In Which I am Giddy

Dear Void,

If you've ever lived somewhere with Namornese winters, you'll understand. (If you caught that incredibly obscure reference, I'll be amazed.)

I live in Utah. Northern Utah. Somwhere around mid-September, a frosty wind will blow in. We put on our jackets and head out anyway. Once October hits, we get frosted (and brown) grass and the trash cans freeze shut. By November, the snow starts.

Snow.

Thanksgiving.

Snow.

Christmas.

Snow.

New Year's.

Snow.

Valentine's Day.

Snow.

St. Patrick's Day.

Snow.

Easter.

Snow.

May Day.

Sunshine?

Snow.

Then, out of nowhere, a blazing hot summer will hit. But after months of shivering in our snow coats and wearing fleece footie pajamas under our clothes (that might have been hyperbole ;) ), we don't mind.

However. Today was one of those days where it doesn't matter what happens, we'll all be happy as clams--well, happy as happy clams. I don't know how happy your average clam is. And who thought that was a good cliche anyway? Why not happy as daisies? Dasies seem happy. Or happy as monkeys? Monkeys seem happy most of the time too...

But I digress.

I walked out of school. I got in my car. And--are you even ready for this?

I TOOK OFF MY JACKET.

And then.

I TURNED ON MY A/C.

And then.

I TURNED OFF MY A/C AND ROLLED DOWN MY WINDOW.

It was miraculous. I love sunshine.

Over&Out

In Which I combine Tidbits to Make a Post

Dear Void,

Sometimes in my life stuff happens and I say to myself, "I should blog about that." And then I don't. Here are a few things I meant to post about:

The Prom Problem
I know what I want to wear. I know there are people I would certainly wish to go with. But fate doesn't seem to like me just now, so I asked my brother if--should I not be asked--he would take me to Prom.

He said NO! Sad face.

But this was at Sunday dinner, so my brother's roomates were there. One of them piped up with an, "ooh! I love Prom! I'll take you!" End of stress. I can now look forward to going with someone from school, or if not, going anyway.

Thanks Jason!

Oreo Friends

"Friendship is like an oreo. You and I are the chocolate cookies, and the white creamy stuff is the love that holds us together." --My friend Anna

One Cup of Complaint?

My mom was looking through her recipies the other day and stumbled across an ingredient list which included,

"1 c. white whine."

I know what they meant... but all I can picture is complaining into a saucepan. Smiley face.

Darn that Stan

Recently a young boy expressed to my sister that he had learned in Church that Jesus has a mean brother named Stan. Probably the best decription of Satan I've ever heard. Not that I've been keeping track. But still. In all seriousness, kind of--avoid Stan. He's real mean.

Hope that brightened your day!
Over&Out

In Which I Share a Smile

This is pretty. :)

I don't really celebrate Valentine's Day because I've never had cause to. Which is fine, my dear friend Zu and I watch Jekyll&Hyde the musical (with David Hasselhoff as Jekyll/Hyde) every February 14th and laugh until we almost barf. I LOVE J&H day, I look forward to it all year. So to all of you who, like me, are without a Valentine, HAPPY JEKYLL AND HYDE DAY!! :)

But I thought I'd share this cuteness. My best friend's boyfriend came up today, gave her a massive hug from behind, and exclaimed, "Happy Valentine's Day!" in her ear before running off to class. It made me smile. So whatever you celebrate, or if you just love flowers, happy February 14th.

For me it will be a truly perfect holday if people learn to pronounce "February" right. Just sayin'. :)

Over&Out

In Which I Rant Just a Wee Bit

Dear Void,

I am posting again. It is about twenty minutes after my previous post. I have been sitting here, reading blogs, doing nothing of real value.

Why?

Oh. Yeah. I'm supposed to be on a date right now.

Don't get me wrong, I adore this boy. He is great fun and we enjoy frolicking together and generally acting like nincompoops because we're friends and we can. I also thouroughly enjoy being dressed as a pirate, as I am now, in preparation for the school dance which is candyland themed.

But let me tell you what I don't enjoy (and my dear Yoseph, this is in no way a personal attack on you, so don't feel unloved):

Lateness.

I really really dislike when people don't show up when they say they will. For instance, my dancing-pirate date was supposed to be here... forty-five minutes ago.

Forty-six.

Forty-seven??

*sigh* Forty-eight.

And so I blog.

Let me give you another example. A week or so ago this other boy said he was coming over at seven. Great! I decided not to change into my pajamas.

Seven fifteen.

Seven thirty.

Seven forty.

Eight? I texted him. "Oh, sorry, I'm helping a friend with his car. I can't come tonight after all." I COULD HAVE BEEN IN PAJAMAS THAT WHOLE TIME!!!

Ironically I'm posting this later than intended because my date finally did show up yesterday. The dance was fun.

But seriously.... humanity... Einstein said that the reason for time is so that everything doesn't happen at once? I have to disagree with you on this, Al. I think the reason for time is so that people actually manage to meet up when they want to. I think we should probably work on this.

Myself, sadly, included. ;)

Over&Out

In Which I Make a Smallish Change

Dear Void,

I was thinking about this blog. And how it's called "Commentary On" because originally I was aiming to give enlightening commentaries on the world. But I've had this realization:

My posts aren't all that enlightening.

So, henceforth, I declare that the commentary referred to in the title is an expression of my ever-constant interior monologue. Which may not seem all that different to you, but which feels a lot less limiting to me.

Over&Out (for now)

P.S. "smallish" looks really funny when you type/write it out. Just sayin'.

In Which I am a Creeper

Dear Void,

Today I went to Red Mango with my dear friend Anna and my new acquaintance Bretton. I had a most delicious smoothie, not to mention fantisizing about eating a large bowl of berries; strawberries, blackberries, huckleberries (which admittedly don't mix well,) blueberries, raspberries...

Yum.

But I digress. So. Sitting in Red Mango slurping my smoothie through a straw (I love alitterations) when in walks what I assume was two sisters and a baby in one of those baby-carrier... things. Anyway. They set the baby on the floor (well no, they set the baby carrier on the floor, the baby was inside it not actually on the tiles) and went up to the counter to order. The baby started crying.

Sad baby sounds make me sad.

I walked over to the baby (abandoning my friends) and started making faces at him in order to cheer him up. It didn't help. Somehow (and please don't ask me to explain how, it's one of the great mysteries of the universe) I could tell that what he actually wanted was to be picked up. I called across the room to his mom and aunt, saying,

"Hey, I promise I'm not a kidnapper, can I take him out and see if I can get him to stop crying? I understand if that's not okay." His aunt chuckled and said sure, that was fine.

After struggling with the claspy thing for a minute, I freed baby from his carrier. The minute I picked him up, he stopped crying. He and I took a stroll around the room as I bounced him. He stared at Bretton for like a whole minute. When his mommy (that would be Baby's mommy, not Bretton's) was finished at the counter, I handed baby over to her (with some reluctance.)

The moral of the story? I have GOT to get a baby in my family. I am baby hungry. But it was fun! And that's my story. :)

Over&Out.

In Which I am a Genius

Dear Void,

This is too funny not to post on the internet.

So I was lying in bed, watching Gilmore Girls (as I so often do, such a good life choice) the other night. I finished the last disk of the first season for probably the fourth time (and yet I was still wondering--is she going to say yes?? Watch it. You'll understand.) and, seeing as it wasn't all THAT late, opened my CD/DVD drive (herafter referred to as my DVD drive) to take out the old disk and start the second season.

A horrible thing happened.

It wouldn't close. And if my DVD drive didn't close, there would be no playing of the DVD. And if there was no playing of the DVD there would be...

NO GILMORE GIRLS.

This, my friends, is cause for panic.

I unplugged my computer and DASHED upstairs to ask my sister for help. She was at a loss. So I called my friend Spencer, who is a computer magician (he's been disassembling and reconstructing computers since he was, like, ten, seriously. He knows EVERYTHING about how they work, it's great) and asked him what I should do. He said that a piece inside had probably broken off and that I would need to get it repaired.

In the mean time, there was

NO GILMORE GIRLS.

I'm suprised I didn't cry myself to sleep.

So today I showed my dad on the off chance that he could use his magical Dad powers in order to make the DVD drive spontaneously start closing (and thus working) again. I showed him my newest discovery, that if I flipped the computer around I could hear something rattling inside. In a very childish show of frustration which was probably not very good for Cadvan (that's my computer's name,) I started shaking him (Cadvan, not Dad) like a maraca.

And out fell

a bobby pin.

One of these little guys. My DVD drive starting working just fine again, I think I found the problem. They should probably give me a degree in computer programming!

Bah ha. I'm an embarrassment to my generation!

Over&Out.