Saturday, July 31, 2010

The Words of Kishkirsti

My friend, Tim, is currently serving a mission in Chicago, Illinois, but is presently located in good ol' Wisconsin. I say this because instead of writing regular letters to each other, Tim has decided that he wants to write epistles and would like people to write epistles in return. So he is known as Timancum (a derivative of the Book of Mormon name, Tiancum), and I am known as Kishkirsti (the derivative of a known villain in the Book of Mormon, Kishkumen. I'm not a villain, exactly, but it's the most similar to my name...). Anyways, I've recieved two epistles and I'm going to type up the most recent one:

1st Timancum 3:1-10


1) And it came to pass that I, Timancum, son of Kenneth, did find free time in this twenty and sixth day of the seventh month of the second year of the reign of Obama, and have many joyous stories to share with his beloved sister in God, Kishkirsti.
2) Behold, I have been carried away in a van to the land of Beloit in the state of Wisconsin. yea, the Lord prevaileth much here. My companion is Elder Barker and he beith a large and mighty man in the Lord. He hath taught me many things regarding the salvation of souls, for behold the worth of souls is great in the sight of God.
3) Yea, it bringeth much joy unto my soul that the corn did not cause thee to sleep the great slumber in the early days of thine mortal life. For behold, the power of God worketh many miracles in the land of our inheritance.
(NOTE: I'm gonna skip some verses for personal reasons. It's nothing TOO personal, but it's something either only I will understand or it's really boring...)
5)And it came to pass that I, Timancum, did purchase a Nerf gun of exceedingly curious workmanship with my senine of silver. Behold it bringeth much fun and recreation to our great and spacious apartment. The lazer pointer worketh not for it hath no batteries, but they have proven useless in days gone by.
6) Yea verily, verily I say unto you that our mighty foes, the Jehovah's Witnessites worketh much fear into the hearts of men. Yea, many do fear and avoideth us for they know not the Mormons. Our newest tactic as we find those to teach us to include, 'Have no fear, for we are not of Jehovah's Witness. Be of good cheer, and listen to our words.' Now the tactic worketh rarely in these lands, but it doth relieve the people of the fear of the Jehovah's Witnessites.
7)Yea, pizza is most delicious to me and it delighteth my soul greatly. It competeth not with the Phillysalem Cheese Steak, but I have been raised with the knowledge sufficient to worketh them up from scratch. But behold, my heart doth sorrow much because of my static weight, for it changeth not according to my intake.
9) And before I do close mine epistle, I bid thee to further avoid corn, for it is easier to avoid corn than to resist it. Yea verily, verily I say unto you it is of little nourishment for the belly despite its alsum[sic] flavor. (NOTE: He didn't misspell Awesome by accident. He spells it that way because he finds it humorous. There's a longer back story, but getting into that would take forever. Anyways, I use it too from time to time since I find it funny...)
10)And now I, Timancum, do wish Kishkirsti a fond and short farewell until thine next epistle. Beith thou excellent to each other.

Love,
Elder Timancum Knight

Anyways, this won't be funny to anyone besides LDS folk. Sorry to you secular people that so happen to stumble upon my unfortunate blog. Join the church and you'll understand...or read the Book of Mormon! YEAH! (I had to try...right?)

I'm working on a good response and am getting better at writing epistles without too much thought. I'm also trying to incorporate some of the vocabulary in my speech to help me further. If I'm gonna be writing these for two years, I better start getting used to it.

P.S. Bangs are doing well. Thanks for asking.

P.P.S. I will eventually upload one of my short films to my blog...when I muster up the patience.

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Take 3!

This is the third time this week after my initial "Tired" post that I've tried blogging. First try was that night. It failed because it lacked direction. Second try was last night. I lacked focus because there was too much on the TV. Sad huh? Also I was a bit too hyper for the first bit and then I crashed HARD for the second, so it was random and then surprisingly melancholy with a bit of cynicism.

So here I go again.

I've been reminiscing about my childhood a lot lately and how simple it used to be. Also, how strange my particular childhood was. Though maybe not too strange. Let me enlighten all of you on a few of my childhood memories. I'll try and make them short.

1. I remember in Elementary school, particularly 2nd grade, that having a sprained ankle was the new fashion. It all started with my best friend, Laura. She broke her foot somehow and had to have a cast and crutches. HOW COOL IS THAT?!?>!!1 At least, that's what I thought. And every other girl in my 2nd grade class. Then we all started getting injured during recess. Or should I say "injured". The other Laura, my other best friend, got a sprained ankle after jumping off our jungle gym, which stood at a staggering 5 feet but still managed to do the deed. She was rushed to the nurses' office by the teacher on duty and was taken home. She came to school the next day with an ACE bandage wrapped around her foot, and she was so proud. Then it snowballed. All the other girls started wearing ACE bandages and taking turns on Laura #1's crutches and saying that they needed them too. I was the last in line. But I eventually took an ACE bandage from my parents closet and wrapped it around my ankle. Since I was the last, everyone paid the most attention to me. So I got all the limelight. Serves Laura #2 for jumping on the bandwagon too soon. Her glory days were over.

Anyways, eventually it all faded when Laura #1's cast was removed. Then our next obsession was tether ball and punching that thing as hard as you could. Then it was getting poison ivy. Funny how things come and go at that age.

2. I distinctly remember when I was maybe pre-school age getting a HUGE rock thrown at my head by my neighbor friend, who was about my age. I asked my mom just the other day if this really happened. Turns out it did. I wonder if that has anything to do with my issues today...

3. I seem to be focusing on injuries. Because this next one is when my sister, Sarah, broke her arm riding on roller blades. I remember her hitting a rock and flying through the air and crying out like someone cut off her limb. I also remember her having to take the bottom bunk so that she could sling her arm above her while she slept. That meant that I was on the top bunk and very vulnerable. I fell off it at one point and also had the perfect view of her creepy doll that would stare at me at night. It had brown pigtails and her eyes were like two black holes boring into my soul. I had a nightmare of it coming alive one night on that top bunk and I also dreamed that it climbed the ladder and tried to hurt me. Yeah. This time was a dark moment in my past. Thanks a lot, Sarah! NOT!

4. Going along with dolls, I remember my porcelain doll collection. I'd get one every Christmas and birthday celebration for a few years in my childhood. Eventually, I had accumulated about 7 of them. They were all very beautiful and I favored this one that was dressed all Victorian styled and had a lovely brown bun placed delicately high on her head. She also had a hat that was removable and her dress was so intricate and gorgeous. But at the same time I have no idea why I got these dolls. There were many moments where I would watch them, waiting for them to change their expressions. I knew they were alive like in "Toy Story" and I was just WAITING for them to move so that I could be like "AHA! You are alive! I knew it! Now, I'm a nice person, so please don't hurt me like I know you're capable of..." Because I knew that they would hurt me if I didn't explain it to them.

I think I convinced myself that this one particularly terrifying doll DID change expression. It went from all happy-faced to sad-faced. And that scared me. I would stare at them at night, keeping my guard up. Obviously, they never killed me but they're now located in my attic and are probably pissed about that and are plotting their revenge on me. I need to get out of Missouri...NOW.

5. Lets try for a good memory, shall we? Lets see...I remember the woods across from my parents' house (which I am currently residing in). Me and my friends would go into those woods and create forts in the trees and pick fights with the kids that we didn't let into our gang. Or we'd just sit and pretend like we were living there and had to survive from the resources around me. I was a child Bear Grylls, ya'll! I knew the right berries to eat (though I never ate them...just in case), and I knew the right places to pee and to throw rocks at squirrels. I was a smart kid.

We also infiltrated many different Disc Golf games, since the woods are actually a Disc Golf course. Many drunk guys got pissed at us, but because of their current state they could run after us in a straight line. Thank goodness for sporadically-planted trees and bushes. (We never were really at a risk with the disc golfers. Though we definitely pretended we were.)

I have a lot more, but I'll stop there. Instead, look at my rockin' bangs! I got them to go all the way across. And yes, Emily, I am obsessed with my hair. Better than being obsessed with my feet or forearms, otherwise you'd be seeing a lot of pictures of those. Ew.

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Tired

After the random binging of blog posts, I'm now at a standstill. Not because there aren't events in my life that I wish all of you (all 3 of you, I should say) to read about, but I'm just tired. In what way? Yes. All the above. You think of a way, I am tired in that way. Don't even try and come up with a way that I possibly won't be tired, because I'll disprove you and I WILL be tired in that way. Oh, I will.

That's the only way I can describe how I'm feeling. It's much like the emotion one feels in the middle of midterms or finals, except that I haven't studied for anything like a midterm or final and I definitely am not in school at the moment. If I were, I'd have a feeling I'd actually be less tired. Strange, huh? I'm so tired right now this post is making no sense. Anyways, I'll probably try and muster motivation to do an ACTUAL blog post tonight or tomorrow...or never. Maybe in a month.

Speaking of a month, that's how long I have in Missouri. It's both a "Yay!" and a "Boo!" I'm happy because that means I'm back at BYU and *hopefully* having a blast like last year. But I'm unhappy because it means I have to learn and also give a temporary goodbye to my friends in Missouri and to my family. It also means that I have to pack up and drive 22 hours...ugh.

This post has made me even more tired. I'm done with it. I'll have a better one later. I promise. Maybe. Take my promises with a grain of salt.

Sunday, July 11, 2010

So I think I'm just gonna post these things whenever I want

My plans at having a set "day" for talking about my vanity/hair have tanked completely. I guess I just don't work well under a schedule. But I'm gonna take you through my bangs process AKA what it takes to make my bangs immaculate (this is one of my favorite words to use right now, just so you know).

First, I wash my hair.
Mmmm, cute huh? Would you still affiliate yourself with me if I went out in public like that? Anyways, I make sure that my hair isn't too dry when I start this process. That way I have a say in how I can mold it BEFORE I  pull out the heavy duty tools i.e. my curling iron.

The next stage is to blow dry my hair. I completely dry my bangs but only dry about 60% of the rest of my hair since I'm too lazy to be thorough. My hair is thick, and doing a complete drying would take about 15 minutes. Yeah. Not happening.
I guess I was excited about something. But that's what I look like after I blow dry my bangs. Good times.

Next step includes layering. I have to curl the bottom layer first and then the top. Yes, my bangs are that thick. And they wouldn't look good if I didn't do such a detail.
There it is. Pretty self-explanatory, right? They're shaping up quite well! Even the left side has decided to cooperate! For this particular layer, if I remember correctly, it took a couple of rounds with the curling iron to get it that way.

Next step is the top layer and the finishing touches to make it look the best.
Hm. I think they need a trim. But that's how it's done. That's the length I go to to make my bangs look good. But as I've said in the past, sometimes I pin them back if it seems like it's hopeless.

Anyways, I'll give you a work update: I haven't seen much of Creepy Co-worker since my rather upsetting encounter. I either run away in the opposite direction (quite literally) or I give a very brief salutation and continue on my way.

This post was picture heavy but not very text heavy. So I'll leave it at that. I'm also distracted since I'm watching "Aladdin" with my parents. Oh, Aladdin. Is it just me or is he up there in the list of most attractive "princes" in Disney? It could just be me...End ramblings.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Incompetent (adj.) When a person is unable to come up with a clever blog post title

Today, I saw a rabbit. Whilst cleaning the windows that are around the Olympic-sized pool at the Student Rec Center, a bunny hopped rather frantically from out of my view right to the edge of the bush that sits beside the window. I stopped staring at the hand print I was busy wiping off and looked at the brown blur. But it was no longer a blur. It had stopped dead in it's tracks at the bush, waiting. No, not waiting. Watching. And when I stared right into it's eye, I realized that it was watching me. 

I knew it was watching me because Coco, my lovely rabbit, has done this same exact thing many times before. He would stop what he was doing and watch me as I danced around my room singing to Coldplay or other things and would just stare. Sometimes I'd stare back and talk to him, asking what his problem was and if he knew staring was rude. But he never responded and would go back to chewing his wood shavings or thumping his back feet to prove his manliness.

But this rabbit had a different expression. It wasn't fear, nor was it the same curious expression Coco had. It was judgment. This rabbit was JUDGING me. It stopped it's frantic flight and risked it's safety in the bushes to judge ME. the judgment turned into pity and I found that I had altogether stopped cleaning, dropped my towel and watched the rabbit. I no longer cared how it was looking at me but was waiting for it to move already. Hadn't it done enough? After realizing I'd spent a good 30 seconds doing nothing, I picked up my towel and moved away from the window, the rabbit still statuesque. 


I will admit that from time to time while I'm cleaning, I feel an overwhelming sense of shame. I don't push around a cart with a mop and all the cleaning supplies so as to not draw attention to myself. The cart squeaks when it's wheeled around and it makes a loud racket. So, instead, I make several trips to the cleaning closet to pick up what I need for a particular task and mutely move about the building, trying to blend as much as possible. It's hard to blend, though, when your shirt is a bright VIVID blue and you're the only person in the entire building that's wearing jeans. Oh, and I have to have a walkie on me, so that also makes me stand out. Or I look like a crazy person who likes to listen in on other people's conversations over radio.


One particularly debilitating task that I have to endure from time to time is wearing the backpack vacuum, or as we call it in the cleaning world, Backpack Vack.




 It's very fun to say, but very ridiculous to wear. Every time I see that I have to vacuum with such a device, I groan to myself and get ready to be embarrassed beyond anything I've ever experienced. It's like you're a Ghostbuster, but less cool. I've even tried imagining the dust bunnies are rather violent poltergeists but it just doesn't feel the same.


Sometimes I'm lucky and I have to use the Backpack Vack in a secluded area. But most frequently I'm using this thing on the indoor track. So I go to the 3rd floor closet, stare down the purple cylindric suction tool (our vacuums have a purple trim. How lovely, right?), grab it and the power chord, and then make my way, rather noisily since everything is rattling around, to the closest power outlet to the mess. I then tighten all the straps as the person who uses it usually is bigger than me (MUCH bigger) and then put it on. And as I'm vacuuming, I pretend that I can hear laughter over the loud hum of the machine and I imagine myself suddenly having super powers and the ability to make people implode. And I do just that. But it's all in my head and I'm still just the cleaner lady who's vacuuming up dust and trying to get by in life.


But there are brighter moments in my working life. Like my daily encounters with the sweet old men in the "Quiet Room" (it's called the "Quiet Room" because it's a work-out area without the blaring music and you can't talk on your cell phone in there and whatnot. So it's really quiet) or when I get a thank you from someone for cleaning something. But mainly, my bright moments are when I talk to Wentworth Miller Guy (WMG).


But then there are definitely some lower moments than my bouts of shame. In particular, my encounters with Creepy Co-worker. Last week was a GREAT week. I had many conversations (short, but sweet) with WMG and also avoided Creepy Co-worker every single day except for one day when he tried talking to me, but then the manager of the actual building wanted to talk to me and so I didn't say a single word to Creepy Co-worker. 


This week, not so much. Yesterday, I ran into him accidentally on two occasions, both in a secluded setting and both times I wished I had a Siamese twin. He inquired about my 4th of July and I said it was "Fine" and then left as soon as possible. The second time, he asked me why I kept the door to the break room open. I froze. I couldn't tell him the real reason which is this: I keep the door open because I know that when he goes on break, he CLOSES the door to have privacy. It's my way of letting myself know that HE'S in there, and to NOT go inside. Handy little trick, huh? Well, now he was onto me. Here's how the conversation went.


Creepy Co-Worker: Hey, I have a question. Why do you keep the door to the break room open?


Me: Uh, I just do. I like it.


Creepy Co-Worker: Well, when you do that, people can get in and take stuff and it's not safe or secure. Keeping it closed makes sure no one does that kind of stuff. 


SIDE NOTE-The break room isn't locked. So having the door closed does nothing as far as security except it keeps people from seeing what's inside. Like that stopped any petty thief from robbing a house...


Me: Well, uh, I have chemicals on my hand and I just hate touching the handle all the time when I walk in...I'll keep it closed. It's whatever, I just..yeah...I gotta...


And I left. I screamed internally and wished that I had come up with a better reason. But I was so creeped out and so angry that he would have the AUDACITY to talk to me that I couldn't think of something better. I let it go because then I had a lovely little conversation with Wentworth Miller Guy.


Today, though, I decided to keep the door closed. And I needed something that's kept in the break room. And I saw that the light was on and heard the rumblings of a TV. I braced myself and opened the door a crack. I sneaked my hand around and grabbed the object I needed. And then he noticed me.


Creepy Co-Worker: Hey! How's it goin'?


Me: Uh...cleaning. *awkward chuckle*


Creepy Co-Worker: So yesterday, I didn't quite hear why you want to keep the break room door open.


Me: *Internally wishing I had come up with a better reason in that 24 hour time* Well, I just don't like touching door handles is all. It kinda grosses me out...


Creepy Co-worker: How do you change trash and clean toilets and--


Me: It's different...just don't worry about it, I'll keep it closed. 


And at this point I try leaving.


Creepy Co-Worker: Hey! HEY!! I'm not finished yet!


Me: 0_0 *start to internally panic*


Creepy Co-Worker: You have your purse in here. Aren't you afraid of it getting stolen with the door open?


Me: Uh...not really. Nope. Not concerned.


Creepy Co-Worker: Well, alright, you can keep it open, it doesn't really matter to me. I don't care.


Me: It's...whatever. Yeah, I gotta...


And I was outta there, wishing that I had the ability to become invisible. Where's an invisibility cloak when you need it? Anyways, my handy little trick isn't so handy anymore and now I need a new way of telling if he's in the room or not. Maybe I'll just avoid it all-together.


So, work has it's ups and downs and for the most part I love the pay and the work isn't too hard. I just don't make eye-contact with people because I know they'll have pity in their eyes and I'll feel shame in the pit of my stomach. And then there are the bright moments when I see someone smile at me or witness a tender moment between a mother and her child who then decides to smear their tiny hands all over my clean glass doors and then the tender moment is now a moment of frustration as I realize I'll have to clean it. Again. *grumbles* stupid childrens.

Saturday, July 3, 2010

I think I need to learn my days of the week

What is with me and keeping a weekly commitment?! Yesterday was Friday and I wish I could say that I was doing something extraordinary like last Friday to prevent a "Bangs" post. But I didn't. I got up for work. Went to work. Hated my life for going to work, but loved the check I received. Came home. Ate. Slept. Woke up. And then there's this big blank area where I really don't remember what I did. I did spend a lot of my time moping and being angry about the Wimbledon Men's Singles Semifinals (ARGSHESSHHPFFTT!@^*$11!!1) but I don't remember what I did from about 2pm to maybe 5pm. No idea at all. Hm. Well, then I decided to run errands. I only did 1.5 of the three things I had planned: I deposited my checks and turned in my overdue books at the library. But I didn't go into said library to check out a few other books and I didn't go to Gerbes to see if they had Breyer's ice cream and if it is, indeed, ALL natural, meaning NO HFCS. so I came home, saw that Steven took my parking spot in front of the house, ate dinner, complained some more about tennis, went to my room, watched some movie trailers and planned a night out with Kelsey.

So, you see? Before 9pm, I could've easily posted my "bangs" blog. But I didn't. Instead, I saw one of the greatest movies of the year, "Winter's Bone".
For whatever reason, there isn't a movie poster for this film. I guess it's a little too independent for a movie poster. Anyways, what the image says is true, though. It won at Sundance and it DESERVED it. It's about as bleak as "Precious: Based on the novel 'Push' by Sapphire" but without Mo'Nique and definitely less ghetto-talk. Okay, in all seriousness, it was phenomenal. So many great actors and such a bittersweet film, I'd put it down as one of my top 20 films this decade. It's too early to say, though, since I still have 9.5 years to go before piecing together such a list. It's only showing at limited theatres, so you Missourians out there, come to Columbia, go to Ragtag, get yourself a cushy sofa or chair and watch this film! It takes place in Missouri as well, so in case you weren't Missouri'd out, you get to watch a film about Missouri in Missouri while feeling Missouri humidity and maybe suffering a few Missouri-mosquito bugbites. FUN! Have I mentioned Missouri enough? Hm, I thought not...

But back to the original reason for this post (like any of you read this anyways)<----yes, that was a passive-aggressive remark about the lack of comment love. Not that I need comments for self-validation as to why I keep this durned thing, but...wait, actually I do.

Okay, lets try again. Bangs. Well, nothing too crazy to report. They were relatively calm this week. Last week must've been their PMSing week. Is there such a thing as hair-midol? Maybe I'll patent it. If not for anyone else, at least myself. My bangs this week, though, were pretty well-behaved. That might be because I have started to put them up when I think they're being stupid. So a combination of no-PMS and the realization that they'll be punished for bad behavior has tamed them. Yay!
Hm. I tried looking happy...but I kinda look crazed. Or tired. Or both, since I did take this at about midnight two nights ago, when my "cold" was at its worst. But, yeah, that's my bangs on good behavior.

P.S. Just saw this. And I laughed a lot. Not that it's any kind of slant on the finale of "LOST"...but if you're a LOST fan, you'll appreciate the incredulity of it all: http://www.howitshouldhaveended.com/