In which I hate sopranos

Sopranos stink.

I'm sleepy, but I think I deserve to be sleepy after what I've done in the past 24 hours. Here is the timeline:

Sunday evening:
7:00-9:00: Choir rehearsal
9:00-10:00: Pick up my choir dress, grab a few things and make my way back to my room
10:00-11:00: Work on an application
11:00-2:00: Write 6 essays and a dialogue
2:00-8:25: Sleep
8:25-9:30: Take care of registration for a conference, talk to my brother, check my number of credits completed and GPA, check e-mail, take a shower, do hair, brush teeth, apply makeup, get dressed, go to class
9:30-11:30: Short Story and Speech
11:30-12:30: Check over resume and 6 essays, print them out, get my professor's phone number and address, go to lunch
12:30-2:30: Choir and Creative Writing
2:30-3:30: Turn in application and go to Commons to ask about applying for another position
3:30-5:30: Pick up application, fill it out, write 5 essays, find 3 references
5:30-6:30: Eat dinner, revise resume, check essays, print essays and resume and turn in application

Yes, yes it's been quite an eventful day. Whee!

In Creative Writing, I was telling Nick about getting the assignment done at 2:00, and he said, "You do that all the time, don't you?" I told him that it was because I had to write 6 essays and he asked what kind of class that was for. I told him I was applying for an RA position, and he said, "Why don't you apply for the COM position?" (Commons Office Manager.) I had never thought about that, but now that he mentions it, I think I would really, really like that job! So that's what the second application was all about. It was almost a miracle because today was the last day to turn them in, and Michael told me that since I didn't get an application until an hour before it was due, it was ok if I turned it just a tad late. Isn't that sweet?

Things to accomplish tomorrow:
~Find two advisors
~See about places to live during the summer
~Talk to the people in Financial Aid
~Get application at Wal-Mart
~Write a reaction paper
~Read a story for my Short Story class
~Deliver mail
~Desk duty

Almost time for Cru! Yay! Yay for no class Tuesdays!
~MK

In which I talk to my military brother

He was in a good mood. That doesn't happen all the time. I was telling him about the game last night, and I realized that last night, I had an "Are you sure you're not drunk?" moment. Nikki K and Lisa had gone to get food and I was sitting there and I started to giggle and by the time Nikki K got back I was laughing really hard and she asked what was so funny and I said, "When people ask me what I notice first about guys, I'm going to say 'their elbow!'" Yeah -- pretty sure that's an "are you sure you're not drunk?" moment. I told Dave about it and he said, "Wow! What can I do to make my elbow as hot as I possibly can?" Then he said that he was going to tell Jedd to polish up his elbow so that I would want him -- THAT IS JUST WRONG! And I never said which elbow -- I have a preference!

My brother is a genius. He . . . understands. For serious. I was telling him about possibly getting to spend Spring Break with someone and it being exciting and everything and he said, "So, you like him, but you don't WANT him, right?" RIGHT. Why can't everyone understand like that? Then he proceeded to explain what-all "wanting" a guy involves. Um, pretty sure not at this point, thanks. Ew! Oh -- and he explained what "pimp" means and he told me to hold Nikki K's hand for him. Alrighty then . . . That COULD be arranged, but it might get a little uncomfortable . . .
~MK

In which I am very, very crabby. Grrr

So, yeah -- in case you haven't figured it out yet, I'm crabby. Very, very crabby.

Topics to avoid:
basketball
fishing
Terrace food
Catholicism
Everything else as long as we're making a list

We lost again tonight. I want to kick Athletic Math Boy's tush, even though he does have a nice olecranon. For serious. Not for any reason in particular, but because it would just feel good to kick something. And then he'd be hurting on both ends -- the nose AND the tail. Oh my goodness -- so someone elbowed him in the face and his nose started to bleed. It was so sad! And I was so crabby that I was cheering for the other team. And I didn't CARE that it was Elijah Starzl and LaRon Dawn's last game at SMSU. We were playing against the Minnesota third of my hometown. I didn't know any of the people on the team. But that was ok. I probably would have wanted to kick his tush if I had.

So, the first thing I notice about guys is their elbow. Just thought I'd share that with you.

Jeremy got a haircut which is nice because he was beginning to look quite frightening. Now he looks quite studly, and I don't mean tall and skinny, although that is a very acurate description of him.

I'm crabby. Don't mess with me.

In which I nearly pull an all-nighter and Jonis Agee speaks in two of my classes

Sometimes it can't be avoided. On occasion, one absolutely must indulge in every college student's favorite past time -- the All-Nighter. Or not their favorite past time. It's unfortunately not usually something college students do for giggles. For example, the only reason I was up until 5:30 this morning was so that I could finish preparing my speech.

I think it's good to pull an all-nighter every so often. It makes the emotion side of your intellect turn off. That could be a good thing. Yeah . . .

We had Jonis Agee talk in my lit class and my creative writing class. She is so fascinating. She told us how she comes up with ideas for stories and details in stories. I can't wait to write a story! I have to write one for Creative Writing. I'm going to write about a boy named Kip and a girl named Katie. Yay!

I survived giving my speech. Yay!
~MK

In which . . . MOOD RING!

Last night at Perkins, I was reminded of this song . . .

Mood Ring
We all know the girls that I am talking about.
Well they are time bombs and they are ticking
And the only question is when...they'll blow up!
And they'll blow up, we know that without a doubt.
Cause they're those girls, yeah, you know those girls
That let their emotions get the best of them.
GO!!!

And I've contrived some sort of a plan
To help my fellow man...

Let's get emotional girls to all wear mood rings
So we'll be tipped off to when they're ticked off
Cause we'll know just what they're thinking,
Just what they're thinking...

She's so pretty but she doesn't always act that way
Emotions swinging on the swingset almost everyday
She said to me that she's so happy it's depressing
And all I said was "Someone get that girl a mood ring!"

If it's drama you want, then look no further
They're like the Real World meets Boy Meets World meets Days of Our Lives.
And it just kills me how they get away with murder
They'll anger you then bat their eyes
Those pretty eyes that watch you sympathize
GO!!!

And I've contrived some sort of a plan
To help my fellow man...

Let's get emotional girls to all wear mood rings
So we'll be tipped off to when they're ticked off
Cause we'll know just what they're thinking,
Just what they're thinking...

She's so pretty but she doesn't always act that way
Emotions swinging on the swingset almost everyday
She said to me that she's so stressed out that it's soothing
And all I said was "Someone get that girl a mood ring!"

Cause when it's black means "watch your back" because you're probably
The last person in the world right now she wants to see
And when it's blue it means you should call her up immediatly and ask her out because she'll most likely agree
And when it's green it simply means that she is really stressed
And when it's clear it means she's completely emotionless
And that's alright I must confess

We all know the girls that I am talking about
She likes you Wednesday, but now it's Friday
And she has to wash her hair
And it just figures that we'll never figure them out
Well, first she's Jekyll and then she's Hyde...
at least she makes a lovely pair.

Mood Ring, oh Mood Ring,
oh tell me will you bring the key
To unlock this mystery?
Of girls and their emotions
Play it back in slow motion
So I may understand
The complex infrastucture known as the female mind

I was reminded of this song because Ashley had a mood ring, and she let Nikki K. try it to see what her mood was. She was blue. (That means, according to the song, that if she is asked out, she would say yes. Hm . . . ) Then I was like, "Can I try???" So I tried and it was blue for me too. (Hm . . . ) Then Andy tried it and it was blue again. Unfortunately, we don't know what the colors mean . . . We were pretty sure that blue is calm. But since we didn't know for sure, I said it must mean that we're dilusional. Ashley put the ring back on, and it turned green for a while. We don't know what that means, but someone told me that some say that it means you're horny, which is very disturbing. I like the song's definition: really stressed. Yeah. That's cooler.

Yeah . . . not much new around here. I have a speech tomorrow and I haven't even started. AHH! HELP!
~MK

In which I am frightfully embarrassed

At lunch today, M.T. and T.B. embarrassed me . . . I was blushing even. For serious! We were talking about Amy asking me if there was a boy on the team and I had said that they were all boys and they were like "You like someone . . . " and they guessed who and I turned really red and Krista said "That's quite a look you have on your face . . . " and yeah -- I was horribly embarrassed. But I figure that he should be honored that I like him. I don't like just ANYONE.

(M.T. and T.B. -- it's ok.)
~MK

In which I am distressed . . .

Sad day. We lost again. I am so distressed! It wouldn't have been so bad, except for a few details.

Elijah Starzl, our star player was injured. There were a bunch of people on top of him and they all got up and started running to the other side and there he lay and the refs didn't even realize it until like 30 seconds later. Then the trainer person helped him get up and the game went on while the trainer checked him for shock. (I think he may have hit his head.) He got to play again toward the end of the game.

Andy gotted 3 three pointers! Whee! It was so exciting!

Earlier today, I thought to myself thought I, "You know . . . we used to have all those issues with the fire alarms in the R/A last year. It would be interesting if they went off during a basketball game." I was only thinking that because they went off ALL THE TIME last year and we hadn't had any alarms at all this year. Well, half-way through the second half, the fire alarms went off. I swear, I was sitting in the bleachers. It wasn't me! Sarah and Em and Tara and Amy can testify to that. How did I KNOW that was going to happen today? For serious -- it was hilarious. They stopped the game and no one went anywhere -- we all just sat there like bumps on logs, except for me. I was laughing hysterically.

There were 10 seconds left and the score was 68-71 (Concordia) and one of our dudes got a two pointer and then they took a time out and when the game started again, someone got another two pointer to put the game at 72-71 (SMSU). The time ran out and we had won, but the refs called something that I don't understand and put 1.3 seconds back on the clock and Concordia called a time out and when the game started again, one of their dudes shot a three-pointer that went through just as the buzzer sounded to win the game, 74-72. I could have cried. They're meanyheads. I'm so distressed.

Just as the buzzer sounded, Timmy called me and I answered and I said, "Timmy, we just lost -- AGAIN!" He did his best to cheer me up. He said that he wanted to share a Bible verse with me that really meant a lot to him. He was looking for it and he couldn't find it so he paraphrased it -- it said something about someone having thirty-something beers. That got us on the topic of how . . . dirty the King Jimmy version is. It says something somewhere about some chick being laid. And it says "thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's ass." Timmy told me that and I was like, "Dude -- I should find that verse!" So I was looking and looking and I couldn't find it and I said, "Timmy, I give up." He said, "But you can't! I have to get to the bottom of this! -No pun intended." That made me laugh hysterically. And then I found it (It's in the 10 Commandments) and we laughed. It was a good time. You can tell I was very, very distressed, cuz I was making jokes about asses -- and I do NOT talk like that . . .

The girls were talking about how "small" Andy is, and I said, "But he's NOT! There are 18 boys on the team and only 8 of them are taller than Andy!" For serious! Why did they not tease me? When I get into things, I really get into things! And today, I was telling Amy about becoming a basketball fanatic in the past three weeks, and she said, "Mari Jo, is there are BOY on the team?" I said, "Well . . . they're kinda ALL boys . . . all 18 of them . . . " Lol -- Amy thinks I like one of them. Hm . . . can anyone guess? (Not Kyrie or Nikki-K, cuz they know too much.)
~MJ

In which we lose and I almost cry

Tara went to the game with me last night. Nikki-K is out of town this weekend so I asked Tara if she wanted to go with me. It would have been lots of fun except that it was pretty clear after the first 5 minutes that we were going to lose. It was pretty bad. The other team was really, really tough. One of them shoved Andy and he fell and slid like 5 feet before he stopped. Tara said, "They need to be nice! He could have walked all over poor little Andy!" Andy's not that little . . . he's not as big as some of the other guys on the team, but he's not little. I think it seems like he's small only because a few of the guys are quite large. For example, # 44 is 6'10" and he makes EVERYONE look like a midget.

I was so disappointed. But we play again tonight and we HAVE to win because we're tied for third (NSIC) with Concordia and if we win, we'll get to play another home game. It's crazy how much you learn being a copy editor. . .

I'm liking the whole first soprano thing. Whee! :-)
~MJ

In which I get moved in choir and I want a baby

When the aforementioned Lisa brought up the fact that I should be a first soprano once again, I decided that I had to talk to Mr. S. I knocked on his door with much fear and trembling and when he answered I told him what was up and he said, "We'll put you with the firsts then, and I'll take care of the problem with the seconds." He told me who to sit by on Friday and then he asked if I was upset about it. Not so much upset as I want to make everyone happy and I feel bad that they're upset with me. He told me that the girls can get a little nasty with each other sometimes and he said he'd take care of it and nip this one in the bud. Yay! I just hope that the seconds don't get madder at me because I never intended for him to do anything about it and I didn't go to him to whine. I wouldn't have had I not agreed with the seconds that I would do much better as a first soprano.

Em's babysitting Sweet Baby Abby. She's so adorable! I want a baby. . .
~MK

In which watashiwa curu curu pa!

In other words, in which I am crazy.

It being Valentine's Day yesterday, I decided to be creative. It was a pretty cool day. At Cru, Eric had some conversation hearts and he said, "Mari Jo, this one is for you!" I was like, "Dude -- that's cool! What does it say?" He looked at it and said, "It says 'Be Good.'" Lol -- I laughed hysterically. Eric has no idea . . . I said, "Eric, can I give you a kiss?" It didn't work out the way I had HOPED -- he got it right away. He was quite happy to receive a Hershey's Kiss. The Andys and Nate got it too, which was sad . . . But it was funny, too. Me and my quirky sense of humor . . . Matthew thought I meant a real kiss and was quite traumatized. It was so funny. At Perkins, I got French silk pie and they had put a chocolate heart on it and I asked Matthew if I could give him my heart, and he refused. I was crushed . . . So I gave my heart to Scoop instead, and he enjoyed it thoroughly. Matthew was again traumatized and told me that I should not give my heart to just anyone and that I should guard it. Scoop is special though, and I think he deserved to have my heart. (He's a basketball boy . . . for serious. I'm honored to have given him my heart!)

I was a greeter last night at Cru. It was awesomely fun. It made me very happy, which hadn't happened in a while.

Time for work
~MK

In which being a second soprano stinks and I get an A

Lisa was unhappy with me because she thought I was singing the first soprano part in choir today. It was sad. It's not my fault Mr. S. made me a second when first would have been more appropriate . . . Lisa told me I should ask him if I can be a first because I just can't do second. Hm, perhaps I will . . . I don't want to though because he probably is trying to stretch me and make me learn something, but it's . . . hard. And the rest of the seconds don't appreciate me being a second when I should be a first.

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY! This is the first Valentine's Day that I didn't absolutely hate. Maybe because Beth and Matthew and Laura aren't here. Laura liked to rub my face in Beth and Matthew's relationship and I still felt the rubbing after she was gone. This year I'm staying away from Sarah, and with Beth and Matthew not being here, it isn't so awkward to be single. And I got flowers and THREE Valentines, and that has NEVER happened before. :-)

Thanks to A.W., I got an A on my walking across the street writing assignment. He doesn't know about it, but yeah -- I got an A and a "this is wonderful." Eeee! And the one that I hated the most -- the "being in love" one -- was one that Dr. W. was the most excited about! Yay!

So, um . . . there was something else. Oh, we lost one and we won one last weekend. Then we have 4 home games (I am SO going to be there) and if we win at least one of them, we'll have another home game. We are SO going to win these games! Sadly, I can't go to next Friday's cuz I'm going to Sioux Falls that night, but I'll be at the others. I hope Shannon can go with me this week cuz both Nikki-K and Lisa-K can't . . . It's so sad . . .

Time. Have you ever thought about the passing of time? I never would have, except that almost every day, I look at my clock at exactly 5:10 p.m. It seems odd that 5:10 p.m. occurs so often. And once 5:10 p.m. has passed on any given day, that moment is forever gone. It seems so strange. The time that has passed can never be replaced. It can never be gotten back. The days seem so long, but then they're gone and another one comes. It seems as if we have a never-ending supply of days -- but each day, we become one day older. And as time passes, we come one day closer to the end of our lives and to the end of our influence in this world. We ought to live each day as if it was our last, in honor of the days that we won't live, that we won't be able to influence those around us and make the world a better place to be. Don't waste your time, because someday, you won't have any more left.
~MK

In which we lose and then WE WIN! and Evan and I have a baby and professors are awesome

I have so much to talk about!

A few days back -- before I got sick -- we lost to Wayne State. That was sad . . . I wanted to cry. But we did beat SDSU on Tuesday, which is super-duper exciting. Tonight we play Crookston and tomorrow night we play Bemidji. They're away games so I can't go . . . I was really wanting to go to a basketball game this week, but there aren't any. BUT, I got my boss to agree to make someone else work 2/18-2/20 so I will be able to go to the games on Friday night and Saturday night. That will be super-duper fun. (No, I'm not being irresponsible. I have work study money and I will run out of money before the end of the semester if I work that weekend, and then I'd have to work a week or more without being paid, and no one thinks that's a cool idea.)

Evan and I had a baby. But we had to give it back. It was sad. (NOTE: it was a game.) Firstly, it was kinda interesting because we didn't recall ever having met each other before last night. We must have been drunk or something when he "knocked me up." We became parents of a cute little baby, and when Dr. Brandon gave our baby to Evan, Evan dropped him on his head. He said, "At least I didn't shake him . . . " Then we had to name our baby. We decided to name him Fred, which I later forgot and I was unable to tell someone the name of my new baby when they asked. (How sad . . . Evan was very disappointed in me.) After that, we had to "buy" characteristics for our new baby, but we had to first decide what was important to us. We bought "muscle tone" and "gender" and "eye color." This means that we could decide the gender and eye color of the baby and it guaranteed that our baby would be ripped. We specified that our baby was a boy and that he had green eyes. Then we went to another "shop" where we purchased musical ability for our baby. Evan said that our baby was going to go all the way to the top and produce a Christian record, which he said was proof that Sara, the proprietor of the smarts shop, should not have sold it to us. Hold on a minute: we needed to rethink this whole parenting thing. We obviously have very different values and that is not good for our poor child! Does anyone need to adopt a baby?? Then we went to another shop and bought 20/20 vision and perfect hearing (so if we dropped the baby on his head again, it wouldn't be too bad for him . . . ) and natural antibodies so that he'd be healthy. Then we went back to Dr. Brandon's shop and bought "anti-schizo," "anti-addictive behaviors," "anti-genetic disorders" and "anti-alcoholism." Then we didn't have any money left and we had to wait for everyone else to finish making their purchases. It turned out that not everyone was as lucky as Evan and I had been. We had been given liberty to purchase anything we wanted while some of the other couples were told they could not. One set of parents was told that they were making poor life choices because they were a "lesbian couple." (There weren't enough boys!) One girl who didn't have a partner at all (there was an odd number of people playing) was told that all single mothers have low birth weight babies when she tried to buy her baby a healthy birth weight. The point of the game was to learn how people feel when they're not treated like everyone else is and to appreciate that everyone has different values. We talked about what was important to us as "parents" of these babies and what we wanted our child to be and everyone's ideas were different. Jake wanted his child to be a wheelchair basketball champion and gave him muscle tone and athletic ability. Evan and I wanted our child to be healthy and not have any mental health problems. There was one couple who spent all their money on their baby's appearance and made it a handsome baby boy and they named him Hans, but they didn't guarantee it's gender and it turned out that their baby was a girl. We had tons of fun. But then we all had to give our babies back and go home. It was sad. Evan and I had grown quite fond of our baby . . .

When I worked at Wal-Mart, one of my supervisors was Tim. He quit when I'd worked there for 2-1/2 months. Jaclyn and I went to Wal-Mart today and we saw Tim! Eeee! Tim was the best. He liked to tease me because I never got mad at him. He liked to try to scare me because I never got scared. (One time he almost hit me in the face and I didn't jump at all and his friend thought I was crazy because I didn't react.) And the best part was that he found people to take my shifts one weekend because I hadn't gotten to go home for like 10 weeks and I was so homesick that I was in tears. That night, I had a nasty customer and I had to call him over because she was mad at me because I had to stand by the store policy. After she left, he came back and asked if I was ok and I started to cry and I said, "Tim, I want to go home!" He said that he'd love to be able to let me go, but I could't go until 10 because we were short as it was and it was getting closer to Christmas with every passing minute and I had to stay. I said, "No, I mean home-home." He said, "Ah, I see. When was the last time you went?" I hadn't . . . When I told him that, he said, "I'll do everything I can to get people to take your shifts this weekend so you can go home." And he did! It was awesome. I loved working with Tim. :-)

Mrs. Zarzana is completely awesome. (Mrs. Zarzana teaches my Short Story class and she is the one that had my cousin Josh in her class at Mankato.) From what I understand, she and her husband (Dr. Zarzana) are very much involved in the Campus Religious Center. Dr. Zarzana cooks spaghetti every year for the annual fund raiser dinner for Neuman Club. Tomorrow, there's a workshop at the Religious Center about writing. Mrs. Zarzana stopped me after class and asked if I was going to go to it. I told her that I wasn't planning on going because I didn't have the money for it and I didn't want to go because my "friend" was going to go and she's just so . . . hypocritical . . . sometimes. Mrs. Zarzana said, "It's only $5. I'll gladly pay for you to go. You have so much potential, MJ! If you don't go out there and use what you have and learn how to become better, you'll lose it, and that would be tragic!" Then she told me to remember the quote she had read to us in class. It went something like this: There was a sign at a church that read, "don't skip church because there are too many hypocrits there. We have room for one more." She said to not skip an opportunity simply because some people choose to misrepresent it. I could be missing out on something life-changing, simply because I didn't want to hang out with hypocrits. She told me that she really wanted to go herself, but she couldn't because she takes a salsa dance class on Saturdays. Then she said that if I didn't want to go, I could use the $5 for something that I needed instead. That was so sweet of her . . . Sometimes I am amazed. I mean, usually people don't seem to care and I feel like I must be some kind of loser or something because people don't talk to me and no one sees anything in me. But Mrs. Zarzana does. And that's oh, so cool!

~MK

In which the scintillating bathing suit is found!

Here is my story:

Evan grasped the limb firmly and pulled himself up into the tree. He was searching for a comfortable place to sleep for a few hours. His hand touched something soft.
"I wonder what this could be," he thought to myself. He picked the item up to investigate. It sparkled in the moolight as he brought it closer to his eyes. "It has diamonds stuck to it! What is this?" As he looked closer, he realized that it was a woman’s bathing suit with diamonds sewn on it. He was overcome with an urge to conceal the thing, for fear that someone would realize what wealth he had found. Quickly, he removed his clothes and put the bathing suit on and put his clothes back on over the top of it. Then he settled into a little nook in the tree and quickly fell asleep.

When Evan woke up, he decided to inquire about the value of diamonds at the local jeweler. He suspected that there were 300 small diamonds sewn to the bathing suit. He began walking through the rainforest. It was only a few miles to the nearest town. He began to whistle as he walked.

A woman with bushy, curly blonde hair and a red-splotched face ran into the road in front of him. "Where is my bathing suit?" she screamed. "I left it sitting on my table and now it’s gone!"

Evan wasn’t sure what to make of that. As he approached where she was standing, he said, "Calm down Ma’am. Maybe I can help you find it. What’s your name? Can you tell me what the bathing suit looked like?"

"My name is Barbie. I’m here from America and I’m here with a group of high school students. We’re exploring the rainforest as a school project. I left my bathing suit on the floor in the hut I was staying in and I went to sleep.When I woke up, it was gone!"

"But what does it look like?" Evan asked.

"It’s . . . Wait . . . I can see something through your shirt. Are you wearing my bathing suit?"

"I . . . I . . . Don’t know. I just found it. I don’t know where it came from and I didn’t want to lose it, so I put it on under my clothes. So much for concealing it. What does your bathing suit look like, Barbie? If I am indeed wearing your bathing suit, I will return it."

"It’s red with rhinestone diamonds. I wore it in a beauty contest and I need it back because it’s my only link to my past as a beauty queen."

Evan stared at her. "You were in a beauty contest?" he thought to himself. He took in her splotchy cheeks, the dull blue eyes, the scars on her cheeks, the frizzy hair.

"It’s called make up, honey. And colored contacts. Hair care products work too. I don’t do it anymore because it takes too much time."

"But did you have that little quirk with your arm back then?" he asked bluntly.

"Nah," she said. "I kinda had a little accident and I couldn’t get to a doctor before the bone started to heal. I was in a primitive environment where there were no doctors. They couldn’t get me to a larger village so they just let it heal like this. It made me angry and before I left, I strangled three newborn infants. I purposefully stayed until the three women gave birth, I stangled their children and I left. They never suspected it was me." At least, if they did, it never got back to me."

Evan stared at her, wondering if he should run, wondering if his life was in danger.

"Honestly, ma’am. I didn’t take your bathing suit. I found a red bathing suit in a tree. I was trying to find a place to sleep, and there it was. I don’t know how it got there, although I suspect that a sloth probably found it’s way to your hut, was attracted to its scintillating in the moonlight and took it to his tree where I found it. Here, I’ll take it off," he said as he began to strip.

"No, no . . ." she said. "Go into the hut. You don’t have to take it off out here."

He looked at her again and decided that he couldn’t trust her to not murder him, so he said, "I’ll just go over there behind that bush. I’ll be back in a minute."

He brought the bathing suit back and smiled as he handed it to her. "By the way, Barbie, if you would like, I could try to fix your arm for you. I’m an orthopedic specialist. I’d love to take a look at it, but I have one condition."

"What’s that?" she asked.

"You have to promise me that you won’t strangle any more babies -- or anything else."

She smiled. "It’s a deal."

In which I quote myself

I was talking to Stacy last night. I had been really depressed because . . . I can't tell you why. But my RA had told me that I needed to be happy and I said, "Why does everyone have to be happy all the time?" She said, "They don't -- but you do, because that's your personality." I told Stacy about it and I said, "I swear I'm not bipolar. I just like to give sadness equal opportunity!"

I have to write a story by Friday. Maybe I'll do it on here. That way you can read it too. Hm . . . Let me know what you think of that idea.
~MK

This one is for KB

The statements in red are true of me. If part of the statement is red, it's partially true.

01. I am stubborn
02. I love to laugh
03. I love shopping
04. I have a select group of friends
05. I wouldnt trade my mom for the world
06. I enjoy playing my music loud
07. I love to scrapbook
08. I love 80's music
09. I love to wear flip flops
10. I love hugs
11. I love to take pictures
12. I'm a blonde
13. I watch movies all the time
14. I'm currently not a student
15. I work as a nanny 5 days a week
16. I eat cereal everyday
17. I can be mean
18. I want a new car
19. I love Finding Nemo
20. I love going to shows
21. I have the nicest cat in the world
22. I'm a free spirit
23. I love to eat chocolate
24. I love to sleep
25. I love blue jeans
26. I love country music
27. I've been to amsterdam (I would have been had I been able to go to Scandinavia . . . )
28. I love candy
29. My family is crazy
30. I love to travel
31. I want to major in child development
33. I actually want to be a lazy bum
34. I want to see the world
35. Im obsessed with the food channel
36. I like Will and Grace
37. I'd rather have a small group of close friends than a large group of friends that I didn't know all that well
38. I have a best friend
39. My cell phone ringtones are super great
40. Getting new things is always fun
41. I love giving gifts
42. I hate receiving gifts
43. I am sometimes loud and obnoxious
44. I love watching films
45. I am very crazy at times
46. I love massages
47. I dont have a boyfriend
48. I mostly do my own laundry
49. I love eating
50. I love using the computer
51. I totally watch American Idol
52. Im a definitely not a vegetarian
53. I hate hot weather
54. I used to smoke pot
55. It would be fun to be a flight attendent
56. I still live at home
57. I hate to cry, especially in front of people
58. I have a good relationship with my Mom
59. I like to learn new things but not at school
60. I wish I was really talented in dancing
61. I love Sinatra
62. I love seeing musicals
63. I have an addiction to mint oreo coolers from caribou
64. I hate ice cream
65. I love watching tv
66. I am a total scrub and I would be a scrub all the time if I could
67. I have an older borther
68. I have met some famous people
69. I've had braces
70. I hate alcohol sometimes
71. I love listening to music
72. I hate when people act stupid
73. I have green eyes
74. I would do anything for money
75. I love my dog
76. I love my cats
77. I wish i was short
78. I hate being the center of attention
79. I can't get to sleep without the TV
80. I dont trust people
81. I'd love to have the money to buy things for people in need
82. I'm scared i wont get married (not scared . . . It's just not very likely)
83. I love shopping online
84. I love when guys can sing well
85. I hate the mall
86. I've had a real Christmas trees
87. I wish i had a boyfriend (girls with boyfriends tend to be mean)
88. I like holding hands
89. I love to cuddle
90. Im afraid of fish
91. I love ty-dye
92. I am actually close with my mom
93. I like naps but I never get to nap
94. I get along with my siblings because my parents make me
95. I don't like a lot of girls
96. I am really insecure with myself
97. I still own ninja turtles bedsheets
98. I dont like vegtables/salads/sandwiches
99. I love my friends (most of the time)
100. I love receiving e-mails/comments

In which Timmy is horrified -- and I make him giggle and the Irish Catholic/Protestant clash comes to Minnesota

I was just about to crawl into bed last night when I thought it might be prudent to check my phone to see who had been calling (if anyone). It turned out that I had missed 9 calls. (Naughty me -- remember to turn the ringer on next time!) Just as I was checking to see who they had been from, I received another call. It was Timmy. He told me that my dad's friend's wife's sister-in-law (or something) had given Dad's friend's wife a Valentine's Day gift. I asked what she had gotten, and Timmy replied, "A necklace, a bracelet, some smelly stuff . . . and . . . UNDERPANTS!" Timmy was horrified. Then he said, "She wasn't too happy with the underpants. She said they were the wrong style and she'd never wear them." I said, "What kind were they, Timmy?" Timmy giggled and said, "I'm trying to forget everything you told me about that." (Oh, really Timmy . . . )

I'm generally really laid back and things don't bother me too much. However, I do have one major pet peeve. The Irish Catholic/Protestant clash. Especially when it migrates to Minnesota. Actually, I don't care about the Irish problem that much. If they want to blow each other's brains out, then let them. They all know that if they'd just decide to get along, everything would be all better and no one would hate each other. They just have to decide that's what they want. Until then, we'll have them blowing each other's brains out. We'll just have to learn to deal with it. It just really gets to me when it comes over here. Tonight, a bunch of my "friends," who happen to be Catholic, were sitting together. I got to the cafeteria and they waved at me and when I went over to talk to them, they said, "You can't sit here. You're not Catholic." I said, "Well excuse me," and walked away. Since when does the church you are part of make a difference? They were joking, but . . . I know that way down deep inside, they really DO care, and since I'm not Catholic, I don't belong. One of them asked me which denomination I'm part of, and I told them that I don't believe in denominations because I don't believe that Jesus endorses divisions among Christians and denominational lines are the biggest divisions among Christians that there are.

And then I got to thinking about being indoctrinated through my high school text books. It's so sad. The company that prints the books hates Catholics so fiercely that if a piece of information promotes anything regarding the Catholic church, they ignore it. I don't think I got a fair education. 1) It's not fair to Catholics because I was instructed to believe that Catholics are evil (I don't believe Jesus endorses that opinion.) 2) I didn't learn a lot of things that really would have helped me in college. Like, osmosis for example. I'm not sure what it has to do with Catholicism, but obviously, it has SOMETHING to do with it because they gave me the WRONG definition and it took me 3 semesters to figure out what it REALLY is. (And I learned about it in 3 different classes PER SEMESTER.)

Being sick stinks . . . I didn't have any nyquil left on Friday night, so I went to bed and I couldn't go to sleep because I was freezing but my head was burning up. Then I was burning up all over and I fell asleep and had a dream about gladiator basketball in which a bunch of people were playing but as time passed, the people kept dying and as they died, I had to write obituaries for them and finally it was down to Andy W. playing against Andy Z. (They're roommates) and I was like, "Oh my goodness! Who is going to survive this???" Athletic Math Boy or History/Government/Walking for Wellness Boy? (Z and I were in all those classes at the same time our freshman year.) Then I woke up and I swear my temperature had to have been at least 105 degrees because when it gets that high, you start to get delusional. (That and the fact that I was extremely warm and I hadn't been covered up and the room temp was only about 65 degrees.) It was an interesting night . . . Oh my goodness! I just thought of something . . . I'm gonna have to ponder that one for a while. Where's Nikki K when you need her? Oh yeah -- at the Andys' Superbowl Party. :-/ Sad day . . .

I decided to start taking vitamins so I don't get sick again. The bottle said to take one after a meal, so I put them in my backpack and went to lunch. I got done eating and I went outside to chit-chat with Wade and Ryan. I said, "Hi boys. Would you like a One A Day for Women?" Hehehe They declined.

I miss my military boy . . .
~MK

In which I discover that I will never understand KB and Powerade is disgusting

Being sick stinks. I had never missed a class in my life. I'd never called in sick before. Until yesterday. It was so sad. I thought I was going to be ok, but when I could barely stand up, I decided to find my professors and tell them I was going to bed because I felt like I was going to die. They were all like, "Please do go back to bed . . . Please don't die though." I stopped at health services to ask them what I should do for myself. I felt so icky that I started to cry and the nurse said, "The only thing I can do is take your temperature." Then I vomitted and I don't understand you, KB. Vomitting is NOT a cool feeling. I think it gives you endorphins though. I went back to my room and slept all day. Nick wasn't happy with me because no one could deliver the mail and he had to do it. He didn't mind doing it, but I had to come to the office for a few minutes to watch the desk until Michael got out of his meeting. Michael sent me home as soon as he got out of the meeting.

I didn't go to my classes today either, and that was sad. I ended up sleeping until about 2:00 this afternoon.

I'm wearing my "beauty and brains" socks. I don't feel very beautiful or very brainy today, so I had to wear the socks to compensate. I wonder if people are very convinced by them . . .

Powerade is disgusting. I guess I should count my blessings because it made me stop vomitting and made me feel a lot better, but it tastes nasty . . .
~MK

In which we discover that if it's written in Latin, skipping it don't cut the mustard.

In times past, if anything was written in a language that I don't understand -- English, for example -- I would skip it. Ok, ok. I'm kidding on the English part. Let's take Latin, for example. I know nothing. Absolutely nothing about Latin. Therefore, in times past, if I came across anything written in Latin, I'd skip it. Like, in A&P lab, for example. Latissimus dorsi. That's Latin. It's a muscle. Don't ask where it is. I have no clue, although I think it's in the back. Take music for another example. Allegro. Or wait . . . Isn't that some sort of perscription drug? No . . . Anyway, I don't know anything. But today in Choir, I learned that if it's Latin, skipping it don't cut the mustard. Because . . . well, with a title like "Beati quorum ambulant" -- or something like that -- you pretty much can't skip the Latin parts. Cuz it's all Latin. Oh -- and we're learning another one called "Totus Tuus" which starts out with a resounding, resonant, spine-tingling chorus of "MARIA MARIA MARIA MARIA!" And ROLL those Rs, please! When do we get to sing in English?

I was chit-chatting with Nikki K. last night and we were talking about music. I told her that I had never heard Nirvana before last December. She asked if I had heard "Smells like Teen Spirit." Nope. (That title kinda sounds like it could be an advertisement for deodorant.) No, unfortunately, in the words of the greatly respected (or not), world famous (ha) Bryce R., Sports Editor of the SMSU Spur, "You lost your Nirvana virginity to the song 'Rape Me.'" Oh boy . . .

I don't have a sore throat. I just have a throat condition that could end up being a sore throat at some point in the near future. It feels odd. But it doesn't hurt. I wonder . . . Is it the flu? Walking pneumonia? Strep? Bronchitus? Mononucleosis? Hm . . . Eddie told me that I can't have mono, because it's "Kissing disease" and we all know how big my bubble is. Holding hands is akin to rape, as Eddie unfortunately discovered one day last semester. I screamed. Timmy was on the phone with me and he heard me screaming and he said, "Mari! Are you ok?? What are they doing to you?" Lol -- it was a grand old time. And Eddie learned not to try to hold my hand.

I finally figured it out. I figured out why Laura didn't like me. Why Sarah doesn't like me. Why thusly, no one else likes me either. It's because I'm a writer. I learned in my Creative Writing class that being a writer takes passion and guts. And you have to be different. You have to understand things in a different way. You have to express things differently. And you have to know that you're different and accept the fact that you're different.

They don't like me because I'm a writer. Because rather than conforming to their standards, I embrace the things that make me unique. That being the case, I think . . . may I be so bold as to propose that perhaps . . . perhaps, I may be a better writer than even those who have tons of writing experience? I mean, among my "friends." I have some "friends" who have written for the paper since they came here. They have been editors. They've been published in national newspapers and magazines. But they don't embrace uniqueness. They don't believe in the beauty of diversity. Everything has to be compatable. Everything has to be just so. Everything has to be their way. And it has to be . . . normal. What a tragedy.

I don't need them anyway. Cuz there's the ones like Dan. Dan is a truly unique fellow. He's the A&E editor at the paper, and he's in my writing class. He's so random and completely ok with being different. When he was hired as our AnE editor, someone said, "I can't wait to see what that section is going to be like." They went on to explain that it was probably going to sound like a tripping schizophrenic wrote most of it. And yes, most of what Dan writes sounds like it was done by a tripping schizophrenic. Shucks -- he sometimes writes under the pseudonym "Fuzzy Wuzzn'ty." The last article he wrote under that name was written from the perspective of a badger. At least, I think that was written by Dan. Dan's cool. We were talking before class today. I told him that I needed to get some O.J. because I needed some vitamin C in it. Dan is one of those quiet, laid back guys. He's tall and scrawny-ish. He doesn't appear to be too intelligent, although I suspect that a certain amount of genius is hidden somewhere within him. Dan said, "O.J. has vitamin C in it? I should get some." I said, "Grapefruit has lots of it too." And Dan said, "Grapefruit has it too? I should get myself one of them . . . I haven't had one in a long time. [Five second pause] Cool." I do have a point. My point is this: Writer people are awesome. He made me want to giggle.

I spose I should stop wasting time and get to the homework. I need speech topics. Shucks . . .
~MK

In which we discover that sometimes, you have to lose something in order to find something

Hey

I dropped my friends, as I mentioned in past posts. It's been quite interesting. I don't miss a single one of them because the two people out of the 25 that I used to hang out with who really do care about me and want to be my friend because they want to still talk to me. (Tara, you are one of them -- I love you!) The rest pretend like they care but I know that way down deep inside, if I didn't have a car, they'd never talk to me. That's kinda sad.

It's not too easy just dropping your friends sometimes. At lunch yesterday, I sat at a table by myself, and Glen came over and asked me to sit with him and explained that if I didn't, he'd have to sit by Wade. I said, "But if I sit by you, you'll still have to sit by Wade. The only difference is that not only would I have to sit by Wade too, I'd have to sit by you as well. I don't want to sit by either of you. And I'm not in the mood for boy talk." Boy talk . . . Oh boy. All the loser boys that I know only talk about the parties they went to, are going to go to, or are planning to plan. The girls they have slept with, the girls they are going to sleep with, or the girls they WANT to sleep with. The bodies of the previously mentioned individuals. How they act when they're drunk. Everything they say is very gratuatous. They just talk to hear themselves talk, not because they have anything to say. I don't want to be a part of it.

I quite failed in my endeavors to avoid my former friends yesterday. I sat down by myself to enjoy a quick, quiet meal, and within 5 minutes, my table was full of lively, chattery chicks. It wasn't too terrible -- I just wish that people would leave me alone when they don't like me. Insisting on hanging around me when they don't like me in the first place is adding insult to injury.

Finally, I was able to have time to myself. Away from my "friends." It was pretty cool. Cuz I found out that when you get rid of the exclusive, arrogant, selfish friends, you find out that you have a lot more friends than you thought you did. Sometimes you have to lose something in order to find something. I was in the Terrace when Nick stopped to chat. Nick is cool. He's my boss, but he doesn't hit on me. I really appreciate that. When I got up to leave, someone said, "Hey MJ" I looked up and this guy said, "Hi. I'm in your Short Story class. Did you understand anything from that story we read today?" Lol -- It was Justin, and I giggled when I got done talking to him. I must have made quite an impression on him with my presentation yesterday because he actually remembered my name.

I went to read a story for Short Story after dinner. Then I went to a poetry reading. I don't like poetry. Poetry makes me sick. Ew, ew, ew. Reading 17 Emily Dickenson poems in one day and having to answer 10 questions about each of them does that to you. Oh -- and I wasn't impressed with the one and only reading I'd attended before this one. It was my freshman year, and the poet had no respect for anyone but himself. He read poems that made fun of his wife, his children, his parents and government officials. He was using words as weapons. Making words weapons debases them. It turns a thing of beauty into pain and suffering. That is wrong.

Poetry is kind of a love/hate thing for me. I love the sound of poetry but I hate poetry because it doesn't make sense to me and I don't see the point of writing something if no one can figure out what it means. I did enjoy the reading though. It's different when the person who wrote the poem explains the thoughts behind the poem. But I don't get it -- if they have to be explained, then what is the point of publishing it in the first place?

I went to sit in Charter to finish my story after that. Sarah was there. And I cried. Sarah is one of those. Awful. Mean-spirited. She thinks she can buy my friendship. But she can't. She asked me what I was doing. When I said I was doing homework she said, "Never mind then" in a cruel way. She left and I cried. She's never said a single nice thing to me. I grabbed a notebook out of my backpack and started to write. Oddly, it turned out almost like poetry. Nikki K. and Lisa came and they asked me what was wrong. They asked if we could pray together before they went to Cru. That made me cry more. I did end up going with them, even though it was the last place I wanted to be at the time. It was ok. I stayed away from Sarah.

Yesterday was a poetry day. Honestly. I talked to a friend that I hadn't talked to in a while, and I told him about going to the poetry reading and he said that he had a book of Longfellow's poems. I told him to look up "The Courtship of Miles Standish" and check it out because it's a really good poem. I kinda like Longfellow. HOMEWORK: Everyone needs to find a copy of "The Courtship of Miles Standish" and read it. It's rather long. It's like 17 pages long, but it is an amazing, true story. And if it hadn't happened like that, then Longfellow would never have been born. Nor would I. (Longfellow and I are both descendants of the main characters in the poem.) Others of Longfellow's poems include "Hiawatha" and "Paul Revere's Ride." For hating poetry, I sure know a lot about it . . .

I really appreciate having true friends. Nikki K. and I talked until nearly 3:00 this morning. We talked about all the things that really matter most -- like life and love and happiness and then the Holy Ghost. Yay! And poetry. And stories. I read the reading part of my presentation to her because it was just so intriguing. I had to tell my class about D.H. Lawrence and then read a page from the story. We had read "The Horse Dealer's Daughter." It's an interesting story. It's a story about a woman who had been rather affluent but then her father died and the family business died as well and she became poor. Her brothers didn't care about her. They didn't want to have to worry about her so they told her she should do this or that and she never acted like she heard what they said. She had nothing to lose. No one cared. She decided to drown herself. She walked into the pond, but before she drowned, the doctor saw her in the water and went in himself to rescue her, even though he didn't know how to swim. It was really quite interesting because it sounds like the woman was so starved for love, but she really didn't know what love was. She thought that since the doctor had rescued her, then he must love her. But he did it because it was his job. He was a doctor, she was a patient. She kept telling him that he had to love her and that she knew he loved her, and he kept thinking how distasteful she was and how he never dreamed of loving her and didn't want to love her, but he couldn't not love her. The whole scene probably only would have lasted 5 minutes, but in those 5 minutes, the doctor went from not caring about her at all except that she was someone who was sick to being passionately in love with her, willing to drop everything and marry her the next day. It was quite intriguing.

This morning, Sarah called me, asking if I could work for her today. :-/ I so would have said no, but Nick is a good boss, and if I didn't do it, it would have made it hard for him. So I said I would. She said, "MJ, you're my hero." I said, "No, I'm not." Because I'm not. She's just trying to buy my friendship. I won't be bought. Never. Not by her. That girl makes me want to vomit. I had to talk to her for five minutes today because Nick didn't clarify which of us was supposed to work at 2 today, and when I came back to my room, I felt nauseous. It was sad.

~MJ