Thanksgiving

I haven't blogged in a long while. And to my avid readers, because I know you're out there... somewhere, I apologize. Has my life been filled with Barney Stinson "Thats is SO going in my blog!" moments? Yes. Have I had the will to do anything about it? No.

This break has been fruitless. I have no means of transportation so my chances of getting a job are very very slim. So my days consist of watching Phineas and Ferb, knitting, playing guitar and writing the great American novel. I'm so legit. Could I blog? Yes. Do I blog? No. Are we sensing a pattern here?

However today is Thanksgiving, and here I am to air my grievances against it.

Let me start this rant by saying that I adore Thanksgiving. It's the day we eat and eat and eat and eat and eat and eat and eat and eat till we can't eat anymore. It's a little bit beautiful.

However, when I awoke this morning to a "Happy Thanksgiving" text from a friend, I did something awful. I thought in my head. "Today, I am thankful for my awesome hair day."

Seriously Kirsten? Seriously? That's what you're thankful for?

Granted, my hair does look awesome today, but that's not the point. The point is the complacency into which we as a culture and myself personally have fallen.

If you ever feel the need to pray for me, pray that I never become complacent. Because honestly that's one of my biggest vices. Complacency leads to laziness which seems to have earned the title for the least offensive sin ever. But I can attest the exact opposite. It's lethal. It pulls you down and makes it seem like noting's happening until you've reached the point of no return. Laziness is not cool.

But that's where we are. We're thankful for our cars and our pretty faces and our good hair days. And yes, all those things are gifts from God, but do we value those tiny, insignificant things above the true gifts of God?

1 Thessalonians 5:18 says "Be thankful in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you who belong to Christ Jesus." Not in all your good things, not only in the pleasant times, not just when you and God are on awesome terms and everything is going your way. In all circumstances, be thankful. This means be thankful in your storms and in your weakness. Be thankful when nothing is going the way you want it. Be thankful when you don't understand what He's doing at all. Because this is Gods will. That's the main thing. It's His will. Do we value our own comfort and will above that of our Creator and Savior?

Disclaimer: I'm about to quote Katy Perry.

After a hurricane comes a rainbow.

Ok, that was rough, but it's largely true. Now to steer away from Katy Perry and back to the bible.

Romans 8:28, possibly one of the most well known verses says "And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them." Going along with what's said about thankfulness in Thessalonians, it is the will of God that we be thankful, not just because of the good, but the bad as well. Because in the large scheme of things, God's got this one. Seriously. He works ALL things together for good for those who love Him. Not the good things, not the pretty happy churchy things, not the things that you'd be happy to share with everyone. All things. So even in the worst parts of life, even when we don't understand, we can know that God understands everything, and He orchestrates everything together for the good of His bride.

So we're thankful when life sucks. We're thankful when we fail. We're thankful when there's death and destruction and all sorts of awful sin, because nothing is too big for God. When we, in our tiny view of time and space and reality, foolishly think that we know what He's doing, or that He's doing nothing at all, loose the ability to be truly thankful. Because you have to be broken down to be rebuilt. You have to go through pain to grow. You have to truly realize how depraved we are and how perfect God is to truly be thankful. We often loose sight of the great chasm between the character of us and God. We delude ourselves into believing that we're not that bad, or that God is not that good. But when you drop your pretenses, and look at the situation for what it really is, the only response to God is begging for forgiveness. And because He is good, the only good, He does. The only response to priceless forgiveness is endless thanksgiving.

So lets make thanksgiving every day (Not the eating part, because that could open a whole different can of unpleasantries). I'm thankful for my failures, because through them God has proved victorious. I'm thankful for my weaknesses, because in them God is my strength. And most of all I am eternally, truly and mournfully grateful for my Saviour and best friend, Jesus, and for His never ending redemptive love that surpasses anger, His mercy that surpasses justice and His death that allows me to truly live.

Hey

Hey is for horses.

Ok, I am fully aware that it's "hay" that is for horses, but you get the idea.

I absolutely, cannot stand when someone starts a virtual conversation this way.

Now, don't get me wrong, I say "hey" as much and anybody, but that's not what I hate. I hate when it stands alone. A single "hey" as if it's something of actual substance. "Hey" is not information to be shared. "Hey" is neither a verb, a noun, or any other part of legitimate speech. It is an interjection, and School House Rock taught us that "Interjections show excitement or emotion. They're generally set apart from the sentence by an exclamation point, or by a comma when the feelings not as strong". See that? Set apart from the sentence. For an interjection, in this case the word "hey" to hold any legitimate weight, it must be apart of a larger entity, working toward a bigger cause.

But come on, you know what I'm talking about. Someone texts you with just "hey".

Seriously? Seriously. Hey? Is that all you have to say to me? You took time out of your life to write the word "hey"? This word can indicated many things about a persons intentions.

How does one usually respond to a "hey"? With another "hey", of course. To which the first "hey"er will without any doubt, because this is exactly how predictable the human race is, will say "What's up?" Don't believe me? next time this happens to you, I bet you a dollar that it will go down that way, and I'll throw an extra 50 cents on it if they follow that "what's up" with an ever charming "lol". I know, I'm a big spender. When a person opens a conversation with a rouge "hey" it can mean several things. One of them being that they wish to talk to you, but have nothing to say. In which case, I say you probably shouldn't be talking if this is the case. What ever happened to the world where if someone didn't have anything to say, they just didn't say anything? Now, I know this seems kind of hypocritical, seeing as how I am an 18 year old Caucasian female with a blog, but bare with me.

If you're going to start a conversation, please have something to say. As previously established, the "hey" "hey" "what's up lol" conversation is very common, so why not cut out the awkwardness for the other person and start your conversation with "Hey, what's up?" or even easier, "What's up?". See, that's a question. It's inquisitive, and albeit not the cleverest of inquiries, it is an inquire, none the less. It's even better if you open with an actual topic of conversation, because nothing is more awkward than a "conversation" with someone you don't really know, about something you're not really sure of.

"Hey."

*Awkward time in which the recipient of the the text tries to figure out what to say*

"Hey."

"What's up? lol"

*Awkward time in which recipient tries to figure out what so was funny about that question that made this person elaborate with and "lol"*

"Nothing much."

BECAUSE IT'S ALWAYS NOTHING THAT'S HAPPENING.

Seriously, I bet you another 50 cents that next time you ask someone "what's up?" providing you're not bffs or whatever, they will reply with "nothing much". Because our lives are THAT boring, obviously. Actually what it is, is an inborn rejection of the mass digital media. We know, deep down that for this many people to have access to our information and even to us is not natural. So we put up defenses, we say that nothing much is happening, because seriously, you don't really want to know whats up. You don't care that much.

Another thing about "hey" (Yeah, I'm still going) is that it's rude. It's a call for attention, a demand in fact. To ignore a "hey" is to ignore someones demand on your time. It's like, seriously, you're wasting not only your time, but mine for a mundane conversation? You couldn't think of one intelligent ting to say? Is your time and your God given ability to think as an intelligent creature that invaluable to you?

So do me a favor. Next time you're tempted to start a conversation off with a "hey", stop, and think of something really clever or funny to say instead. I know you're dying to talk to this person because they're, like such a babe, but trust me, if their level of intelligence is higher that that of a squirrel, they'll feel awkward with an interjection standing on it's own. Think of something funny like "Hey, I just saw a fish riding a recumbent down the highway. Thought of you."

Pink facebook pictures and wearing purple.

So, I got on facebook the other day, to see that a few peoples pictures had turned pink.

"Entewesting..." (Like interesting, but with a funny voice). I think to myself. It must be a thing. Like when all the women gang up to confuse men with their statuses. But unfortunately, the reason for these pink pictures was made perfectly clear on the wall of the person with the pink picture. It's to raise awareness for beast cancer.

Now before you go thinking that I'm the worlds worst person, let me say that cancer is one of the most horrible things on this earth. It eats you away from the inside and it's awful. I've yet to be directly effected by it, but I'm sure some day I will be, because of the statistics. I am not a total bitch with a heart of ice. Cancer is bad.

But seriously. Who does like cancer? Does anybody support it? Do we really need to raise awareness for it? Ok, let me rephrase. We should raise awareness, but do we need to convince people that it's bad? Does anybody like cancer?

When I looked at the page that turns your picture pink, I saw that when people did it, this organization would give money in support of breast cancer research.

That sounded good at first. But then I got to thinking.

Seriously? You have to have a certain amount of people pledge to you before you give money. It'd be one thing if it were a Pro-life company, or something in support of stem cell research. Something where there are actually people opposing your stance. But who is going to be like "Nope, I refuse to support breast cancer research. It's against my morals." This company is just being weird and stingy. Because everybody hates cancer. You make people take a stance on which there is no opposition before you donate money. Not cool.

Another thing that's been bugging me was purple shirt day.

Again, I am not homophobic, nor do I hate gay people.

I couldn't figure out what bugged me about it until I read one of my most entertainingly sarcastic facebook friends status:

"Good job today everyone. Homophobia's been defeated."

I think I actually lawl'd at that. Because it's probably the truest thing ever.

Is wearing a purple shirt really going to stop the bullying and abuse that young gay kids face? I get that we're showing support, but why not show support with your lives, instead of an outward expression that anyone who isn't apart of the facebook event won't get. Because I assure you, by wearing that purple shirt, you did absolutely nothing to stop homophobia. Did you wear purple the next day? Did your desire to stop hate crimes decrease? Probably not. It was essentially pointless. Unless you count the sense of superiority or accomplishment you felt, but that is completely self indulgent.

Why do we have to have days or months to raise awareness for something. Why can't we just spread love and kindness to everyone we meet all the time? Why can't we support things that we care about year round instead of one month out of twelve?

Kirsten is a mean-y face. Kirsten hates gay people. Kirsten loves breast cancer. She also eats babies, kicks puppies, has over due library books and worships satan.*

Whatever.

*Actually, one of these things is true. I'll let you decide.

My phone

In its original form, this post was supposed to go a little something like this:
Sunday night, I left my phone charger in Reagans car and I cannot retrieve it until Friday when she can drag her butt up here to give it to me. So until then I shall exist in a sad state. One without a phone.

I know have to trudge through the day without any means of communicating with the world not around me. I might as well be Amish.

This is where I'd say that if you're one of the 5 people who text me on a regular basis, I don't newly hate you. If you're the rest of the world, this doesn't effect you in the least.

Then I'd drone on about how difficult life has been since I haven't been able to text or call people, and I'd probably do it like an old pioneers journal or letter to home. You know like:
Pa,

Today has been harder than yesterday, without any communication with the outside world I darn near think I've been rekilectin' those days by the river where you'd take me a fishin' and teach me how to survive in the wilderness if I ever had to. Well Pa, this is worse.

Etc. Etc.

Blah blah blah, the worlds tiniest violin, playing just for you.

But that is not how this post goes.

This post goes like: Sunday night I came back to school from home, only to realize that I had left my phone charger in Reagans car.

See it starts off the same, but ends very differently.

Two nights ago, I assumed that my phone would be dead in a matter of minutes, seeing as how it was flashing the little help-me-I'm-dying thingy up in the corner (Yes, that's the technical term). I shed a tiny tear of unearthly sadness. I would be cut off from the world for what would seem like an eternity.

But today, for some weird reason, I looked at my phone, perhaps out of habit, and it was still on.

What? How can this be? Is it some sort of miracle?

I saw that I had a number of texts, quickly responded to them, and waited for it to die a heroes death.

I checked it a few minutes later, and someone had responded, to my response. Confused, I responded to that response to my response, and waited for it to slowly die a heroes death.

But I kept getting texts.

I continuously checked it through out the day, and while it still blinked "Battery Low" but even still, it lasted for hours and hours later.

It was seriously the weirdest thing ever. It was like Hanukkah, but for my cell phone.

I cannot stress how weird it was. I mean, this phone should have been dead a long time ago, but it was still alive and kicking.

And this is where I could relate it to something deep, but I really don't feel like it. Make your own meaningful connections, lazy!

But yeah, it's dead now. All good things must come to an and, and everything that lives must die. But like the phoenix, it shall rise again from the flame of its destruction. I have faith in you little crappy phoenix phone.

I'm pretty sure this qualifies as my obligatory "Kirsten Johnson my phone is dead. If you're trying to get a hold of me catch me on here" status. But like I said, it'd be pretentious since there are only like 4 people I text who I don't see on a regular basis.

Meh. I might die. This shall indeed be very difficult.

Not that you really cared, or anything.

I've changed.

I'm not sure when or how but I have. It's been recent. And the thing is that it's for the better. Most change is. Why then, do we hate change so much? Because I know that I certainly do.

It's kind of like working out. I dread doing it. I put it off, or just plain don't do it at all. I don't know why, because when I do work out, I really enjoy it and I feel awesome. Not saying that sometimes it doesn't hurt, but the end result is worth it. That's what change is for me.

My transformation has recently been called to my attention. And by recently, I mean like five minutes ago. I have always been more self-aware than most people, but for some reason I'd blinded myself to the entirety of my metamorphosis if you will. But once I realized it, I don't know how I missed it.

-I like Taylor Swift.

If you know anything about me, you know that I used to harbor a deep hatred for her music. However, slowly, she's crept into my life. And I've decided not to fight it. I know some people will judge me, and others will stand up and applaud the fact that this hopeless romantic finally stopped fighting the sappy music that her soul so desired, but whatever, I don't really care.

-I love Nick Jonas.

I don't think this is a surprise to anyone. I've recently started introducing myself to people by saying "Hi, I'm Kirsten, I love Nick Jonas." It's a 180 from the Kirsten who hated the Jonas Brothers for no apparent reason. No, it's not the highest quality music, but that doesn't mean that they should die. But back to Nick. Seriously? Have you seen him?

http://allieiswired.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/04/nick-jonas-does-parade-magazine.jpg

Kind of a stud. And by "kind of", I mean, 100% and completely, and by "stud" I mean the most beautiful creature to ever walk the earth. And have you heard any of his Les Mis stuff? Please don't tell me that he's not talented. He's the Jo Bro with the skills and the talent, and he totally knows that the whole Disney Charade is a joke. You can see it in his eyes.

(Ok, I did a search, looking for one of those imfamous pictures where you can tell that Joe and Kevin are taking it way too seriously, and Nick is just like "these guys..." but I came up with this instead.)

http://www.disneydreaming.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/Jonas-Brothers-Billboard-Chart.png

Shall we examine this? We'll start with Kevin. Sweet little Kevin. He's so earnest. He's usually the background of my phone, because of the ridiculous faces he makes, that amuse me so. Sometimes I watch his antics and wonder, "What does his wife think?". Does she find it endearing? Is she embarrassed? Does she choose not to pay attention to Camp Rock 2? Because I would if I were her.

Let's move on to Nick. Beautiful, beautiful Nick. Look into his gorgeous dark eyes. You can see it all there. "Hey guys, would you like so coat tales to ride? Yeah, I made these guys." He's 100% aware that the whole Disney thing is just a place holder. A place to get his extremely talented foot in the door. He's just waiting, and slowly building up his Administration, so he can take over the world with his skill... Ok, maybe not that far, but you get the idea. I could continue talking about him, but I'll refrain. You're welcome.

And now, the main event. The thing that makes you laugh harder than you've laughed in a long time. Joe. Oooohhohohoho Joe. First off, why? Why are you looking in the mirror like that? And on top of that, why is there a mirror in this picture? Who decided that it'd be a good idea? "Hey, let's put a mirror in this picture, and have Joe look at himself in it. Yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

Wow. Tangent. In the highest form. I should win a medal or something.

But anyway. Back to what this is actually supposed to be about.

You can judge me, or whatever but I really don't care. Because what I think I've realized is that I'm ok with myself. I'm cool with the fact that I enjoy Taylor Swifts cheesy, girly music. I'm cool with the fact that I have a crush on a Disney star. And the thing is that if I can be ok with those things, I can be ok with a lot of things.

I'd recently been frustrated with myself, and my apparent inability to attract male attention. Or, rather my inability to attract a guy who isn't totally the opposite of what I want. People have been entering first-quarter-of-college relationships, which in my opinion is one of the dumbest things ever. And despite everything that I knew, I couldn't help but feel like there was something wrong with me. Like the fact that a guy wasn't on his knees professing his eternal love to me meant that I was a romantic dud.

But hey, I really enjoy being single, and for the first time in a long time, I'm happy with myself. But the thing is that it's taken me a while to recognize that in myself. Would I like someone to like me, or think I'm pretty or that the sun shone out of my ass (goodness I adore that movie)? Yes, I think everyone wants that. But I don't need it. I'm good with myself, and so I'm going to wait for something and someone truly remarkable to sweep me off my feet. Yes, I just used that phrase. Someone whose smart and funny and loves the Lord and I honestly wouldn't mind one tiny bit if he looked a little like Nick Jonas.

Ok, that was like word-vomity. Sorry. Sometimes you gotta clean the pipes.

Sunchips bags

Don't play like that, you know exactly what I'm talking about.

Recently, the Frito Lay product Sunchips came out with a compostable bag. (Yes, compostable. It's not a real word, but it's what it says on the back of the bag. I thought the same thing.) It's an over all good idea. Save the environment and what not. Good for you, guys.

But we all remember that first time, reaching for the Sunchips bag at Kroger and having the entire store look at you for the ruckus you've caused. You've disturbed the peace, you may have even torn a hole in the time space continuum with that noise. Put the Sunchips bag down, sonny, it's better this way.

That bag is loud man. For real. Like, louder than an inanimate object should ever be. So loud, that we have a rule in our dorm. "Do not eat Sunchips while someone is sleeping." It's hard core.

I can imagine the scientist in the lab that day.

Scientist #1: Hey, we've created a compostable bag. But it's louder than that time the Beatles were on Ed Sullivan.

Scientist #2: Let's keep it that way just to mess with people.

This incredibly loud bag, mixed with the fact that I love Harvest Cheddar Sunchips more that oxygen, often times creates a dilemma with me. I hate you Sunchips bag. I hate you with a burning passion. Why are you so loud? Why do you make it impossible for me to eat Sunchips in peace? Why do you insist on making my life as awkward as possible?

My most recent encounter with a Sunchips bag happened yesterday.

I was in the store, hoping to find something nomy to nom on. The C-Store (The convenient store on campus. Way to be super clever WSU) is usually out of Harvest Cheddar Sunchips, which makes my soul sad. But not this time. It took a second glance, since it was in a pink bag, supporting Susan G. Koman for the Cure, but lo and behold, in all it's glory, there sat my favorite thing in the whole world. I reach for it, knowing that the inevitable is coming. Closer, closer and closer until I finally latch on to it, holding my breath.

And nothing. Not the obnoxious sound I had come to expect.

At first I was happy. Hooray! No horrid noise every time I want to enjoy my favorite multi grain corn chip. But slowly, the sinking feeling that something was wrong set in. I didn't feel the release I had hoped for. I didn't enjoy the fact that the bag didn't make me want to punch holes in the walls. It was an emptiness, as if the obnoxious crunching sound of the unknown material was filling up some sort of void in me, and it was now absent, leaving a vacuous hole in my soul.

What would life be without them? How many laughs to the ensue? How many awkward silences to they make more awkward? How else would you know if someone is touching your Sunchips?

With this on my mind, I purchased the silent bag, and trudged back to my dorm.

But then, the skys opened up and voices from heaven rained down.

Nah, not really, I just read the back of the bag.

It was talking about how the pink bag supports breast cancer research, and that it was NOT a compostable bag, and if you wanted to buy a compostable bag, look for the not pink bag.

Oh, you tricked me Sunchips. Making me think that my soul was slowly withering away.

But sometimes it take something like that to make you realize what you have.

And yeah, that was my cheesy attempt to make this post have some kind of substance.

But side note, don't you find it odd that you can either support breast cancer research or save the environment? Why can't we do both at the same time, huh, Sunchip bag people?

p.s. I'm pretty sure that those bags don't even decompose.

Douchebags

In every social setting, there can be found different types of people. College is no different. And while the distinction and segregation of people is less than in the adolescent world, there is one type of person that always has, and always will be around.

I'm talking about, of course, the douchebag.

You might be asking, "What is a douchebag?". Urban Dictionary defines a douchebag as: An individual who has an over-inflated sense of self worth, compounded by a low level of intelligence, behaving ridiculously in front of colleagues with no sense of how moronic he appears.

Ironically enough, the word "Intelligence" was misspelled on the UD sight. Lolyers.

The douchebag is usually pretty easy to spot, thanks to these helpful indicators.

- Tapout. If you're walking down the street and you see a white male, dressed in Tapout clothing of any kind, avoid at all cost. This brand has become a womans best friend, it's like a date rape alert system. Thanks Tapout, for letting me know that this guy will verbally harass me, before it happens.

-Sideways trucker hat. I have nothing against baseball hats, if you're actually playing baseball. I make the distinction between a regular baseball cap and a trucker hat for one main reason. While I'm repulsed by the wearing of billed hats for the most part, there are a select few, who can pull it off. But you have to have a certain level of non-douche. But only if it's a regular baseball hat. Perhaps for a team that you violently support, or if it carries sentimental value. Backwards or forwards, is alright, if you meet the qualifiers. You cannot wear it sideways. Thats a dead give away. It says to the world "Yeah, I know I'm supposed to wear this a certain way, but I'm a rebel. Take THAT!" Take that hat off of your buzzed head, you are not a rebel.
-Bling. I'm pretty sure that we're calling it bling now. Maybe ice, or frosting? I try to keep up with the crazy kids. But in any event, this is a new indicator that I've recently discovered. If he wears large diamond studs in his ears, he might be a douchebag. If he wears multiple necklaces, he might be a douchebag. If he wears a rosary, and is not Catholic, he might be a douchebag. The list goes on and on.

- Sports Shirts. No, sir, you are not LeBron James. I don't know what would possess you to think that you are. Alright, I'll just say that not all guys who wear sports shirts are douchebags, (a friend and I do however have bad experience with the LeBron jersey,) There are different levels. If you see a group of guys all wearing sports paraphernalia of teams to which they do not belong, you can pretty much bank on them all being jerks. If you see a guy in a Kaká jersey, he'll probably be a really cool guy. Pretty much everything in between is pretty difficult to discern.

While all of these things are characteristics of a douchebag, I have recently learned that it is not always as easy as I had previously thought. I have discovered the sneaky douchebag. This guy does not don himself in Tapout clothing, or possess any "swag", but he might be the king douche. You have to look out for these kinds of guys. And while there is no hard and fast way to detect these kinds of sneaky douchebags, the eyes usually give him away. Make sure you look in his eyes, people. There'll be a look there that says "Yeah, I'm awesome. The sun rose this morning because I'm awesome. The plants turn carbon dioxide into oxygen because I'm awesome. Look at me while I sit here, arms crossed, pushing out my awesome muscles. I'm awesome."

The reciprocal is true. Sometimes a guy will have every the outward trait of a douche, but if you really look in his eyes, you'll see something quite the opposite. Take cute-arm-compression-guy from WSU. He dressed like a douche, he hangs out with douches, but if you really look in his eyes you see that he disproves of their douchey shenanigans, their obnoxious behavior and the fact that they talk at a normal volume the entire duration of a Sociology class.

Yes, this is to you, Soc class douchebags! I thought there were only two of you, but somehow, today I got stuck behind, next to and in front of the most incomprehensible idiots I have ever encountered. It's partly my own fault. I don't get to class early enough to get a good seat closer to the professor, but for the love of all that is good and pure in this world, could you please shut you incredibly chapped mouth for an hour and half? It's not that hard. If I can be quiet for that long, anyone can. I know that what you have to say is INCREDIBLY important, but everyone around you wants to rip your Claires earing from your ears and stab you repeatedly in the jugular.

Thank you.

The crack head who scheduled me first quarter

Ok, so I think to show the strength of my happiness right now, I should make a list of things that are in my life before I start complaining.

In no particular order:

I love college. Like seriously. I didn't think I could love school this much. It's pretty sweet. All you young'ins be looking forward to it.

My friends are pretty boss. I've met some truly extraordinary people.

I'm going home this weekend to see my momma, seesters, brover, my grandparents, my amazing amazing cousins and the love of my life, Emily. I'm also going to be seeing my Acting Up loves in Wizard. Oh, and I'm also going to be hanging out with one Katherine Pedigo. This might be the best weekend ever.

I recently discovered my copy of The Screwtape Letters and upon smelling it (yes, smelling it) I have resolved that it smells exactly like Clive himself.

I'm currently drinking some really delicious chocolate milk.

I'd been praying a lot about finding a good church to get with before I was here on campus. I kinda stressed about it a lot, but then God was like "Oh hey Kirsten, you silly girl. Why do you worry about these things? I got this one." *Plops Crosswalk in my lap* Thanks God! You're like, the coolest, no lie.

I watched the Deathly Hallows Part 1 trailer and BY GREAT THORS HAMMER THAT WAS AMAZING! I have never been this excited for a move. Ever.

I also started rereading Deathly Hallows for the 85th time. And I guess I'd forgotten how much I love Harry Potter in the rush that is college, but now I remember. OOOOHHH do I remember. I'll shout it from the roof tops. I. LOVE. HARRY. POTTER.

Also, I just looked in the mirror, and my hair looks kind of fabulous today. Thanks hair.

But, what would I be, if I wasn't a pessimist?

Well, an optimist, I guess. Which would be preferable at times I suppose. But where's the fun in that?

Everywhere, you respond.

But whatever. Now onto the things that are not good. The list is less extensive, but knowing me I'll dwell on the awful.

My roommate, Catie, God love her, is ill. Now before you assume that my life is gloomy because of friends ailments, allow me to say that because she's sick, she snores. Thusly I have not been able to get adequate sleep. Wa wa wa. But now, because I was a jerk about it, I think I'm coming down with whatever she had/has. Come on golden immune system, don't fail me now.

Also, I over slept this morning. I over slept for my only class of the day. I over slept for my only class of the day that begins at 8:30 in the morning. So now I don't have anything today. I guess I'll use my time to finish my English assignment... or maybe blog. Yeah, I think I'll blog. That sounds like a more productive use of my time.

But who schedules one class for the day? Like, for real? I'm sure my academic advisor is super nice and everything, but who sits there and says "Hey, lets give this person on class super early and then nothing else for the rest of the day."

Do your homework, Kirsten. Get involved in something, Kirsten. Get a job, Kirsten.

Hey tiny voice of reason! You keep out of this. I'm complaining!

So now that I nothing to do today I'll probably end up doing my English essay, read Deathly Hallows and grumble about missing Soc class.

Meh. Not amused. I really enjoy my sociology class. The teacher is interesting and provocative, and I can't wait to get into a real discussion with her because I can already tell that a lot of her ideas are the polar opposite of my own. And seriously, I spend an hour and a half studying people. For a creeper like me, there's nothing better. I'm no Ravenclaw, but I do enjoy learning, and if there's any part of school that I do like it's the actual lecture.

So when I guess that was the first college class I skipped. I should take a picture and put it up next to my clay hand print form Kindergarten and Orchids. Milestones baby.

That guy standing in the Quad yelling at people

Ok, I'm really riled about this, and it just happened to me, so forgive any grammatical errors that I'm sure will occur.
So you know that guy who was going to burn the Quran? yeah, I think I just met his cousin or something.
I'm walking to the library, which, according to an upper classman I talked to moments before this happened, automatically stamps the word FRESHMAN on my forehead. I'm on my merry little way when I see this middle aged guy standing on the raised grass in the quad, holding a bible, yelling.
Oh crap.
First off, anyone who carries a bible in their hand and makes a fool of themselves makes me want to punch babies. Seriously. Could you try to be articulate about your beliefs and not just solidify the notion that all Christians are idiots?
As he continues to yell about nothing in particular, I see that a few recognizable people from the WSU "Free Thought Club" were gathering around.
My thoughts on the Free Thought Club: I find it somewhat ironic that they advertise for "free thought" yet only adhere to the atheist/agnostic view. What if I'm a Muslim who loves free thought. Or a Christian who loves free thought? Am I not allowed in? So they should really just call themselves the Atheist/Agnostic club. That makes a lot more sense.
Ok, back to the incident. I see that this guy is screaming at one of the free thought kids. Way to be the mature one there, buddy.
I pass by. Don't make eye contact. Don't associate with this guy.
I say a little prayer, "God, please just let this guy shut up soon."
But as I'm approaching the library a thought pops into my head. Go back. Oh hey there little voice in my head that convinces me to make right choices. Nice to hear from you again.
So, I go back, not really sure of what I'm going to say. Maybe I'll chastise him for being such a poor representation of Christ. Maybe I'll tell him that he makes me sad and walk away justified.
When I get there he is still screaming at this guy. Crazy dude is trying to explain the dead sea scrolls in a really awful way, and free thought guy is just screaming "JESUS ISN'T REAL! JESUS ISN'T REAL!"
Is this what Jesus had in mind when he said "Go into all the world and preach the gospel." Two incredibly closed minded people in a screaming match. Neither one able to convince the other? That doesn't remind me of Jesus at all.
In the midst of this, I raise my hand (once again, probably labeling me as a freshman) and very politely ask "Can I ask you something?"
"Hang on!' he yells at me, and turns back to continue his pointless argument.
A few more people gather around, a few start trolling him. "Do gingers have souls?" "Let's start a rousing chorus of 'God Dammit'".
"You should wash your mouth out with soap!" He replies. I really have no point to make with this one, I just thought it was funny. I mean, seriously, who even says that?
He continues with his screaming. He's red in the face as he makes a really poorly constructed argument. Ugh. Come on, this one is so easy dude. But because he's yelling and arguing, no one will even listen to try to understand his point. Way to be weird yelling guy.
But once I get my chance to talk to him, I don't really know what to say, so I kind of just wing it.
"Do you really think this is an effective way to reach these people for Christ?"
He immediately gets defensive. "Oh," he yells "So what are you? A Muslim, and Atheist?"
"I'm a Christ Follower."
He looks at me like he didn't understand what I had said.
"A Christ Follower?"
"Yes, and i really don't think this is an effective way to get people to listen to the gospel. You're making me really sad."
Then he goes off at me. Yelling about how this is exactly what Paul did and Peter and even Jesus. he made claims that I hadn't read the story of Paul and even that I hadn't read the bible. I try to continue a real conversation with him, but all he does is yell.
This guy sitting on the stone wall next to me, just looks at me and says "He's just trying to piss you off."
"Yeah, he is pissing me off."
He was pissing every body off.
I felt pretty helpless, in that situation. I mean, he wasn't listening to me. Every time I tried to speak, even going as far as saying "Can you be quiet and let me talk?" he shut me down. It was as if he were incapable of hearing anything but his own voice.
"Do you know why I do this?!" He screams at me "Because for four years no Christians shared the gospel with me!"
"That's very sad." I reply calmly.
"Yes, it is." and it's almost as if he hadn't expected anyone to reply that way.
And in that moment when his face relaxed, I saw how much tension and hatred had been held there.
Just as I thought this, a girl behind me chimes in.
"You gotta do it out of love!"
"What's that?" the man yells. It's kind of like he has no other register.
"Out of love man. You can't be screaming at everybody who disagrees with you. That's not what Jesus did."
"And you know what Jesus did?! Have you read the bible?!"
"Yes! I have, I carry my bible with me!"
And there she goes, pulling out the sword. She carries, not the pocket bible. Not just the New Testament. She doesn't have it on her iPod or Blackberry. Huge, in a leather case, and most likely filled with papers and notes, comes her bible from her purse. Way to be awesome girl.
What happened next truly surprised me.
Applause.
The crowd of "Free thinkers" and Christians alike were applauding this wonderful, strong, brave sister of mine.
The soap box guy, however was not.
"Have you read it cover to cover?!" he shouts.
"Yes, I have."
"Then you know what Jesus and Peter and Paul did! They did exactly what I'm doing now."
"No, they didn't. They did it out of love. There is no love here." Then she addresses the crowd. "Y'all need to leave. He's just trying to make you angry. You gotta do it out of love."
As she walks away, this guy who is trying to 'profess' Christ, hurls out insults at her.
"Oh, so you're a bible scholar? You've read the whole bible? You know everything?" Every word out of his mouth is cutting and condescending.
"No," she turns "I'm just a Christ Follower."
Holy crap, do I love this person!
And then I realized why I had to go back. Did I change the heart of that guy? No. Probably not. He's probably going to be there more throughout the year, and probably at other universities. But maybe we might have reached someone in that crowd. Or maybe not. Maybe someone saw that not all "Christians" are raving, chemically imbalanced, unreasonable lunatics. Or maybe not. But something might have started. And that's all that matters.
She really couldn't have said it any better. You gotta do it out of love. That's the thing that will make the differance in someones life. Did Jesus stand on hills preaching? Yes. But he did it out of love. And so did Paul, and so did Peter and every other great saint who professed Christ. Because that's really what Jesus is all about. "For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through Him." John 3:17.
I don't know that girl who pulled out her bible, but everything that she said were all the things that I wanted to say, but didn't know how. I don't know two things about her, except that she's my sister. And that's all it took for something to maybe start.

Facebook overshare

Facebook might be the greatest invention of all time.

Ok, maybe and an elaboration, but I do love facebook. Oh, book of face, the songs I could write to you and your time wasting, creep inducing shenanigans. You're my best friend.

I was recently involved in one of those "icebreaker" games where you try to find people in the room who could match up to a phrase on a page. One of them was "Does not have a facebook." I couldn't find anyone. We eventually had to just remove that part from the page, since everyone in the whole freaking world has facebook.

But there are some things I don't like about it. Over share. Apparently some people lack the tact to not jut put whatever enters their mind on the internet. It's destroying our ability to communicate in that respect. (But I still love it. A main motif of this post is Kirsten love facebook.)

Maybe as a society we've lost all sense of propriety but some of the things I see there, posted by people who I know to be intelligent, make me want to vomit.

I have comprised a list of thing I do not want to see. You should abide by them. Because, you know... your world revolves around me. Obviously.

1. Kissing picture.

Ok, I know you think you and your girlfriend are sooooo cutteeeee and that picture of you two making out is proof of your true love, but no one else wants to see that. Its just kind of trashy. No, it's actually really trashy. Just please, I think I speak for everyone when I say, take that picture down. I assure you, no one wants to see your tongue down her throat.

2. The passive aggressive status.

Don't get me wrong, I'm a huge fan of passive aggression. I use it regularly in many different forms, but the thing about being passive aggressive is that you should really do it in person, or it looses all effect. Nothing can beat the satisfaction of a perfectly executed "Hey, can you, like, be quiet? Thanks." to a couple of douche lords in sociology class. But on facebook its just weird. We all know the status is directed toward someone. When you put it as your status it just means you want the world to see you do it. And putting it on the internet takes the personal value away from the cathartic action. It either means you're afraid to actually say it to the person at whom you are mad, or you just want attention. Neither of which are admirable.

3. The over sharing status.

I am a creep. And I enjoy it when I know exactly whats going on in your life, but I assure you that its purely for my own entertainment. Its kind of like watching Secret Life of the American Teenager. It's painful, I mock and I'm reminded of how much I enjoy possessing tact. Ok, we get it, you broke up with your boyfriend. You're sad. You're sorry. Tell him for goodness sake! Don't tell us. We really don't care that much. Yeah, yeah, you're missin' your girl. Is that seriously all you're doing? Really? Your whole life revolves around missing this person? Take my advice and tell her. She'll really appropriate it, I promise.

And likewise, going along with the over share, we do not need your itinerary for the day. We do not care that you are going to school, then the gym, then homework, then hangin' wit your girls then idk. If anyone cared that much about your day they would ask.

4. The cheesy song lyric.

I am not soulless. I really enjoy having song lyrics as my status. I particularly enjoy it if it relates to a specific moment or event in my life. But I feel like theres a certain point. Don't post heartbroken lyrics. Thats just desperate and makes everyone feel awkward. Especially the person you mean to see it. Because they know... they always know. Trust me. Just because it's a song doesn't make your decision to post them any less intentional.

And please, do not post the lyrics to California Gurls unless you are actually from California. I shouldn't have to explain why I felt the need to say this.

5. Miscellaneous.

If you're 10, you probably shouldn't have a facebook. If you're on farmvilve, please don't send me invites, and know that you're most likely blocked from my news feed. If you're sad about something, go talk to someone. Don't vomit on the internet. If you must picnic, please make it classy.

Well boys and girls, that's all. Happy Facebooking. Try not to annoy me.

*Insert title of your choosing here*

I am an attractive person. This was made perfectly clear by the creeper in the WSU tunnel system today.

I was descending the stairs from the library to the basement when I hear something weird. I think it's coming from my bag so I look behind me only to see a guy right behind me. I'm somewhat startled but he starts laughing at me so I laugh back. I explain that I thought my bag was making a weird noise and that I didn't hear him, thus the startledness. He smiles, I smile, I hold the door for him, awkward interaction over.

As I make my way to the exit closest to my dorm I think he's behind me again. It's like when you say goodbye to someone and then you start walking the same direction. Ok, scratch that. It's exactly that. It's awkward and while I tend to cause a lot of awkward situations, I'm not the biggest fan of them.

Only it's not the same dude. It's a much smaller creepier guy, who when he passes me, looks me up and down and said "Oh, you cute, you real pretty."

Reeeally? I had no idea. Thanks, my self esteem is all boosted up now thanks to you. Do you have a horse? or perhaps an private island to which you want whisk me off ?

I give him a placating nod and try my hardest to fall back, giving a reasonable distance between us. All the while replaying Buffy combat sequences in my head.

Gee, thanks really creepy guy. That means a lot. I know these things. I have a symmetrical face and a nice rack. It's the way the world turns.

Now please don't assume that I say these tings with any amount of pride. I see very little point in taking credit for, or even being prideful over something that I don't control in the least. I've never understood why a certain face or body type is attractive to people. I once had a completely half baked theory that we are attracted to "beautiful" people so we can have good looking kids. But for what? So they can mate and have even better looking kids? So that in the end everyone is attractive? That really makes zero sense. It's superficial and stupid and if taken as a logical fact, one could conclude that our entire purpose in life is to be attractive. As far as I know being good looking really has no survival value past the one we place on it.

So rather than being flattered that some weird college kid found me attractive, I was somewhat offended. I would have been more flattered if he would have said "Wow, you're really smart." Or "You have such a winning personality." But I guess that can't be seen. (Actually I would have preferred it if he would have said "You have bewitched me body and soul and I love... I love... I love you." And if he looked like Nick Jonas. On a horse. In Knights armor.) But circumstances as they were, I began to think. Shocker.

I've always been relatively attractive. I could never control that. I mean, seriously, if you know my mother, she's smokin'. But I never put any stock into it. Maybe I was raised this way, but who I actually am just seems infinity more important.

It bothers me to no end when a "pretty" person gets away with being a complete moron. For some reason physical appearance outweighs mental capacity. There are these two African American kids on Wright States campus who wear blue colored contacts. Ok, first off, I cannot think of anything more stupid than colored contacts. Especially for these guys. Seriously, I know your eyes are brown. Your poor skill with putting them in leaves the real color poking out.

At the risk of being a total creeper I won't name names, but the most beautiful people I know are the ones who are beautiful on the inside. And yes, I know that like the corniest thing ever, but it's true. I think that compassion, wit, courage, patience and honor are much more valuable to a person than something as fleeting as looks. Because in all actuality, our physical appearance diminishes. One day I might be as fat as a cow with a mustache that I can no longer control. And honestly, there's enough of the world in me that the idea kind of scares me, but when I really think about it, I think I'd be ok with it. Because I know that deep down I've always had the personality of an ugly girl in a pretty girls body. I guess thats what I'd call it, the people who I really like. The personality of an ugly person. Because your stereotypical"pretty" person is rude, mean, self-centered and stupid. So if I really think about it, I'd rather be not so "cute," (Oh, I could rant about the word cute. And probably will someday).

So yeah... I can't really think of anything meaningful or clever to say for a close, so insert clever statement of your choosing here.

My forsight of a 12 year old

Hello there blog. Haven't seen you in a while.

I've been super busy, with moving into WSU and partying like it's 1999. (Just kidding, but I am having fun) And thusly my blogging has suffered. So if you're one of the 2 people besides my mother who reads this, and actually cares, I'm sorry.

But yeah, college. Kind of a big deal I guess. It's pretty awesome. I adore my roommates and have met some pretty boss people. So far it's been pretty stellar, but then again, classes have yet to start. Catch me in a few days, then see how I feel.

Anyone whose ever moved into a dorm, knows that packing is stressful. Ok, that's an understatement, it's like ripping your teeth out one by one whilst attempting to do that tap dance from singing in the rain. Painful and frustrating. It's even more frustrating when you spend upwards of two days preparing, only to arrive at my dorm and realize that I have forgotten something incredibly vital.

The first night, there came a point when I was ready to get out of my jeans, but not quite ready for pajamas. It's that hour before bed where sweat pants are the worlds most perfect invention. I would say that I call it the sweat pants hour, but that would be lying. I hadn't put that much thought into it.

As you can probably guess, I forgot them. Completely forgot anything resembling sweat pants.

I then put it on the mental list of things I've forgotten.

The list is extensive. And sad. And embarrassing. But here goes.

Sweat pants *mentioned above

Hoodies

Socks

Shampoo

Socks

Foundation

Eyeliner

Flip flops

Chapstick (Seriously, I'm dying here)

Nail polish remover

Sunglasses

Arrested Development DVDs

Water bottle

My cactus

knives

Body wash

Cardigans

Laundry detergent

Laundry basket

I'm sure the list is longer, but this is everything I can think of at this moment.

I did however remember to bring:

Harry Potter books 1 and 7

The Element Encyclopedia of Magical Creatures

A very expensive tin of tea and steeper

Sweaters (Very weather appropriate, I know)

And thats about every random thing I can think of. Awesome.

So at this point every stupid thing I forget I just get more angry. And since I can't really do anything about it, and I'm super awkward, I kind of just internalize it and it becomes entertaining to all around. So I guess, at least there's that.

Elves

Let me first just say that this has become much more therapeutic than I had originally intended. Everyone should blog.

Allow me to also say, that it's become very not what I had imagined at all. Instead of a spewing list of negatives, I find myself wanting just to write about everything.

Scenario.

I'm sitting in church this morning, and the preacher says something that really gets me thinking.

I should blog about this. I think quietly to myself, if there is any other way to think.

But Kirsten, says that annoying voice in my head your blog is about things you don't like. remember? It then proceeds to do an annoying little dance as it sings "Na na na na na na!" repeatedly. It's a really annoying little voice.

Well, this post is about you, tiny dancing elf creature that crushes my dreams. This is MY blog and I'll do with it what I please. Thank you very much.

So. My story.

I'm currently attending Crossroads community church in Oakly. I really love it, and currently they're doing the Faithful series. It's about people in the bible who, despite every criticism, doubt or persecution, remained faithful to the God they believed to be faithful. Oh yeah, and they incorporate super heroes. Just when you thought church was boring.

So, needless to say, it's kind of epic, and I'm really really enjoying it.

Today Bryan Tome (woop woop) talked about Peter. I have always loved Peter, seriously. He might be one of the coolest dudes in the bible. He is by no means perfect, but he displays faith in everything that he does. He was a fisherman, which was the biblical equivalent to a plumber as far as station goes. He was probably crude, rough and lacked any sort of tack, but yet he's one of the men closest to Jesus. I think thats so incredibly cool.

So I have a lot of thoughts on Peter today.

Bryan told the story of Peter walking on the water today. And I kind of took it to a place that he didn't. He used it as an example that even the best of us loose our faith in the storms of life, but I saw it as a metaphor for a walk with God.

So here's how it goes down. Jesus is praying on a hill. His buddies are down on the lake in a boat. They're probably all jazzed to be on that boat, when all of a sudden this horrid storm starts up. Oh noes! We're on a boat and we're probably going to die. But wait! What's that. Is that some dude out on the water? Psh. No. That's crazy. It's probably some sea monster come to swallow us whole or a witch come to skin us alive. Lets cower in fear some more. But what they don't know is it's their pall Jesus. He's all "Take courage! It is I. Don't be afraid." "What is this nonsense?" the disciples are probably thinking. People can't walk on water. That's against the laws of physics. But it's Jesus, and he invented water, so he can do whatever the heck he wants with it. *Does the Jesus is so cool dance*. So while all of his other friends are cowering in fear on the boat, Peter makes a huge choice. He's is going to get up off his butt and go to Jesus. Which is where the metaphoring begins. To follow Christ, you have to make a conscious choice to not be passive and go. No matter how crazy it may seem. So Peters walking on the water, going to his BFF Jesus when he stops, looks around and probably realizes that he's walking on freaking water in the middle of a pretty awful storm. He freezes, takes his focus off Jesus, and is distracted by all the scary crap around him. He begins to sink. This is where most people would consider Peter faithless, and albeit, Jesus does refer to him as "You of little faith" but I think the more important indicator of Peters character is seen just a few words down. He cries out for Jesus to save him. Even though he lost faith for a moment, he knows that Christ is right there and will save him. It's like us in our lives. We're on this completely amazing walk with God, totally focussed on him. It's not till we take our eyes off of the real goal, and look around all the awfulness that we lose faith. Now this isn't saying that we should ignore all the bad things in life. I'm pretty sure Peter wasn't completely delusional, thinking he's having a lovely stroll in the park. He probably knew that what he was doing was crazy. But he had his eyes on Jesus, and with that in his vision, everything else seemed so powerless. And just like Peter, when we start to panic over the things of this world, we do sink. We lose faith. But we should take a cue from Peter. He didn't really lose faith. He just forgot it for a moment. He cries out to Jesus to save him, and because He's Jesus, He did. And does for us.

Yes, that is how I tell bible stories. Get over it.

Believe it or not, that was not the main point I'm trying to make in this post. I'm just incredibly long winded.

What really stuck with me was the story of catching all the fish. Here's the condensed version.

Jesus: Hey Peter, lets go see if we can catch any fish.

Peter: Uh, Jesus, I'm kind of a really good fisher, and I was out all night and hardly caught anything, so I don't think we're going to have much luck this time... But I guess if you say so.

Jesus: Awesome.

They go out onto the lake, catch a butt load of fish. They can't even bring it in by themselves. Once they get to shore Peter kneels down and says: Get away from me, I am a sinful man. I'm not worthy.

This really never stuck with me until this morning. Bryan was talking about how a lot of people were probably there. Peter could have easily taken all the glory for himself and just kept quiet. Instead he realizes that Jesus is a holy man, because as a fisherman he recognizes what he just witnessed as a miracle.
This got me thinking. How many times do I give God the glory in my life. Recently a lot of crappy things have happened to me, and upon reflection, I realize that I have no problem giving God the credit there.

"Yeah, everything is rough, but God has a plan, and this is happening for a reason."

How many times have we used that generic line. God has a plan. I'm not discrediting the thought, because it's totally true. If this year has taught me anything it's that God works all things for good for those who love Him. But I honestly can't remember the last time I gave Him credit for a blessing thats been accomplished through me. I really want that to change. So I challenge the two of you who actually read this, along with myself, to be like Peter, and aggressively peruse God, and give Him His glory. Because I'm pretty sure He likes that.

That one Verizon commercial

“Air has no prejudice, it does not carry the opinions of a man faster than those of a woman, it does not filter out an idea, because I’m 16 not 30, Air is unaware if I’m black or white, and wouldn’t care if it knew.

So it stands to reason, my ideas will be powerful, if they are wise, infectious, if they are worthy, and if my thoughts have flawless delivery, I can lead the army that will follow.“

Anyone recognize this? It's the script for a recent Verizon commercial.

Now the words are all well and good. An over all message of inspiration. That's really what air should be. It's the beauty of the free press, and more recently the domain of the internet and digital media. Anyone can say anything they want without restriction. Represent.

However I do have a major beef with this commercial. I remember the first time I saw it I couldn't quite figure out what bothered me about it. The delivery is contrived, but that's not it. The music makes me feel like I'm being brainwashed, but that's not it either. It wasn't until I saw it a second time that I realized the glaring issue in it.

While the commercial speaks of diversity, the idea being the most important idea. It states that age and physical appearance are not important. And while it doesn't come right out and say it, the over all thesis of the TEXT is that diversity of community and ideas allows for an awesome world. Thumbs up for that.

But the actual commercial says something entirely different. While it speaks to medley of the human race, the entire commercial is filled, stuffed to the brim with beautiful young women, all under the age of 20. And I shouldn't have to explain why this is a problem.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8C8MlhGNV3c

It's 100% contradictory to the script. And it really bugs me.

And besides the fact that it's one huge digital contradiction, the reasons behind the contradiction reeeeeeaaally gets me. Our culture worships youth. Go on, I dare you to try and disprove that statement. Youth and beauty are so valued today that we go to surgical lengths to preserve them. I have a theory about it. The further away we get, as a culture, from God, the more we cling to these things. Because, there is a part of us, no matter how much a person denies the existence of any kind of god, that knows that we can't do it on our own. This goes beyond physical appearance and seeps in to the realm of safety. Cars, continuously grow safer as the years progress. I once heard of a family moving because their first child was beginning to walk and they feared that their wood floors would prove harmful if he fell. Without God we fear death. And by extension growing old.

Side note. (As if that wasn't one already) I love the movie Up for the very reason. In our world that idolizes ages 15-37, Pixar created a movie that depicts adventure and life beyond that, and personifies it in the Carl and Russell.

And this is where I was going to have the movie poster, but apparently I'm retarded and can't figure out how to get it where I want it. Awesome.

Wow. TANGENT!

But anyway. Where was I? Oh yeah, worshiping youth and beauty.

Seriously. I can't be the only one who noticed this glaring issue. Did no one at Verizon say "Hey guys, maybe we should have some dudes in this commercial. Or, I don't know, someone over the age of 17. Because it makes no sense right now."

Oh you silly Verizon marketing employee. We have a vision here. Don't mess with the totally screwed up vision.

Sleeping in Water

A few weeks ago, my best friend of ten years and I birthed a genius idea. And, like most great ideas, it was conceived in a body of water.

Ladies and Gentlemen, with out any further ado ...

Sleeping in water.

Now, I know that it's the name of the post, so it's really not the grand reveal I had hoped for, but let's look past that technical error and focus on the awesome.

Think about. Have you ever done the dead mans float that we were all so ill advised toward as children. You know, when you float, back up in water. Try it kids. It'll terrify your parents.

But, if you understand my point of reference, you know how incredibly comfortable it is.

Now I know there are some issues to work out, like the whole problem of getting oxygen to your blood stream, but we worked around that. Emily and I ultimately came up with a comfortable face mask that will have access through a tube to an outside oxygen source. A little complex, but you don't revolutionize an entire way of life without making some crazy choices.

Because that is what this is. It's a revolution. Seriously, if you really think about it it would change your lifestyle. In theory, you'd have more energy, more focus, and world peace would finally be obtainable.*

*None of these theories can be proven scientifically.

So basically we planned that there would be a sleeping chamber in a bed room. You know how in scifi movies where the evil scientist has his experiment floating in a glorified fish tank. Yeah, it's like that but without the whole creepy part.

It was a really solid idea. I was already working up the prototype.

But then, as it would turn out, my plan was, once again, foiled.

There were a lot of commas in that last sentence. I'm not entirely sure if it's grammatically correct.

BUT! Back to all my ideas being awful.

Upon taking a dip in my hot tub with my sisters and local recluse, (And by local recluse I mean neighbor kid. It's funny if you know Eben. I promise) my hands became so incredibly pruned beyond all recognition, that it was painful.

I got out of the water and my hands were suddenly on fire. I didn't know that such pain could come from something so incredibly inoffensive. My hands have never been pruned this bad. Like, I got out 45 minutes ago and they're still stinging.

I'm not particularly scientifically minded, but I'm pretty sure that your skin shouldn't be exposed to water for an extended amount of time.

Has anyone else ever had this problem? Like it feels like your skin is going to fall off. Or maybe that tiny holes are being burrowed by tiny demon bugs and being spat on by a camel. It's not terribly pleasant.

And, with a soul searing pain, of both heart and hand, I threw away my dream of revolutionizing the way the world sleeps.

Rest in peace little idea. You never really had the chance to grow and spread your wings. You will be missed.

Miley Cyrus

This really shouldn't come as a shock to anyone. I harbor a deep sense of apathy-hatred toward most celebrities. I see no point in feeding their fire of insanity and fame. With the exception of Lady Gaga, Zefron and the cast of the Harry Potter movies, every famous person could stop functioning as a celebrity and my world would keep on turning. (A world that’s full of happiness, that I have never knooooooown.). On that note, (Pun intended) because of my aversion to most things Disney Channel, I have tried like mad to avoid seeing or hearing anything of Nick Jonas in Les Mis on the West End. So you can imagine my mixed feelings of violent sickness and admiration when I saw this video of him kicking A Little Fall of Rains ass.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VbcHoU7J8IQ&feature=related

But I digress.

Where was I? Oh yeah.

Miley Cyrus might be my all time, least favorite person on this planet. Granted, I don’t know her, and maybe she’s a super nice person, but the chances of that actually being true are extremely small. Hannah Montana literally makes me want to tear my eyes out of my face in a fit of blind rage. Her acting is so incredibly appalling and her voice so unbearably unpleasant, that I am thoroughly convinced that if the show were to never exist; the earth would surely be a better place. The world would know peace, all wars would come to an end, puppies and butterflies would frolic and fly as their respective hearts desired in fields of cotton candy and streams of raspberry lemonade. So needless to say, I avoid anything remotely pertaining to her.

Now, If you know me, you know that I enjoy reading. I've recently rekindled my love of reading, and currently devour any book placed in front of me. I've really only avoided the romance. I tried my hand a Nicholas Sparks but I never really got into it.

Sorry, this is super all over the place, but there's a lot of points that I feel must be made.

Last point.

I have been writing two books for two years now. Right now, I'm super lazy with it, but the stories are constantly going on in my head. One is a trilogy about the aftermath of the fall of America and the vigilantes who try to regain justice in the corrupt empire. It's pretty boss if I do say so myself. The other is more of a chick lit kind of thing. But like chick lit for girls with brains. I'm in love with it. The story is kind of all over the place right now, but the characters are so dear to me. My only real motivation to finish these stories is so other people can know my imaginary friends.

Ronnie is the coolest. She's smart and funny and sarcastic and awkward and getting into her head is awesome.

SO! Not having read the Nicholas Sparks book The Last Song and having a violent dislike for Miley Cyrus, you can imagine my horror when my sister brought home the DVD and the back read that the main characters name is Ronnie...

SERIOUSLY?!

This totally awesome person, who I someday hope to get published will forever be associated with Miley Freaking Cyrus!

I cannot change Ronnie's name. It doesn't work like that. Her name is Ronnie. Her name has been Ronnie fr 17 years. I have zero control over the characters and the things that happen to them. It sounds super stupid and artsy, but thats how it rolls. I'm just the vessel for the story.

You can imagine my disgust when I found this out. I ran from the room in a dramatic flourish to drown my sorrows in a 2 liter of Dr. Pepper.

Secret Life

I haven’t posted in over a week, I feel like a failure of a blogger. So to the 6 people who actually read this, my apologies. But on the bright side, I am currently typing on a macbook with a picture of Rupert Grint and Daniel Radcliffe as the background. So much awesomeness cannot be contained.

But yet somehow it is. Thanks Apple.

But back to me failing at this blog.

I guess I haven’t been feeling all that bitter towards life as of late, which is a good thing for me, bad thing for the life of my internet fame. And by fame, I mean... well nothing.

But something set me off tonight. It was like a complaining beast was awakened inside of me, ready to pounce on the internet and any unsuspecting virtual passers by.

I watched and episode of Secret Life... of the American Teenager. Yeah, I know.

First let me just say, even though this show is slated as one of the top “Guilty Pleasures” I don’t see it as such. It is neither guilty, nor a pleasure. If it were guilty I would not be telling you, the internet, about it. If it were a pleasure I might have to blow my brains out. My desire to watch Secret Life is born purely out of a not-so-secret desire to host The Soup should Joel McHale ever decide to run away with me and ask me to take his job while he stays at home and has my babies.

This show is almost painful to watch. Almost, as in if almost meant completely and wholly. I cannot begin to describe to you how much awkwardness this show brings to my life.

It is the most poorly conceived, poorly executed, poorly produced, poorly acted and poorly written show on television. Ever.

I have a hard time understanding how a person can approve sending one of those episodes out for public consumption.

This past episode, for example, made less sense than anything I’ve ever witnessed.

The writers of this show seem to have a crush on the super long, super awkward, completely unrealistic phone conversation. There’s at least one in every episode. It usually involves Amy, Ricky, Ben or Adrienne and they usually center around the repeating of poorly constructed sentences, attempts to remind the apparently mentally challenged audience of the stagnant plot line and conversation far beyond the maturity level of 16 year olds. These conversations can last up to 2 minutes, which in T.V. phone time is basically an eternity. And when you fill that with awkwardness and repetition you end up with this.

http://www.hulu.com/watch/169794/the-secret-life-of-the-american-teenager-adrian-and-amys-phone-call

Also, if you notice from this clip, they look so perfectly groomed at any moment. It’s completely ridiculous. Like, cut to a scene of Amy and Ashley studying/talking about masturbation and lo and behold their hair is cascading about their shoulders like they’re in a Dove commercial. Their faces get more and more made up as the episodes progress, making their marginally unattractive cast, more unattractive. The fact that they’re on a still set isn’t even attempted to be covered up. They basically all live in IKEA. (Which I wouldn’t mind all that much, as long as these horny creeps weren’t involved.)

But here’s my main beef with the show. The sex. Don’t get me wrong, I’m 18 and I’m not dead so yeah, I think about sex. But for the love of all that is good an holy, is that seriously all the older generation thinks we talk about? Because obviously, the writers of this show seem to think that my generation has no control over our raging hormones and mad passions. Because the only conversations these people have are about sex. If you haven’t seen the show you think I’m elaborating for comedic effect. For those of you who have, please teach them. I kid you not, all they ever think about is getting into each others pants. You’d think that after two of the characters get pregnant, maybe they’d realize that you maybe shouldn't have sex till you’re ready to deal with that responsibility, but no. They still jump into bed with random brunettes. Way to be guys.

Hey, let’s talk about having sex at med camp (way to be creative writers) this summer while my parents are in the next room. Hey, let’s make out, but you should take your shirt off first. (Seriously? Seriously.)

Besides the fact that all they talk about is the freak nasty, and the writing is beyond awful, (I’m serious, like on a scale of 1-Twilight, this beats Breaking Dawn) the plot is SO SLOW. They have one plot point this season, and it’s Adrianne’s pregnancy. 3 episodes where she’s finding out that she’s pregnant. 3 episodes where she’s planning on getting an abortion. A last minute decision to keep the baby and then a whole bunch of episodes where people talk and are jealous and make out and have really long, boring, pointless conversations, in which they repeat themselves.

Shoot me.