How do you feel about Wednesday?

The other day, I was cleaning out my room for the umpteenth time. I'm such a pack rat. *sigh* At any rate, I was tossing out a ton of stuff I had gotten throughout high school from various colleges. Why did I have all that mail lying around anyway... I think it was something about wanting to see if I could top my dad's supposedly large collection, and wondering what colleges thought I was significant. Rather an ego boost, especially now when I've gone from a stand out high schooler to student number 12,308... its always nice to know that there were those fancy, exclusive colleges that sent me letters about how they believed I would fit right in with their outstanding student body and had a good shot at their impressive scholarships if I should decide to apply... I never felt the need to correct them on this point, their misguided faith was rather endearing...

My family recycles. This does fit in, really, I promise. My mom wanted me to sort through this massive collection in order to recycle it, instead of just tossing it in the trash. (Perhaps this will help debunk the myth that conservative Christians aren't out to destroy the environment, huh Micah? :D But that's off topic...) As I opened envelopes, tossing leaflets and prospectus (is that prospecti in plural, or prospectuses?) into the appropriate recycling piles, I came across one that intrigued me. It was from Macalester College in Minnesota. I remembered being interested in them when I first got their little booklet and such, since they marketed themselves as distinctly NOT Ivy League, represented by an illustration similar to:

(a bit nicer looking than that, obviously) and below the claim that Macalester College is "an excellent place to get an Ivy-caliber education." I casually glanced at their application, thinking to myself, could I really have gotten into a private school, where they actually make you fill something out that requires time, effort, and dare I say, actual talent? I've sometimes thought to myself, that perhaps high school was my pinnacle, and I'm declining into the twilight period of my life, or at least my academic career. Well, sometimes is perhaps inferring something more frequent than actually has occurred, perhaps it was only twice.

Irregardless of the previous frequency of these thoughts, the fact of the matter was that they returned, and with a vengance. I began to more closly examine the applications from the various schools, in an attempt to ascertain whether or not I am currently capable of putting together something at least semi-marketable. I soon ran across "the uncommon application" from the University of Chicago, and looked through the essay options for the infamous 1-2 page essay. One caught my eye, being so simple and open, yet intriguing. "How do you feel about Wednesday?" (they credited it as "inspired by Maximilian Pascual Ortega, a graduate of Maine Township High School South," which is, funnily enough, in Illinois) This question has been one I've begun to contemplate, but, as of yet, have not determined any solid answers. I think, in a future post... and I mean "future post" in the most vague sense possible, I shall attempt to answer this question. However, in the mean time, I shall leave it as a question to you, dear reader, if you really do exist. Feel free to leave an answer and satiate my curiosity!

Changes, sunburns, and high altitudes

Firstly, I'm changing to blogspot, because my mom informed me that on bravejournal, there are some creepy ads, and she told me that she noticed blogspot didn't have ads, except for blogspot, which isn't creepy. So, I've transferred everything over here... all my posts as well as their comments (the dates on the comments are messed up, but the entries are the same) which took not very long at all. I love copy paste! But I'll still leave the other one up for quite some time, so that everyone can find this, and doesn't just think, oh nuts, she quit writing. Okay, so actually it'd probably be rejoicing, but don't burst my bubble. :D

Secondly, I got slightly sunburned yesterday. I went to G-town, and Ian and I had a fabulous picnic up at Mount Sunflower! No photo — we didn't bring cameras. oops.

Slightly windy, but we got to see an antelope close. And it was so polite: it tried to hide the fact that it was staring at us by eating every time we looked up at it. And then we walked the 1/2 mile to the state line. Or at least I think so. We assumed it was the fence, but it seemed really far... perhaps we were in Colorado longer than we thought. Oh well. And FYI, there are a stinking lot of cacti between the monument thing and the fence. I got to play nurse and remove some spikes from Ian's foot and hand. For having no nails, I was impressed with my bare-handed tweezing skills! And we didn't run into any poisonous snakes. I have good experience with non-poisonous bites, just not fangs. So, in case, we went over emergency protocol... tourniquet, suck the poison out, drive fast to the hospital. (However, at church talking to a nurse and EMT, I found out that this is no longer recommended, but perhaps in our situation it would have been the best, they said, since there'd be exercise, and therefore more circulation, in getting to the vehicle, and we were t-minus phones, and in flip flops...) However, there were no snake attacks, so no worries! But I burnt without realizing it, and have nice watch and bracelet lines on my hand, and some fun capri ones on my legs. I know you burn more easily at higher altitudes, due to thinner air. I suspect that the fast burn was due to the extraordinarily high altitudes there at Mount Sunflower. You really have to be careful up there, altitude sickness really can get you, and if you drive up, you should probably stop halfway down when you leave, so the brakes can cool off.

But anyway, I'm not too thrilled about my weird arm and leg tan lines, despite the humor of them. Thankfully though, they are now not so noticeable after my fun pool trip with Karen. The water was perfect! And I was reminded how quickly I get darker, so maybe I won't look like a ghost this summer, since we're turning the visits into a weekly ritual.

Anyway, I think that's really all I got today. I'm rather scatterbrained right now. So to conclude, remember to wear sunscreen when out of doors to avoid pain, and never listen to John Mayer. He's gross, and creepy, seriously. You want a guy with a guitar, you can do much better than him!

i hate wranglers

This is amazing. Its summer, I'm working, and I'm posting twice in one week! Mainly for the fact that I need to vent again. Not about the girls who occupied our house previously and couldn't clean up after themselves or their cat, but about wranglers, and more specifically, starched wranglers.

Now, I've never been particularly fond of cowboys and their two-sizes-too small jeans. (or anything country for that matter. like overplayed country songs. and you thought boulevard of broken dreams was hell, huh, Ian. but I'm getting off subject...) I don't understand how anyone in their right mind can find a cowboy attractive. I understand the purpose of the clothing for more functional reasons... but the appearance is one I personally find revolting. But to each his own, I suppose. My problems comes when said cowboys bring in umpteen pairs of jeans, and want them heavily starched and pressed. Honestly, how can they be comfortable like that? When you literally have to jump into your slacks, I think there are some serious mental issues there. Perhaps they've been with the cows just a little too long. At any rate, these jeans require a lot of work. First the starching, then the hang drying, then taking these boards, I mean pants, spraying them down with a mist until you can slightly manipulate the fabric, then pressing around the tops. That's the easy part. Then you have to spray down the legs. First one,then somehow wrestle with the leg until you get it lined up correctly (virtually impossible with the starch), then you press the front half of the leg, and leave it sitting for a good 10 minutes to dry. Then you press the back side of the leg. Then you repeat with the other leg. And not only do you have to worry about fighting the solid fabric, but wrangler's had this fabulous idea. "lets put metal bits everywhere on the tops of these jeans." For reinforcement, right? Nope. They wanted to brand their logo into the hands of every person who presses them. I've come close, but fortunately have managed to escape... so far. And not only is the metal hot, but the fabric is hot too, when its straight off the sizzling griddle, i mean press. Then you hang the jeans. Which really isn't an appropriate term. they kind of arch over the hanger, and the pants feel like cardboard. Then you start all over again on another pair.

Now, I really do like my job. The people are great, and I don't mind the laundry and pressing in general. I just take issue doing something that takes forever and seems to serve no point other than to torture the wearer of the jeans... really, and they PAY for it! Alas, it is something we must do. As for all the starched jean wearers out there, I have nothing but ill will, and wishes that your chicken is raw... wow, I need to stop listening to those country songs... *sigh*

on a final note, don't forget to check out the one campaign!

exhaustion, satisfaction, and the tanning squirrels of manhappenin

It's been forever, I know, but work has kept me busy, among other things. And I kill myself. Going to bed super late and getting up early for work is definitely starting to catch up with me, especially this past weekend, which I spent mostly helping out at our house, cleaning blinds, cleaning cat hair out of floor vents, and painting ridiculously tall closets with confusing shelving. I had issues putting it back in my closet. And I'd like to vent. The girls who occupied (I don't like to use the phrase 'lived in' for the fact that we have postulated that they only crashed there.) the house previously never cleaned, and had a cat. In a couple vents the cat hair was a good quarter inch if not more deep. yummy. hopefully you didn't just eat. The closet painting was fun, no ventilation up there. You could only see the lower half of my legs (as in the lower half if you start counting from the knee) in the door, when I was on a bunk ladder propped against the pole thing that you hang your clothes on (for being an English major, I really am at a loss of word quite often). And the roof leaks, it fell in on Lindsey, the washer leaked, the laundry room still smells like cat... but it's starting to come together, and it's looking good. I can't wait until y'all get to come check it out! And we'll have plenty of sleeping spots, so you're definitely welcome to crash (well, girls anyway). And we've determined with our fridge surplus and knife surplus, we're going to start a dessert business, and an assassin business, and rent out sleeping spots on game weekends, to help cover costs. More randomness, I saw a squirrel tanning on the peak of the roof at the neighbor's, and it was just about the funniest thing I've ever seen. I'd illustrate with photo, but I was t-minus a camera at the time.

And tonight I saw a special on Brad Pitt, mostly him raising awareness for children in Africa, through the ONE campaign. I have a bracelet, but after hearing more about it, and seeing those kids, wow. You should all check it out!

Anyway, seeing him with those kids, and talking about the campaign, and him using the extra media attention about him and Jennifer Aniston's breakup to get more attention for the campaign (very clever, I might add) has definitely impressed me. No, not because he's a good looking older actor, but because I think he really cares, and is doing something about it. Anyway, you should check it out, sign the pledge, all that. It's an excellent cause, support from everyone from actors (whose political views I generally don't share) to conservatives... groups like World Vision are a part of it...

anyway, *gets off soapbox* hope you're having a wonderful summer. Apologies for randomness, but I think the paint fumes are still slightly in effect, and I'm still a wee bit tired from this weekend.