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.

In Which I Need a Title.

Dear Void,

I've been thinking a lot about perspective lately. This all snowballed from a massive fight I had with my Blue-eyed-boy-best-friend (as opposed to my Brown-eyed-boy-best-friend, who is an ENTIRELY different person.) We were fighting for two months straight because (in summary) I wanted--needed, really--his attention, and he was giving all of his attention to serving the Lord--technically the worthier cause. Except that I was suffering, and isn't serving the Lord ALL ABOUT helping the suffering? End of Aside. But the other day we were arguing about who was right and all of a sudden I realized something:

WE WERE BOTH RIGHT
and
WE WERE BOTH WRONG.

Craziness. Here's how I figure it:

Blue-eyes: he was shutting me out (the wrong thing) for the right reason (serving the Lord.) He thought that if he pushed me away I would accept the oncoming gap between us, making the seperation easier for us both. Plus he wanted to focus on the Savior. But the truth is that I was more miserable than I have ever been in my life and possibly my most understanding friend wasn't there for me. Wrong choice, right reason.

Me: I was driving him crazy (I only texted him eight... nine... ten times per day...) because I needed attention. I have severe chemical depression (YAY medicine!) and I needed him to be there for me. But I wasn't respecting his choice or his need to focus on Jesus. So... right choice (having my friend in my life,) wrong reason (selfishness.)

And now he's at my house, actually.

Over&Out

In Which I Write a Post for Anna

Dear Void,

Nope, it's not her birthday. I don't keep track of birthdays well enough to do tribute posts on them. And she isn't having some kind of breakdown either. My friend Anna just mentioned that she enjoyed my blog. So I told her I'd write her a post. So, Anna Banana Hannah Montana Latifah Elizabeth CENSORED, IT'S THE INTERNET!!, this one's for you.

I hope you enjoy it.

Diction. Also known as enunciation. It resides in a very cold and frustrated place in the hearts of theatre kids, because we're always being told that we don't do it well enough. But at least we're in the habit of pronouncing the words we say as if they carry weight (even when all we're saying is, "I like your shoes," it usually doesn't come out, "Ah lekk yur shus.") I guess I'm spoiled; I go through life expecting that everyone will speak clearly.

I've developed a new pet peeve.

I went to a speech competition on Saturday. It was alright--of course a few speeches were awful, but some were very well written and nicely presented. However. Almost every single person used the word "important" in their speech. And I had this realization: when "important" is pronounced "amporan" (say it in your head, sorry for making you wince,) it loses all of its weight. Maybe that's just me, but "this was one of the most amporan and exidin ["exciting"] battles in history" makes me not care what they're saying. At all.

So I guess what I'm saying is... treasure your words. Love them. If you do, you may yet learn (if you don't already know) how powerful and beautiful they can be.

Remember to use diction. It's amporan.

Over & Out.