People who refuse to grow up

There’s a certain person…let’s call her the missing roommate (MR). She decides to move into our apartment, and never shows up but pays rent. Then she starts coming to our ward. She always has these excuses for not moving in like “having to help her dad take care of her younger siblings.” I was thinking, she must be like younger than me. Then I found out she’s getting her PhD. Still, I thought she could be like 23 because Samantha my old roommate is getting HER PhD and she’s a year younger than me. Anyway, so then MR decides to stay after church for home teaching with me and my other roommate. The ht’s ask her about herself, and she starts talking and I start calculating her age. And she worked for 3 years after graduation AND THEN went to school for 2 years for a masters. So she’s not 23. She’s like, 27 or 28…MINIMUM. That’s IF she graduated when she was 22. Anyway, that is WAY TOO OLD to be living with your mommy and daddy. Especially when she is commuting to school AN HOUR AND A HALF ONE WAY every day. And of course, she hasn’t told us she’s moving out, she just posted it on the housing list. WHy wouldn’t she tell us? Don’t ask me. But that’s lame, and seriously, still living with your parents when you’re 27? That’s even lamer.

Sweet sweet karma

My favorite John Lennon song is Instant Karma! I know that technically I should like Imagine better, but that’s cliche, and I might have been obsessed with another song of his when I was in Scotland and listened to it all day, but even though I love it I can never love it more than Instant Karma! (which is SUPPOSED to have the exclamation point after it, I’m not putting it there because I’m excited about the song). <– see how I put the period after the sentence? That’s because the “!” is not the end of the sentence.

Anyway, I know this is my angry blog, but I was really angry about something that I really shouldn’t be angry about because it has no effect on me. Today I learned that the person received a healthy dose of instant karma for what they did. Should I be happy about this? No. But it’s nice to see some justice in the world – like when cheaters get caught or reckless drivers get tickets, what happened to this person was within the scope of what they did (argh now I sound like a 1L, throwing around random legal phrases to sound smart but not knowing how to use them – but what I mean is, it’s not like they stole a cookie and got hit with a car, but like, the cookie made them sick) and wasn’t punished beyond what they did, which would be unfair, but got exactly what they deserved. They probably won’t even think of it as karma, but whatever. I do, and it’s nice.

Instant Karma’s going to get you…

Things I dislike TODAY

1. When my sportsbra chafs right on that part just below my boobs in the middle where the elastic band of the bra goes. It does it JUST OFTEN enough to be really irritating, but not often enough for me to remember and take precautions like, um, wearing a band aid? Of course, it’s not a problem for normal bras. Right now I’m treating it with neosporin and hoping it stops hurting soon.

2. Cooking for myself. Why did they invent housewives if people were supposed to cook for themselves? (that is a SILLY question, obviously I’m not serious) I mean, I hate cooking, and I don’t want to cook for myself, but I hate eating out because it’s expensive and fatty. I need someone who will come live with me and be my cook. And do my laundry. Any takers? (Oh wait, no one reads this blog anyway)

3. That’s really about it for today.

my feet

I love my feet, except for two things:

1. They’re too big. It’s almost impossible to find shoes to fit, because apparently people with long feet also have FAT feet. My feet are not fat, they’re just a little longer than most women’s feet. Also, I’m 5′6″, and my feet are bigger than some of my friends who are 2, 3, even 4 inches taller. What the heck? I was looking at Nike.com because I’ve been secretly coveting a pair of the new Nike skylons (BYU never gave me a pair after they brought the Skylon back, wahhhhh, life is so hard for me) and I just wanted to see if they had them in my size (11.5) and NO, they don’t. When I am a rich successful lawyer I will sue the shoe companies to make shoes in my size.

2. They smell. Why do my feet have to smell? It’s so annoying. Nearly every pair of shoes I have is ruined, not because they get holes, but because they start stinking. And once I can smell them when I’m wearing them (seated in a normal position, not like, with my foot next to my nose or something) it’s time to get rid of them.

Thanks a lot feet! What did I ever do to you? Admittedly, that stress fracture I ran through and the cyst (that went away! yay!) were both my fault, but the random blisters? The corns and calluses? The big toes that point upwards, making me have to buy even BIGGER shoes than normal people would? I’m just saying, feet, you guys could be a little nicer.

Actually there’s a third reason why I’m mad at my feet:

3. What the heck, BIG RIGHT TOE? What is wrong with you? I ran Wasatch Back relay A YEAR AGO and you’re still hurting? I took a week off in February, two weeks off in April, now I’m in the middle of basically a MONTH off and I bet anything that when I start running again it will still hurt. Stupid reverse turf toe or whatever. And now you’ve started transferring pain to the LEFT big toe? NOT COOL.

grrrrr

I dislike not being able to run because it’s too hot outside. Also, I don’t like it when I try and do origami but it doesn’t turn out right because I can’t understand the directions. And I don’t like it when I can’t understand what people tell me because their accents are impossible and so I just say “Ok” but for all I know I just sold myself into slavery. Oh, and I don’t like people who are more selfish than me (which is saying something).

Another thing that makes me angry

is when your boss from your internship blindsides you with a B grade for your class. I’m sorry, did you not say EVERY SINGLE DAY that I was the BEST intern you ever had? I thought that meant I was getting an A. Apparently it meant that your old interns were really terrible. And I didn’t think I was being graded on my ability to argue with you about politics. You guys YELLED at each other like every other day and had these horrible fights with other people, so when you asked me what I thought about politics I didn’t say much, because I’m sorry, but I didn’t want you yelling at me too. And if you had wanted my paper BEFORE giving me my grade, you should have said something AGES ago – like, when I said I wouldn’t get you the paper until June. My motivation to write a good paper has now gone staight down the toliet. 

What have I learned from this? I don’t know, but all of the good memories from the internship are officially clouded over with my intense hatred for the people I worked for. Maybe it’s a bit of an over-reaction, but here’s the thing: unlike a normal class where a teacher has to give out some Bs and stuff so that there’s a nice curve, my boss in Scotland can give me whatever grade he wants. His life doesn’t change either way. It’s not like he needed to make a point to me – if he had a problem with my work he should have said so like…back in February. Not in May, when I’ve been gone for a month, and not by just saying “Well, here’s a B, you could have done this and this better” even though I asked them what I needed to do better all the time. This is why SCOTLAND WILL NEVER BE ITS OWN COUNTRY. It doesn’t deserve it. Yes, that’s right, Scotland should remain a part of the UK, unless, of course, England decides it’s not worth it to keep it hanging on. The SNP is screwed up, Scotland is screwed up, and a certain MSP is screwed up. Go ahead, search me online and read about what I said. I’m an American and we love our Westerns, and as Clint Eastwood said “Go ahead, MAKE MY DAY.”

I am a moron

I took this book on women’s sports with me to Scotland and didn’t look at it the whole time I was there. Then, I stupidly LEAVE IT IN VIRGINIA when I had my 6 hour stop over before heading out to Utah TO DEAL WITH MY THESIS STUFF. Sometimes I think I’m really smart, but then I go and do something like drag a book I don’t need around for 4 months only to leave it 2000 miles away when I do need it. Luckily the library has a copy…hopefully some other moron doesn’t have it checked out right now or something. And speaking of that, I would like to apologize to any student at BYU who attempted to check out a book on women’s sports for the past 5 months. Yes, I will be returning them soon.

Something that makes me angry

is the fact that I can’t just move back to London next week because I want to. And I also do not like the fact that my feet as smelly. I’m not sure which thing I dislike more: not being in London or having stinky feet. I think both of those problems bother me on a daily basis, and I think both are equally annoying to those around me. People are probably tired of my “When I was in the UK” stories, but they are also probably really tired of my feet smelling. No matter how often I shower they still smell, and no matter how much time I spend in America I still want to go back to London. Since the foot thing is unsolveable, I guess the only way to improve my life is by moving back to London. Hmmm.

If I ever have children…

I will NOT name them lame things like “Maybree” or “Kyrker” or “Dreysen.” Seriously, what’s up with that? Names like that make me want to hurl. Another thing that is equally horrific that people do to their babies is dress them up like flowers and stick them in pots of dirt and take pictures. Anne Geddes is soooo 1995, okay? Get over it. Your baby is NOT cute lying in that paper bag with a ribbon tied around it. Gross. And, also, what’s up with this stay at home mom thing for pregnant women? Remember the Trail of Tears where the Cherokee (?) indians were marched 1000 miles in the winter to a new reservation? Yeah, those women just popped their babies out and kept walking (of course, lots of people died along the way which is very sad, but not the point). What is wrong with women these days? Where have all the feminists gone? Does getting married automatically resign to a life where you sit at home all day and draw up plans on how you have your baby photographed (“No, not a ROSE stuck to her head, a GERBERA DAISY. Not just any old daisy – a GERBERA DAISY.”)? It sends shivers down my spine. I love seriouslysoblessed, but when I stalk other people’s blogs and I discover that yes, people like TAMN actually exist…it makes me throw up a little in my mouth.

On the other hand, taking pictures of your newborn inside a beer stein is a GREAT idea. Especially if the mug is filled with beer! Of course, the baby’s head should be placed right side up so that it actually survives the endeavor, but you know, if you put it in the wrong way, you’ll be popping out ten more anyway so really, would you miss that one?

Attention sidewalk walkers:

Okay, so let’s pretend that you and a friend are out for a leisurely jog. All of a sudden you look up and like, 50 feet ahead of you is a runner coming towards you. Now, what should you do? The courteous thing would be to have one of you move behind the other so that the other runner can come through. Unfortunately THAT NEVER HAPPENS IN SCOTLAND. What the heck, people? Be kind and move your butt out of the way. I have had to step into the street like 100 times here because people walking or running two wide won’t move! Now, I understand if I’m coming up BEHIND someone – they often can’t hear me and I don’t have a problem with having to step into the road to go around people who don’t know I’m there. But seriously, when someone is coming STRAIGHT towards you? Either these people are totally blind or just really rude. And I didn’t see an guide dogs or walking canes, so I’m assuming it’s the latter.