my taking a job dancing for a cruise line. Dancing for a cruise line has hardly been a dream of mine. I thought of it before because it would offer the chance to travel. But I would not take the job to progress as a dancer. Dance performances on cruise lines are not known for being artistically challenging, unless meant on a scale of cheesiness. I'm assuming that the director told me that I would do ballet partnering to convince me that the dancing was something other than Broadway cheese. On the bright side I would be paid to dance, but I've come to the conclusion that I can find other places to pay me to dance. I still think I might go, but I'm torn because it isn't great by any means. I used to want to leave Utah and live elsewhere, but the more I consider being away from family for so long the less attractive such ideas sound. I guess I will go, I will continue to take jobs away from Utah but I will always come back. And I'm happy to know that.

Important update

2007-03-07T12:17:00.000-08:00

On Monday after my last class I went back to the vending machine. The chips were gone, but I had more money on my Ucard. So I bought another bag of chips and once again they got stuck. I am happy to announce that I shook the vending machine vigorously, and successfully loosened then retrieved my potato chips without encountering death or crushing. I was elated, even if there were a few odd stares thrown my way as I was visibly and audibly expressing my excitement that I conquered my vending machine fear. HAH! Next is the world!

P.S. I also emailed the director to tell her I would take the job because if I could conquer my vending machine fears, I could conquer my fear to take this job (although I didn't mention that to her). It also helped that Minnie told me that contracts really aren't all that binding.

Vending machines . . . life decisions.

2007-03-05T13:56:00.002-08:00

Two random events have occurred in that past couple of hours that I feel must be recognized. First, as I was in my political thought class a guy passed buy the room and shortly looked for something as another student was entering. Fifteen minutes later he walked by, looking from the corner of his eye and looking all frontal like an Egyptian hieroglyph. Then, just as he was about to vanish from sight he lifted up a digital camera to the bottom left corner of the door window and snapped a picture. Weird. Second, I had just enough money left on my Ucard to buy potato chips at the vending machine for lunch and (just my luck) they got stuck. I hit the machine a few times and considered shaking it but concluded my safety ensured by leaving the chips for the next lucky person who would buy the pretzels above it. Sadly, I came to such a generous conclusion from a statistic I heard about people shaking vending machines and dying as a result of it falling and crushing. This reaction of mine has led me to think about my reaction to life in general. If anyone spoke to my parents about being stubborn and immediacy in life decisions they would automatically point to me. I'm not reckless, but I might as well be for all the risky decisions that I make. All the spontaneous things (considered so by close family, and not maybe everyone else) I've done have all resulted well and never did I once consider not making the decision I made.
On Thursday I was offered a position to dance for Norwegian cruise lines (pointe partnering) that will travel to Mexico, Hawaii, and Alaska. I was shocked, then excited, and had close to no doubts. And I stayed that way for the following three days. Now that I've had more time, I actually feel some kind of fear. I've decided that I can't make a decision based upon fear. And that my cost benefit analysis of the situation helps me come to the conclusion that it will be overall beneficial. Do I need to go, no. Will staying in Utah be just as beneficial, comparatively. But I feel like I should go for reasons different than I had at the beginning. I should go to live on my own, to be away for sixth months, to grow, to travel, and to learn how to be somewhat independent. I don't want to go because I don't want to leave my family, I don't want anything to happen to my family while I am gone, I don't know the actual reality of dancing on a cruise ship, I don't know all the unknowns, and (sadly) because I don't feel that it is the most prestigious dancing job. From what I know the pay is very competitive, there are no additional duties, I'm allowed to travel, and the choreography for Stiletto entertainment is supposedly top rated. What I know I already don't like about the conditions are that I would have to live with a roommate and most likely the rooms are probably not world class. Overall, I've concluded that I should take the chance and not base my decisions on fear and what could happen while I am gone. And nor should I make decisions to not get my chips based upon my fear created by a statistic. I can't live life by not taking opportunities, by staying where I am when nothing else seems potent (and when I have nothing else to eat and no more money) for future plans. When I return after six months I will spend the holidays with my family then take two classes and graduate. And right now I'm going to go back upstairs to see if those chips are still there (or put more money on my Ucard). Life will go on after graduation to whatever I would have done if I had not chosen to take this job (I feel). I just hope this is the best decision to make.

Insensitive directors, elves, and alternate personalities . . . I feel woozy

2007-02-26T16:58:00.000-08:00

Wow, so I think I have great news. Yet I'm so completely in shock that I can't believe .. . this awesome news. I keep on saying that it must be a mistake, a mean little elf must have played a trick on me, I have an alternate personality (accessing a different part of my brain that I'm not allowed into) that created such results, I'm in a Truman show type world where directors are tinkering with my emotions, and so on.
In all honesty, I'm completely convinced it is not true. And come to think of it, I probably shouldn't write about it publicly. But for the sake of feeling good after completely bombing another exam I write on. It may not seem like a big deal to most people. . . dang he made a mistake. Okay, sorry, getting to the point. My professor for my PS 5420 class (the class I just came from) is my professor in my 5800 class. And as I left he told me that I got the class high in the PS 5800 class! It was only a 90, but it was the class high. He couldn't find the exam in his briefcase, so I'm very reluctant to believe him. I want proof. It would make me sick to realize that it wasn't my exam, in fact I'm already feeling woozy. I had complained to my Mom and Michelle that I had began writing the wrong essay and wasted 10 of the 25 minute allotted to writing the essay. I felt like the information I wrote did not suffice in explaining the theories. I also felt like I didn't make any kind of an argument, let alone a strong arugment. There is no way that is my exam. I'm almost tempted to justify my doubts in that he was not feeling well due to heart illnesses. He must be delirious. I like his class, and I don't mean to insult him. It's the only explanation as far as I can tell. Or he has a really odd criteria for grading. How rude for him to tell me that and not give me the actual proof. Now I have to worry until Wednesday. Bah.
Well, that's my story, and I now feel ill. The end.

Bar fight = ouchies

2007-02-23T11:03:00.000-08:00

So as usual, I have amazing and inspiring thoughts throughout the day. Then I get on the Internet to log a web entry and those great thoughts frolic away. Thoughts shouldn't be so fleeting for numerous reasons. Okay, I'm just playing, because really, I don't think much throughout the day. And sadly my thoughts kept on coming back to the fact that I look slightly abused. Haha. Yesterday I played church basketball and boy did I get myself beaten up. I would love to say that there were young house wives with lots of suppressed aggression that were taking out their anger on me, the poor single-ite. But no. I'd even be less embarrassed if the reason was because I played some really hard ball and things just got out of control. That's also a, but no. I'd even settle for saying that things were out of my control and accidents happen. Hah. No, last night was humorously filled with me jumping and crashing into walls and ramming my eye into Michelle's surprisingly sharp but expectantly aggressive fingers, amongst the most horrible of things. On the bright side my spine may have realigned from past damage because I've never heard my vertebrae crack so many times. Don't go to the chiropractor, just slam the right side of your body against a brick wall. Of course you may not be able to sleep on your hip and your neck may hurt if turned to the left, but you'll be aligned. I don't know if I'm exaggerating but my professor took more than a few glances at the fields of (oh geez, I can't recall the word I'm looking for so excuse my five year old babble . . .) 'ouchies' on my right arm, the chunk of flesh taken from my right cheek, and the increasingly enlarged pool of blood in my right eyeball. Then again maybe his eyes are bad, and I'm taking some creative liberty.
So, I attempted to focus but kept on returning to thoughts of how uncomfortable I was. I wonder that if my professor cared enough to ponder why I had those 'ouchies' concluded that they were from my being abused, in a bar fight, or playing a sport? Cause' I certainly do not look like the basketball playing type. And I'm not! Hah, when I was unexpectedly passed the ball and had no other option but to dribble doun court I said "Well, here I go".
Yesterday was frustrating, not because of the basketball game, but because of the ballet class before. I desperately need to take technique classes more often! I had to stop once we got to petite allegro because my calves were shooting pain. Bah. On the good side, well, on the great side I get to be in High School Musical II and the club I'm in charge of at the U may have a venue to perform at come April! I'm already a part of a benefit concert for the Utah Food Bank and now I hope to incorporate the club with it too. I have a meeting today to try to accomplish just that! Wish me good luck!
Well thanks for reading my whimperings and I would write on those groundbreaking thoughts that I mentioned earlier but I can't focus because my eye hurts. Sorry :).

2007-02-17T12:27:00.000-08:00

I have two minutes to write this blog entry before I have to go upstairs and have a dress rehearsal where I will most likely humiliate myself. The 50 Milcreek kids pulled their dance together. I just hope that they will be ready . . . whoa! I should not look at what other people are viewing on the Internet. I do not want to see that girl in her underwear. Seriously! Why is she posting that kind of stuff on the Internet. Why do girls aspire to be next Internet porn star. . . like what's her name on myspace. . . 'Forbidden'. HAHA, pshh.

Anti-social. . . ness

2007-02-12T15:13:00.001-08:00

Whenever I write a blog entry I try to avoid complaints of any sort. But somehow I always end up focusing on what is bothering me. So I set an unofficial goal to not complain. Obviously it didn't work before . . . and it probably isn't going to work today because the only thing I can think of that is worth writing about is my slow descent back into anti-social . . .ness. I'm not completely there yet, which is why I avoid using the full term anti-social. Plus, using the term only perpetuates the idea. Ha, that's my excuse. Ugh, I should just come to accept the fact that I am naturally a loner. Just like my Dad is, and his Dad was, I prefer to not be bothered by people. I've attempted to change my sad sad ways these past few months but to no avail. I continue to tell myself that going outside my comfort zone will, in the long run, only produce beneficial results. It's just so uncomfortable and even irritating at times! On the weekends I prefer to stay in or spend time with family. Even my cousins have begun to notice my anti-social tendencies. I only spend time, really, with two people that aren't family and one of them is on a mission. Oh well.

New Announcement: Kicks, punches, and knee slides coming your way

2007-02-07T14:43:00.000-08:00

So I don't really recall the details as to why I wanted to write about teaching my ballet class other than that I enjoy teaching. To see my students have a desire to learn and especially their improvement is such an inspiration! An inspiration for what I don't necessarily know. . . maybe to become a better teacher. And teaching at the elementary school has been fun even though it requires managing 50+ fourth graders for about an hour.
Hmmm, well, to continue with my positive rants I found my classes interesting today and it didn't matter to me whether or not they were relevant. On the negative side of things I have to find another job. I have plenty of side jobs right now, but they'll be ending within the month and my next project won't begin until March, and I don't know how much I'll be paid or what kind of commitment it will require. There are a couple of people who owe me money for work I've done but I'm assuming that I won't come into that money quickly enough. Who is hiring employees for a month only? What kind of seasonal job exists solely for the month of February? Singing telegrams for Valentine's Day maybe. But I can't sing very well so that option is void. Hmmm, flower delivery, balloon delivery, . . . ooo! I've just had the best idea. I should start a dancing telegram business for St. Valentine's Day! Say a husband wants to let his wife know he still has a burning passion for her, he would come to us (my new company) and we would send out our dancers to do a fiery salsa dance (or Prince if that's his style). If a wife wanted to assert her dominance over a relationship with her husband we could send out some of our flamenco dancers, hehee). We could even go the other way and depending on the nature of the breakup we could provide for the 'I don't need you anymore' type breakup with a heavy metal, high energy thrash piece with lots of kicks, punches, and knee slides to the floor or the 'let me let you go' lyrical piece tastefully matched to angst ridden songs like "Still Not Ready" by blues singer Eva Cassidy. We could even do a piece that would tarnish but get the point across subtly but pointedly in a jazz piece to Michael Jackson's "Billy Jean". OWWw-ch. All dance-a-grams would be categorized according to music or dance style so that you could get your message across. . . just with more pizazz and sensitive artistry. Phew, wow, watch out American Telegrams, you've got some stiff competition coming out of the woodwork.

2007-01-29T13:55:00.000-08:00

I must say I can't remember the last time I was so dedicated to writing regularly in my blog. Over the weekend I got two calls from that mysterious 'private' call person I mentioned earlier. The second time he called I tried my best to be rude without offending him so he wouldn't call back. So I told him I couldn't speak because I needed to sleep. He asked if he could call again and I couldn't say no! I felt sick at my lack of backbone, so the next time he called I just didn't answer. Courage isn't something I feel like I have to prove in this situation, especially when the other option is easier and not harmful. I had no idea this random person wanted to talk to someone so badly. But the idea of creating a friendship with someone I don't know over a mistaken phone number kind of creeps me out. I just hope he isn't suicidal or a recluse deciding to come back from years of living a hermit lifestyle. But I guess I'll never know now.

Aside from the phone calls I enjoyed a weekend full of nausea, coughing, sinus congestion and so forth. I'm still attempting to recover and hope all will be well by tomorrow so that I don't have to teach 50 kids at an elementary and my own ballet class with a headache.

On Saturday my cousin Kaisa had a nice engagement party. I've never attended an engagement party before but I think it's a good idea for when you get married to throw as many parties with gifts as possible so that others can provide not just for home furnishings after the wedding but for the actual wedding itself! Just kidding.

For the most part my weekend was spent doing something I don't often have the chance to do. Sleep and watch movies. And funny enough, I think all that down time allowed me to think more clearly when I study. Now that the weekend is over and I'm well enough to function I'm stressed to the point that my thoughts are clouded again. Oh well, life goes on.

Jane of All Trades

2007-01-24T15:11:00.000-08:00

Since I wrote my last blog entry about how I sometimes feel frustrated with the monotony of my daily routine I figured that I ought to . . . in a sense see the glass half full. And really, when I think about it my life is full of surprises and excitement. And funny enough I got an unexpected phone call today. I was at my Dad's office talking with Emily about her trip to Hawaii when I got a 'private' call. I didn't know if it had to do with the audition callback I have on Thursday so I picked up. Well it wasn't anyone calling for me, but I did end up having an interesting conversation with a single fellow (oh, so many urges to utter immature smart mouth mutterings. . .holding back. . . holding back) named Kelly. The conversation started out odd because I didn't know if I should recognize the voice that was speaking to me and he didn't identify himself until a few minutes had passed and he had admitted to calling the wrong number. There really isn't much to tell other than that he was planning on bringing his mother some Native American flat bread, him calling me a jack of all trades but quickly correcting himself and gearing the term to my gender as a jane of all trades, and making sure he wasn't talking to a married woman (. . .girl). Hah. Well, that about concludes that adventures of today, that of Wednesday.

floss before you brush

2007-01-19T13:09:00.000-08:00

Well, wasn't there someone somewhere that said life comes at you fast? I feel as if there is little to say other than that I second that my dear friend, boy do I second that. I'm blessed in that I have had a lot of job opportunities come up that have to do with dance. It's what I have asked for. So I'm now waist deep in dance and school. Now, don't get me wrong . . . I'm very grateful to be where I am right now and I know it can only beget good results - but I can't help feeling bored and slightly anxious. I guess routine is a necessary part of my life right now. Yet in protest to all the monotony I try to make small daily events spectacular milestones for at least a moment to keep my mind of the fact that I want to be in Thailand riding an elephant. For example, today I actually muscled the courage to confront a professor I had three years ago about an unfinished grade. Usually I would walk away, shrug my shoulders, wring my hands and mouth the word 'why'. And I did do that. But to stir things up a bit I stayed and waited for him to pass by so that I could talk to him. That was such a good decision on my part, if I may say so. Email does not get results but talking face to face did or will do great things for my currently non-existent grade. Even if it adds to the load, I now have a five page paper to write from three years ago about why the Mayan civilization collapsed! Woot woot! I was so excited that I called Michelle in California to tell her about it. Well, I have just realized that I have nothing else to write other than that a few weeks ago I thought that people who have a difficult time remembering to floss their teeth should do so before they brush because it feels more rewarding. Yeah, it's gross. . but the truth is pretty nasty sometimes. Ugh, I'm such a dork.

2007-01-17T15:15:00.000-08:00

I took the "If You Were a Spy..." quiz on gURL.com
		I am a... virginia hall Are your friends constantly amazed with your new hobbies? Whether you can speak Italian, bake a pie from scratch or maneuver your way through a parallel park-a-thon, your uncanny expertise probably surprises those around you. Like Virginia Hall, you're probably intelligent, persistent and a tad of a perfectionist. Read more... Which spy are you?

Beijing again

2007-01-04T07:31:00.000-08:00

So I was going through my posts and realized that I never posted the following entry. I'm guessing I missed this entry becuase I didn't finish writing it and because all the functions to post it were in Chinese.

I've finally made it back to Beijing! Whoa, what a trip it has been. It feels like it has just started. Today we saw Tiananmen Square and what I think was the Forbidden City. I also did two things I haven't been able to do yet in China. The first, I attended Institute. Yay for me! And the next . . . . (Grandma if you are reading this you might want to wait for me to get home to explain) (and as for my friends that I know are laughing at me for constantly referring to my Grandma you know how awesome she is and how 'in' it is to refer to family in ever blog entry) . . . (so once again) I rode the subway system on my own (gasp)! (And the crowds go wild) I know, I know, it's amazing that with the little Chinese language skills I have that I rode the subway system effectively by myself! And I actually didn't have any problems until I saw the friend I was meeting and somehow couldn't recall how to exit through the .. . exiting booth thingy. I even had to transfer twice and go outside to walk to another entrance. Hahaaa, as I was waiting for another train a girl behind me asked if the train went to a certain stop but all I could do was laugh because I couldn't remember how to answer her. I wouldn't know anyways. Heehee.

Hmmm, so I think this entry is going to be a little more scattered than usual because this cafe is a lot more warm and smokier than usual. The girl next to me is cute but she keeps on singing and I'm a little distracted by the arguing going on a few rows over. China has been interesting and I can't wait to find the opportunity to travel more of China and of other places. The people here are different than I expected. (I can never remember what I've already written but . . .) The general public bugs me. They spit and they snort, and not just in the street. But when you are inside or at a store or even when you are at dinner. I've been in the middle of dinner where someone turns around to blow out snot into the corner. Oh gosh that makes me laugh.

2006-12-31T06:58:00.000-08:00

Well, today was kind of fun because we did activities that were out of the ordinary. We walked around and went to a park with pretty lights and games for kids. They also had a huge triumphal (I don't know if that is what you call it) with a large screen t.v. for the news. We played in kids bumper cars and then we ate at a BBQ place we went to before dinner. We also got another massage and for some reason I think I am more sore now than I was before the massage.

It makes me laugh when I hear American songs play. During the massage they had Fergilicious by Fergie playing over the speakers. And when I wake up in the morning to fireworks and horns honking sometimes I hear an American song like that 80's Jane Fonda one.

Tonight is New Year's Eve but nothing seems much out of the ordinary here. People I guess only really celebrate Chinese New Year. The only way I really celebrated was during our bumper car ride. Each little bumper car has a song that it plays and one with a little kid driving like a true China man trying to run us over was playing Auld Lange Syne.

Earlier in the day we went to where the two rivers meet in the city. There is also a park and a city wall. It was nice to walk around and watch all the people. When we were walking on top of the city wall Liz and her cousin saw a lady selling dofu now and yelled at her to walk to the end so that we could buy some. Hah, I do a lot of eating here.

Well, Happy 2007! Enjoy the festivities for me. Hopefully I will be learning Majan tomorrow. :)

Twinkies make a 30" waist line

2006-12-29T06:16:00.000-08:00

Hmmm, well I was going to try to post some pictures but the computer has a hard time functioning here. Today I did the same thing that I usually do here. I woke up, took a shower, read, went to lunch, walked around town and shopped, ate dinner, read some more, got on the Internet, and in a few minutes I'll go to sleep. Maybe I shouldn't complain. It's nice to have some kind of schedule instead of uncertainty and spur of the moment activities . . . right? I guess if I suggested that we try something different I might be told there isn't anything else. I doubt it though. I think taking a few hours tomorrow to explore and take picture would be a fun idea. Except that I don't have any room left to take pictures, and I'm too cheap to buy a USB or a new card. It's probably worth it. I'd also like to rent a bike and go further and see more of the city and the river that runs through the city. It's Friday night already but maybe I can convince Liz to ride a bike around, I doubt it. It would be good exercise and a definite adventure - seeing as how people don't really follow the idea of staying in the lines (I wonder how their coloring skills are). I might be a little frightened too, but at least it'd get my adrenaline running a little.

Speaking of exercise, boy does my body need some right now! The fact that I didn't dance much during finals, the few weeks before I left, and this whole month in China has resulted in me gaining a lot of weight! Haaaha, and I guess buying bags of candy at the store and eating American food (KFC) for the first time in weeks today isn't going to help. I didn't really notice I was gaining weight until I tried to buy some pants here. I don't really remember what the average size is in the United States but a size 30" waist is considered almost non-existent in China. I can not find a good pair of pants. Plus it seems the makers of pants here don't like to offer pants that allow extra baggage in the trunk (curse those petite Chinese with their flat derrieres). It seems that the Chinese always try to guess what part of the country you are from by the way you look. I wonder if there is a part of China with really big booties, I could go there to buy some pants. Hahaa, Liz and I asked her Aunt where they have plus size stores here so I could find some pants. And whenever we walk into a shop and they ask what we are looking for we tell them we need large pants (a 30-31) to fit my big butt, sweetness. I guess if I worry about gaining too much weight I can always take comfort in the fact that in a few weeks I'll be in LA sweating it all off! Woot woot! Even if that doesn't do the trick I'm not too worried seeing as how when school and dance starts I rarely have time to stuff my face with food. I'll end up losing the weight I gained anyways.

Well, I'm sure all two people (minus my parents and Grandma) who are reading this aren't really interested in how my weight fluctuates. So to move onto more interesting things I have some kind of exciting news (I'm trying to make reading this worth your time ;))! I didn't realize what I was getting myself into until I started to organize my schedule yesterday. When school starts I will be involved with at least five dance projects! I have no idea how it ended up being that many. The Asian association at the University of Utah has asked me to choreograph three pieces for the Chinese New Year celebration. I auditioned for the Modern Department's Senior concert and made the limit imposed dances of two (which are jazz and tap . . no way do they want me doing any kind of modern). Then I have the University dance club that I am in charge of starting up again . . . and I'm trying to put together a concert. Then there is Transfusion Hype which I love and hopefully my school schedule won't mess things up. A girl I took jazz with last semester is putting together a benefit concert that she asked me to be in and to choreograph for. I teach ballet on Tuesday nights but I want to teach on Monday and Thursday evenings too so that I don't have to look for a pointless job I don't enjoy. I'm not really ready to give up dance to focus on a 9 to 5 job just yet. Plus it would help to just teach a few hours in the evening when I have 18 credit hours. Well then, I guess that wasn't really exciting news but it felt good to share my concerns about my overloaded schedule and my absence of well-roundedness.

I would have some exciting news about finding some genealogy, but I don't sadly. When we were in Xi'an we went to the police station where I guess they keep all their records for the city. We went through a few different people but eventually we got a short and very simple answer that stopped us in our tracks. She said that they only started to keep records after they (the communists) took over. And I'm guessing that if there were any other records left over that they were burned or that they won't allow us access to them (supposedly because the Chinese communists are weird that way . . . I don't know). We talked to a investigative reporter but she or they thought that it would be too difficult to find anything. If I could speak the language better and were on my own I'm sure that I would be able to do more research. But for right now it doesn't seem like I'm going to gain complete fluency overnight. I think that if my Mom decides to come back to look she would have more luck with addresses and current family that lives here. I wish I could have found out more. My Grandparents seemed to have lived such a different and interesting life compared to mine. They lived in a time filled with revolutions and wars. I wonder how they felt about Mao, about the emperor, about Shang Kai Scheck (wow, I really can not spell that), about democracy, about Taiwan, about a lot of different things. I want to know more about my Grandparents families. I love to learn about my Dad's side of the family. I guess I'm beginning to find more interest in genealogy like I should.

I did find out something else though. In the morning I usually wake up to honking horns (even though the building is in an ally), loud music from a few streets over, a kids toy playing 'what child is this', someone selling who knows what in a Chinese monotone (if that is possible) voice, Liz's gradparents talking loudly (her cute Grandpa refuses to get a hearing aid), and the occassional setting off of fireworks. I didn't understand why they would set off fireworks. I was tempted to attribute it to the fact that 'it's China'. But when asked liz and I found out that they set fireworks off to celebrate a marriage. Okay, if you thought people get married in Utah like crazy, take a walk into Ganzhou. I hear fireworks at least twice a day, sometimes three! I wondered if for one couple they set fireworks off for seven days or eight and so on. But they only do it once. Then I asked if it is because they think this is a good season to get married, but I guess that isn't the case either. Wow. Now I can feel like an old maid on two continents. Hahaa, just kidding.

If you have read this far congratulations on running the reading marathon with flying colors! Woot woot! If you only read the first part and then skipped to the bottom to see how it ended then I have to say that you didn't receive the full benefit than if you read all the way through. The middle is always the best part (except for in Oreo cookies . . . and twinkies . .. and sushi . . . and hot dogs . . .and lots of things come to think of it). I think I'm craving fatty foods only because I'm in China. I don't think I've had a twinkie in at least ten years. Okay, I'll stop the ramblings- especially since it isn't about my trip to China. Good Night y'all!

Cheers?

2006-12-27T01:21:00.000-08:00

Life has been crazy in China and things haven't really gone according to plan. I ended up staying less time in Shanghai than I expected. I really liked the place and definitely plan on going back. I ended up making it to one dance class, rather than the few days of classes planned. It took a lot of work to get there and I almost missed the chance to take class. My friend that I am traveling with has close family friends in Shanghai and I guess they liked me enough to send a driver and their son to accompany me to the dance studio. We found the studio but outside the building was a banner that said all the buildings in the area were being torn down to be rebuilt, and a stranger told us that they had moved already. But we took a chance and talked to one other person who said it was their last day of classes there! I ended up taking one contemporary jazz class. I enjoyed it, especially since I got to take it all by myself. I guess they didn't have many students because of how their schedule works. My teacher's name was Yorkie and she came from the Netherlands. I liked her class, and only found a few differences from American style of dancing. She was only a substitute there so making a connection to the studio didn't really happen. But she wanted to keep me longer and gave me her numbers and email address so that I can contact her!

I haven't figured out the whole work thing for when I get back. I had planned on coming back to having another dance job at Collette's dance studio but I guess they couldn't switch the day of the class. My friend told me she sounded excited about having me and was going to give me a call. But I can't really receive calls here on my cell phone, and I can't change the times that I work at Pulse. I was hoping to just teach instead of finding another job unrelated to dance! Boy do I wish:)

Yesterday we went to a park and there were tons of people! I think the park is a place for the elderly to go when they retire. They were sitting on rocks and playing cards or majan (I can't spell that). Some had their grandchildren and others were getting exercise by doing some fan dancing. Kids were playing badminton and we had a mentally ill but gentle old man stand in front of us and stare for a few minutes. We also went to the supermarket so that I could buy some toothpaste, lotion, hair dye, and oreos.

I had my hair dyed in Shanghai and it turned out awful! I don't recall if I have already written this but my hair is streaked with ORANGE! Blech! After the hairstylist had finished hitting on Liz and me he showed me my hair and it had spots! I don't know if the guy that died my hair knew what he was doing. I should have said something when I saw his shaking hands, look of deep concentration, and the action of licking of lips every time he touched my hair. But then again I probably wouldn't make any sense . . . "bu hao! bu hao!". I've never had my hair dyed before. The dye I bought at the store looks brown, and hopefully it won't turn out too light and unnatural. I'm hoping that my hair will be okay by the time I get back.

I don't know if I had actually communicated my distaste if he would have been offended. I don't really understand how things work here. I know that in the US if you don't like it you can say something . . although I don't always do so. I think that I may have already disrespected somebody without meaning to. Liz's third uncle (or fourth, or sixth . . .) took us out to lunch and his wife had made a toast saying in English Cheers! But before that she had used the Mandarin word for it and I had repeated it to be polite. So when she said the English version it didn't register that it was English and that I actually knew the word so I repeated what she said again trying to match her tones. I never realized it was English until Liz said that I was being disrespectful later that evening! I tried to explain to her what happened while trying to understand understand the situation myself. I really didn't mean to offend or mock anyone. Liz doesn't believe me though. Oh well, there are a lot of things I need to ignore on this trip to get along peacefully. It's not fun being misunderstood though (especially in your own language).

2006-12-22T06:55:00.000-08:00

I decided that my words weren't really doing the job of creating a vivid vision of my experiences in China. So I use the power of my favorite new toy, my Panasonic camera. Above is a place we visited in Xi'an. Like most historical sight I've been to recently they all have something to do with Buddhism. And the tour guides tell you that you need to see this and that place because it has the largest painting, tallest sculpture, shenme shenme shenme of Confucius or a Buddha.

Next we have two adorable babies we met while visiting the foster home in Xi'an. Joe (if I remember) and Jade are their names. I want to take them home!

I took this picture in Xi'an because it shows the crazy kind of development going on here. This place next to the foster home (considered the outside of the city) had at least five of the shown high-rises in the process of being built! If that wasn't enough, across the street there were about four more high-rise apartment buildings in the process of construction! A lot of the development is government sponsored and everything from contractors to architects are controlled by the state. For buildings like this though they don't use much variety. It's like Ivory Homes but for high rises. They use the design of one high-rise for the four more.

I had my hair cut and colored today and I'm feeling like it was a huge mistake. It's okay though, I can die it when I get back. It's so unnatural looking and it is the last thing from classy. It's hard to tell in this picture, but it's was too orange.

On the bright side the food here is awesome, with a few exceptions. I haven't had the Chinese drips yet. I figure it's because we have made good choices in where we eat. This place above was in Xi'an where you can buy your food outside on the street or you can buy a ticket and get something from each individual place and sit down. There are two more open floors above to eat. The top floor is a fancier restaurant though. I had blood soup and kidneys there. . . not my favorite foods. The dumplings were yummy as usual though.

Well, I hope that showed a little more of my experiences here. There's so much more to China that pictures and words can't explain. The strange question that continues to grow in my mind is how I will react to the culture when I get home. I know that I've only experienced a fraction of what it's like to be a part of this place, but I do think that the little I've seen will contrast even more with my return home. Merry Christmas for the millionth time!

2006-12-21T10:28:00.000-08:00

My goodness, I'm finally in Shanghai! It's great to know that I'll be staying in a place for longer than one day. I should be here for two more days and then it's on to Guangzhou . . . I think. I'm having trouble remember what I last wrote about but the past few days have consisted of the cities Nanjing, Wuxi, and Shuzhou. I must say that Wuxi was not my favorite place. And on top of that everyone seemed to spit and snort a lot more than the rest of China. It was dirty and the people pushed more.

I find the culture here different than what I've been brought up in. I've always been under the impression that the Chinese were into the whole honor thing but it seems like the elderly here are totally ignored or rudely referred to. There have been a couple of memorable experiences that include a little stubborn arguing . . . but for the first time it wasn't on my part! Don't worry ( . . .Grandma) I'm not getting into trouble nor am I making eye contact with anyone. Haha, that brings me to another story. People here STARE as if they've never seen human life! I guess it's because we are foreigners, but when staring gets to the point of an entire train full of people watching your every move for five minutes it starts to cross over into the 'you're being rude' domain.

I'm exhausted but I felt like updating. I miss many things here in China. I miss my Mom and Dad, I miss my Grandma, my family, Christmas, my friends, DANCING (Ooo, I get to take a dance class on Saturday! Woot woot, Merry Christmas to me!), church, and two very important things to me . . . my independence and complete communication skills. I enjoy the safety I've had while here, but I also feel suppressed! There's just too much to write, so I better end with a few upbeat notes on China. The food is yummy and cheap. The hotel we are in has a computer! I'm in Shanghai . . woot woot! I'm getting a haircut tomorrow. I get to see China! Love you all and MERRY CHRISTMAS!