There was this one time...

That I made a little booklet:

To Achieve Gender Appropriateness in Conversation
A few hints and clues to a better conversation with members of the opposite gender.

Things to Avoid in the Presences of Males
1. Personal information
2. Parts of bodies that are not usually seen by others, such as stomachs
3. Information about rooms that are personal, such as bedrooms
4. Any confessional information, such as who someone has(does) liked
5. Weird things that one has said, while not necessarily thinking coherently


If that list is too general, here is a more specific list:
Crushes
The T-One lists
Toilet paper
Bathrooms
Odd illnesses
Eligibility in the dating realm
Alpacas
Quoting girlish thoughts
Moments of extreme oddness
Afore-mentioned males
Others’ childhood stories without permission
Breeding methods
Checking off a guy from the eligibility list
Dates
Grapes
Poor performances
Odd idiosyncrasies
Comments about guys

A General Rule of Thumb

Pretend that any information to be stated is about you. If you wouldn’t like if it were shared, do not share. If you wouldn’t mind, take into consideration who the information is about, and how he/she normally handles that type of information.

Gender Appropriate Topics
Weather patterns
The wet plains in Spain
Sacrament meeting talks
Firesides and Devotionals
The difference between an apple and an orange
Families… with moderation
Music
Literature
School progression
Lessons learned for the betterment of self (with moderation)
The distance of the astronomical sphere
Critiquing a piece of art
Trends of the stock market
Cultures from around the world
Missions
Games (those sold in stores, such as Monopoly)
Beauty of Nature
Welfare of the person (health… a polite inquiry, not much more)
Political issued surfacing in America
Respectful complimenting




And now… everyone keeps apologizing about saying something that is in the book.

PS… this copy is a slight alteration

"I thought Dodos were extinct!"

You know those people that a thought similar to that crosses your head. From actions, words, or appearance such thoughts arise because of them. Yeah. You feel sorry for them, while wondering if they are trying to make a statement. And if so, what statement could they possibly be trying to convey?!!

You remember that a little while ago Adriane wished that she could rewind those past few days? Well, I am more than wishing that I could rewind and replay this past day and a half.

Yesterday. Oh. I really wish that that did not happen. I let go of dignity for a couple minutes. Now all I am left with is extreme embarrassment and deep regret. And then today to top it off. I looked in the mirror a little bit ago, and those “I thought the Dodos were extinct!”-people became frighteningly the group that I most resemble. That was from today. Stupid pen! Stupid hair tie! Dumb Me!!!

Annie, since you did it for Adriane, could you snap your fingers for me too? Please!

Insomnia? Or just plain weird?!

INSOMNIA
Pronunciation: in-'säm-nE-&
Function: noun
Etymology: Latin, from insomnis sleepless, from in- + somnus sleep
: prolonged and usually abnormal inability to obtain adequate sleep
- in·som·ni·ac /-nE-"ak/ adjective or noun

An inability to sleep. Yep that is me. Wanna know what happened last night? It is rather scary: well, not really. Just for the dumb dodo brain that had to live through it.

It was late. The lights were out. No lurking figure from an infamous mafia stalked the apartment like the foggy gloom haunting Lancaster in the September morning chill. The abode left in silence, the weapon fully loaded and safely secured at a mere arm’s reach, I went to bed. Careful, silent, and listening. Two unknown shady characters walk at an unusual clip in the night, at an inconvenient hour. They clung to the shadows and escaped recognition.

I lay there in a sure haven, knowing that none could end my existence this night. Seconds ticked by with the hallow clanking of the Sterling & Nobel Alarm. The seconds culminate into minutes, upon minutes, upon….

No longer could I take such torture. The days of forced sleep should have fled from the many years previous. I arose and found guidance in the Conference Edition of the May 2005 Ensign. “Ah,” thought I, “a little heavenly message to sooth my troubled mind.”

I read “A Still, Small Voice and a Throbbing Heart,” by Bishop Richard C, Edgley. But I could not stop there. I continued to read, bolstered by the good word of the Lord for our modern day until I concluded President Hinckley’s talk, “The Great Things Which God Has Revealed.” One after the other, I read until the time read 5:00.

I forced myself back in between the covers. I lay thus for the space of one half hour. Then I thought about my calling and everything began to fit into some semblance of order. After writing it all down, and diagramming/outlining the rest of the school term, I tried yet again to sleep. I began thinking about various times in my life. Different experiences that I have had. Upon reflecting upon these reflections, I realized there was a common theme: they all included the same guy.

What went through my head? AHHH. That is what. No I do not “like” this guy. No I do not “fancy” this guy in any way. It just happened to be that freak coincidence. Truly, I am not lying in this case.

Disturbed at the guy thinking thing, I prepared myself for my day… mind you it is a quarter to seven in the morning. I don’t have class until 10. I did everything that I could thing of to do. I arranged my room, made my bed twice, redid my nails, tried four different hair do’s (ended up with a sorry looking pony tail). Read in The Book of Mormon, Das Buch Mormon, and Preach my Gospel. I wrote a letter (quite long and detailed…complete with four diagrams) to my sister in the MTC, strategize for later in the day, when it would be just and fair to enact upon others.

Then, at ten to 8 am, I received a call. Hanging up the receiver, I was tempted to cry. I withheld, however. As part of the Mafia, losses have to be taken and handled with stone heartedness. After the call I was afraid to venture from my bedroom, worried I was that some unwelcomed creature lie in wait for me in the kitchen, planning the most devious of deaths. I worked up the gusto though and walked to campus… well started to but then an angel of mercy decided that she did not want to see me dead ( I must look too awful alive to not want to see me dead).

Class was class. Only half of the students show up on a good day. Today was not a good day. After class I warily walked home. Every dozen steps or so I glanced over my shoulder to ensure that I wasn’t about to die. I made it to the apartment. I am yet alive!

The weirdest thing is that it feels that I have had a full 8 hours of sleep.

My World is an Oyster

Life appears as a dreary existence of heartache and poignant misery when:
1.) Hours upon hours of dedicated work to a cause only renders the average benefits
2.) Your brother, young and impressionable, has a Xanga site that is entitled “Hopes and Dreams crushed… love hurts.”
3.) You cannot trust friends for the fear of ulterior plans, such as ending your life
4.) Sleep is evasive and won’t come softly in the night
5.) The only constant companion is an incessant headache

But even though those are dampening points in life (at least mine), I am strangely at peace in my little world. Although I spend myriads of time to devoted study for my Arabic class and can only get mediocre grades, I am thrilled with what I have learned and what lies ahead to be learned. While it may be depressing that my brother feels that there is little in his life that is worth the pain at this time, I am eternally grateful that he is willing to talk with me and share his thoughts with me. And although there is an air of distrust floating near at every waking moment, the need for allusiveness is thrilling. And although I have been averaging three and a half hours of sleep each night for the past week and a half, I am not fatigued to the point of mortal exhaustion. And although the only companion that is willing to stay with me through it all is a headache that ranges from a jack-hammer throb to a constant pain creeping from the neck upwards, it is alright because I know that I am blessed to know that pain is but a means of spiritual reminding.

Things are all right in my world. And for that, I am truly grateful and happy.

Lahalla In A Minor

Lalla Laahla Lahhhla la al ala!
I am bor’da. Laddy dada!
Too mucha homework’ kaa!
Insane’aa I’ amma!
Lalla Laahla Laddy Daa.

Left Breathlessly Awed

Today, after my class was over, my intermission for studying fulfilled, the dialogue appointment for Arabic successfully executed, and a slow, meandering walk home in a drizzly atmosphere, and after I had straightened the humble abode in which I dwell, I picked up the phone and dialed 9-1800-506-9511-46XX-85XX-39XX-701-282-72XX.

Twelve hundred miles away, my mother answered, her voice as clear as the gentle wind. At my home in far away North Dakota, in the southern corner of the state, outside the town called Fargo, in a nook of the Sheyenne River, in a two story pale blue house, in a large kitchen painted forest green with shimmering flecks of gold, the daycare children were making puzzles out of homemade drawings.

Amanda was inquisitive, Jacob was commanding, Alexandra was adorably sweet, Shandra was whimpering. Amy was humming, Adam was passing through, and Mom was reading a letter from Elizabeth. Elizabeth was relaying a story of gratitude for my mother. Ashley was rehearsing for her play. Daddy was working with a client.

And I was left in awe.

This truly is God’s Work and His Glory.
The Family.
My family.

"and its ONE, TWO, THREE Strikes you're out at the old Ballgame!"

What is everyone up to this weekend? do you have a little time you could fit in to play with Maria? Wanna go to a baseball game? Please... (puppy eyes...pouty lip...slight tearing...)

Pweeese?

STRIKE TWO

I am not one to be very biased against stores. They simply sell their items at varying prices with varying qualities. Sometimes I like to go to the further away stores because it provides an adequate excuse to drive longer. Other times I like to go to the store that is a moderate distance thence because of the layout which is aesthetically pleasing. And then there are the times that I like to go to the stores that are really close because I am short on time.

Fine, right? Yep. I think so.

But now…

There is a store that I am on the verge of refusing to ever step foot into again.

If it was the far away store…it definitely would be off my list.
If it was the aesthetically pleasing store…it most assuredly would be no more desirable.

But, because it is the really close one…

Have you guessed it yet?

Strike two against the store happened yesterday…around 6:45 p.m.

First the Peruvian Man

Then the Mexican Man



I refuse to let there be a third!

Not the Least Bit Intriguing

So things have not been going so wonderfully for me in the past week or so. I could never contact the management for the Villa. I could never get a hold of the internet people (a. I kept dialing the wrong number & b. They were busy every time I dialed it correctly). I was not able to solve my roommate deficiency. My back has been doing spastic things to me. Yadda yadda ya.

But today. Here is what transpired.

12:00-3:00 am: tried to sleep, but was unable to
3:00: I drug myself out of my bed and worked on homework and reviewing
5:00: Went back to bed and was actually able to sleep.
9:00: Got ready for class & prayed really hard that things would work out soon
9:20: Walked to campus
10:00: Was confused, but was able to organize that confusion (Arabic does this to you)
12:00: Came back to the apartment
12:10: Went to the Villa’s office and actually caught them!
12:15: Went shopping
1:00: Copied the police report for the insurance company
1:30: Returned to the apartment and found a note on the floor
I was so excited… I thought it was Adriane or Annie
It was Lydia, my new roommate
2:00: Arabic homework
3:00: Arabic homework
4:00: Went to the Chiropractor
My back still hurts, but at least it is not pinching any nerves…nor is my neck.
5:00: Came back, drank some ginger beer, went to get the mail, briefly talked with Jon, and
started homework
5:30: Gave up on the homework and decided to write a blog…even though there is
nothing overly exciting in my life to share with ya’ll

I also have FHE tonight. In apartment 68, Ruth is my “mother”. So far she is a single mother. She told us yesterday that our family is dysfunctional from the get-go.

Hmm. I thought dysfunctional was spelt with an ‘I’ and not a ‘y.’