Don't even have the will to think of a good title

Observation #6: Finals week sucks spirit

My week has consisted of
-Failing Finals (not really, just feels like it)
-Getting a ticket
-Having all travel plans fall out completely
-Getting dumped

Yes this is the only reason why I am blogging; to complain. I feel like I am hooked to that machine in monsters inc. and my creativity has just been sucked dry. Please, pity me

I'm Dreaming of a Dry Christmas

Observation #5: The snow makes every situation worse

So my blogging has been slackin but there is reason for it. I was embarrassed. I did not get a date with cute art boy, but I did get a date with a different guy. And he's cuter.
Anyways, my hate for the snow has grown over time to become a loath that I cannot contain, so I blog about it. At first I greeted snow as a new friend but after a few butt-flattenings and frost-bitten feet, our relationship turned sour. The snow really proved itself on my drive down to Utah. I was already driving 4 hours on 4 hours of sleep, the snow just magnified the bad experience. Especially since that 4 hours of sleep was a rerun from the 2 nights previous. As I arrived in the momentary snow-free Utah yesterday, I embraced the break from the wet dandruff. But the snow knew I arrived and made a visit. As my family went out to enjoy this new visitor, I decided to show it who was boss. I wore jeans into the snow to prove that it could not change my lifestyle. As Jane Austen wisely wrote in Pride and Prejudice, "Angry people are not always wise." My ride home with numb legs humbled me a little.

I DO Try Mom...

Observation #4: Harry Potter helps every situation

So it has been almost a month and a half into the Idaho dating world, and still I have no date.
I guess they all got the memo about me being a dork. Or maybe they all just read my blog.
Well whatever the reason may be, I still have no dates to record, but I do have a potential date.
You know your life is pathetic when you blog about potential dates...

Anyways, here's the story:
In my art class this cute boy sat next to me, we talked, he was funny, and he laughed at my jokes! Then, right before class starts, he excuses himself. For the rest of class I awaited his return but was disappointed when all I had of him was his spiral notebook and his pencil. Yes, he just left them sitting open next to me. So I did what anyone would do. I wrote "Captured by Voldemort?" on the blank page. I didn't see him the rest of class but I hoped he wouldn't leave his stuff there so he could see my clever note.
The next week at class I see him, and I know he sees me since I sat 2 rows in front of him. He didn't talk to me...
The week after that he comes and sits next to me. I pretend like I don't see him in case he dubbed me as "the weird harry potter chick," but to my surprise, he starts talking to me. "Are you the one who wrote 'this' in my binder?" He was smiling, and not like a "shes so weird I'm trying to hold back a laugh" smile.
There's no date yet but next week I plan on using my feminine wiles.
Stay tuned and you might actually get a good story.

Refreshmaned

Observation # 3: College is great.

Really.
Here is a picture that portrays my feelings on the subject:

Yes that is the lovely Leslie Ward in the back representing her well-decorated half of the room. There is a reason I am facing the way I am for if my mom saw my half she might... send a very threatening letter. Wow I just realized that my mom couldn't do anything about it unless this was Hogwarts and that letter was a howler, but if that was the case there would be no complaints. Anyways, where was I? Oh, Leslie and her great decorating skills. We have both tried our hardest to make our 10x10, damp, cinder block cell as homey as possible. But really, are we in college or prison? Shouldn't the want to further improve ourselves be celebrated? Maybe this is just the Rexburg way. I mean nothing else out here is normal so why should our living situation be? Bless them Idahoans. Wow I didn't get a threatening, red, squiggly line under that one. Who knew "Idahoans" was a word. You learn something knew everyday in the college world. Speaking of learning, back to homework...


Sincerely,
Ms. Stoker
(Yes I have reinvented myself to be more sophisticated now that I am a college student. Or people just call me that because they aren't sure what my real name is since Leslie just introduces me as Miss. As you can tell my popularity hasn't increased much in college.)

I Understand The Truth

Observation #2: Fat cheeks are only cute on chipmunks.

No this isn't a post about the largeness of my behind, although I could write a whole blog post and many more about that. All in do time my friends, all in do time. No this is a post about my wisdom showing up and the nice-looking doctor yanking it out. Yes, this is the tale of the wisdom teeth.

You have heard this tale many times, you maybe even have experienced it, but no one can fully understand the truth until it is lived. I understand the truth.

In fact, my cheeks are still trying to recoperate from that truth. If I wasn't so self-concious about my rodent face I would gladly share a most humorous picture that dearest Kaitlyn took (since that is what blogs are about right? No one wants just a bunch of words. No wonder I only have 7 followers... Oh well)but since I am still self-concious, here's a preview:

Tune in next time to see what happens with big cheeks, ADD, and a bed stricken maniac

My Explanation

So I've just realized that I have never explained the title of my blog. I know it may seem a little obvious but you'd be surprised...
I was told to make a blog by my good friend Rachel Schlappi and after seeing that blogging was an even better waste of my time than the 30+ hours I spend on facebook, I converted. Now only 10 hours on facebook and twenty on blogger, what an upgrade!
Anyways, as I was pondering upon the idea of making a blog, I realized that I would have nothing to write about. I know it may seem that my day of water cooler talk and facebook excursions to be exciting and writable, but believe it or not, the daily conversations on taxes and budgets can get tiresome. Not to myself of course. I live for those days of finance drama at the office, but others don't share my pashion. So, I've decided to write about my "latent observations" on the world.
Now I know I have deviated from that a bit but from now on that is what it is about. So I'm going to start right now. Observation of the day:

Observation #1: The mumbling man is actually really funny.

I've probably confused you so here's the story: There is this man that I work with that always passes my desk and says something that I can't ever hear so I usually just give him a laugh/smile/concerned face according to the tone in which he said it. Today I made a goal to listen really closely to what he is saying. So this time when he walked by I heard him say "It's pretty quiet up here" to which I replied, "Oh you just missed the party," then he responded with, "story of my life," and we've been friends ever since. The End.

Zac's Defying Moment

So Kaitlyn and I continued the tradition of our movie watching/analyzing when we saw Charlie St. Cloud together. Our in-depth analysis on Zac Efron would have made any teenage boy sick, but I am proud of the results which are as thus; All men need to watch this movie and take tips from the one they call Charlie St. Cloud.
If you hadn't already discovered my feminism beliefs it will be very obvious now.
Boys are not good enough for us. Booya I said it! This new breed of men that society has regurgitated is just not acceptable. Now I know this is extreme over-generalising and my little brother would say something like "well girls are confusing" right about now, and Cameron would be right, but women are only confusing because men are pigs. Yes, that does make sense. We as women cannot make up our minds because we want a man in our life but we want one who thinks about other things than his "boys" and treats us with, dare I say it, RESPECT! Aretha understood it well. So we cannot decide, but men could make it a little easier on us. Which I will explain right after this short rant.
This movie, like many other chick flicks, raises chicks expectations of men. So boys, word to the wise, bring along a pen and paper and watch this movie, you will be changed for the better. At least we hope.

Just a quick visual

Isn't he great?

A Word From the Socially Unacceptable

Yes this is my second post in one week. Who knew working gave you so much more time on the computer? Certainly not my dad. Anyways, if you (whoever you mysterious cyberspace stalker is) have previously read my blog you will know about the pathetic situation I like to call the crush disease. Actually, I'm going to change that to fancy because "crush" sounds like I'm still in high school and I have studied millions of hours and endured just as many unbearable social encounters to earn the title of "graduate," so I'm going to speak like it. So my fancy has taken a more normal turn of events. It has settled upon a long standing friend. Now you might be thinking that this isn't really a normal fancy but comparatively...
So I'm a relatively confident person right? I mean, I haven't been nervous about a boy since junior high. Well, while this guy was on his way to my house, I couldn't stop fidgeting! I went on facebook but just ended up looking him up. I sat down to watch TV with my little brother, but never satisfied, kept switching channels until he kicked me out. I ended up at the piano but my playing was so shaky that I think I discovered piano vibrato. After his said "fifteen minutes" (puh) he showed up and I was a nervous wreck! I ended up acting super cheesy and fake with the whole "I miss you we NEED to hang out" junk. I believe when he commented on what I was wearing I said "hmm noua shaw." It was quite impressive. I think I blew him away. Really though I don't think he's coming back.

Signed: The Spaz

what high school musical doesn't know

I discovered the secret to popularity. Yes I am aware of the fact that that sounded like the opening to High School Musical 4, but I am willing to let myself sound like a 14 -year old to make my point clear. Anyways (your all thinking), I find that when I want to explain something important my mind wanders to everything unimportant making it impossible to get my point across. In fact, my 10th grade english teacher told me... joke. For reals through, the secret to popularity is ..(suspence).. blogging. In high school I was refered to as "the girl with weird clothes," "leslie's friend" or "cameron's sister." The last one was my favorite considering I went to that school for 3 years and he 1. What a confidence booster. But now that I have a blog people know who I am, want to be my friend, chase me down the street! Not quite, but my point is that I'm cool. I know my few friends that are reading this are thinking that this is merely repercussion from all the years of being picked last in dodgeball but I have reason for my thought! In fact, five people this week have informed me that I needed to update my blog. Five! I don't think five people even showed up to my "sweet 16!" Wasn't so sweet... A girl at Jamba Juice even picked me out and told me that she read my blog. I know that when I post this no one will read it and I will go back to "weird clothes girl," but to those few who take sweet time out of their day to read my blog and ease those horrid high school memories; bless you.

The Medical Results of Bootie Shorts

Warning: children or adults active in watching Hannah Montanna should be dicouraged from reading the bellow script unless accompanied by a sane person. The message below may contain mild language and slightly aggresive side affects. Should not read if pregnant, menstrating, or in love with Miley Cyrus (in other words, girls are encouraged not to read).

Wednesday March 24, 2010 I had the opportunity to participate in one of the great moments of life. The moment of the first viewing of The Last Song. Being one of the pyschos that must read the book before seeing any movie that is based off a book, I was quite excited to see this movie, for unlike any other Nicolas Spark's book, I actually got into this one. Naturally, after finishing the book I watched the trailer 7 times and looked up all the actors until the awaited day of the midnight showing. My willing friend Kaitlyn and I showed up to AMC with sweet & salties, the snuggles, and a large appetite for some man flesh; the necessities for any Nicolas Spark's movie. The much anticipated hour began with the first shot of Miley Cyrus, just a slight drawback of the movie, I thought. Then, she opened her mouth. It was the worst sound I had ever heard! Like a cat falling off a 10-story building. I couldn't believe it! Hannah Montanna was not gonna ruin this movie for me. But as the movie went on, ruin she did. With all of Hannah's bootie shorts and bellie shirts, she had inspired something: the ecnouragement to act. I mean, if people call what she did acting, then I can do that! My acting skills, although underdeveloped, are still exceeding hers that really have not earned the title of "acting skills." She has more of an "acting handicap." Moral of the story, bootie shorts and belly shirts cause a loss of brain cells.

I Know Ned. I wish he knew me...

Everyone has something that they don't like about themselves.
Let me rephrase that, every FEMALE has something they don't like about themselves and my "something" that I recently discovered is this; no matter the circumstances or people in my life I always find myself fancying some boy.
Now some may say this is natural, "You're a teenage girl!" But when all the men in my life are on missions or in college, my "fancies," as Ron Weasley would say, have become stranger. At the beginning of this odd stage, the subject of my crushing was this random boy in my class who seemed different from all the typical mountain view boys, so I subconciously dubed him the one. I did all the things you do when you crush on someone- stare at them in class, facebook stalk them, ask your friends about them- okay I did all the things that I do when I crush on someone. Anyways, I never talked to this guy, until today, and oh was it great. HE'S WEIRD! What a relief. So I was finally over with this odd stage, or so I thought. An hour after I get over Mr. Weird, I went to lunch with my three girlfriends, safe, nothing flirty or romantic about Neds. But today Neds must have really turned up the heat for as soon as I walked through the doors, I saw him. Its love.

Fake it and Make it

Once again my procrastinating has led to favorable results. I used to procrastinate with a "quick" email check (aka facebook), practicing the piano, or my favorite officechair-spinning. But my new method of procrastination has put my chair olympics to shame.
This new method is the beloved blogging.
While I was blog-stalking my good friend Rachel Schlappi, I came upon a little line on the bottom of one of her posts that read "love life...or atleast pretend to and you will." Inspiring! Not sure if her own genious mind inspired it or if it is the words of someone else, but it just made sense! I used to shun this idea, calling it fake, but after months of research, my hypothesis is as such; this idea is genious.
I always wondered why my great aunt who has lost three husbands can still wrap her arm around me and tell me of her good day with the brightest smile whereas the boy in my sixth hour can come to school everyday in his fancy clothing and grimace while he complains about not having a car.
Don't get me wrong, I do it too and maybe that kid is complaining because he gets mugged walking to school everyday. Who knows? But if he put on a bright face and pretended to be happy with his life, he would be!
INSPIRATIONAL! Litterally, be inspired, fake a smile, be happy.

Ode to a Mailman

Who is it that we trust with important information?
Who is it that presents us with good and bad news?
Who is it that neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet, nor hail shall keep them from their appointed rounds?
Superman? you may be thinking. But the hero I'm referring to is none other than the mailman. Yes, the 65-year-old balding man with the too short of shorts. But don't let his khaki minis deceive you. A mailman's job is no easy deed.
Think about it:
-Steering wheel on the wrong side with no doors to brace him when the realization that he is not in Britain causes him to swerve back to the right side of the road.
-Carrying money and important information with him at all times. Forget superman keeping his identity safe, The mailman has to keep millions of people's identities safe everyday! Who knows how many arch nemesis he has.
-Having to deliver all the mail to everyone in a care with no doors while fighting off the nemesis. And all before 5-o'clock!
These rumpled senile men endure more for their neighborhoods than superman could have dreamed. So next time you see that white familiar vehicle trucking down your street, give a friendly wave to let these men know your support.
For there is neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet nor hail that shall keep a mailman from his appointed rounds.
 Have no fear, the mailman is here.