A little reminder from last year... Holy War

One of the biggest college rivalries meets this Saturday at 3:00 in Provo, Utah. It's the Holy War between the University of Utah and BYU. Best. Game. Of. The. Year. Always intense. Always unpredictable. I felt only Hitler could remind us thoroughly of what happened last year... and will likely happen again this year.

All I can say is lets hope our UTAH MVP from last year shows up this year! We couldn't have won without the one and only Max Hall. Go Utes! And Go Max Hall! :) Crimson will be there to catch your passes every single time.

Desperate Times...

It snowed - so I guess that means I should continue driving as I always have

Utah boasts the greatest snow on earth; and in 2002, we proved it to the world by hosting the Winter Olympics. Every year hundreds if not thousands of snow-enthusiasts flock to Utahs resorts to enjoy the beauty of the mountains and strap pieces of wood to their body in the hopes of screaming down a steep mountain face over and over and over through deep powdery wonderlands. Snow is an integral part of the Utah experience.

However... there is a taint...

It seems that Utah's notorious "bad driving" knows no limits - not even winter storm, black ice, foggy death, wet, limits. Yesterday we had our first bonified snowfall of the season. I was perusing at Goldon Braid Books when it all happened - I looked out the window and what had started as a typically gloom covered day in November was now dotted with flakes the size of my face silently floating from the sky. "It's snowing!!" I exclaimed outloud to myself - but still looked around to see if my yelp had reached some book-wanderers ear and drawn their gaze out the window. Alas! I really did just exclaim to myself - but it was still worth the exclamation (I've realized how much more comfortable I am with talking to myself outloud in public places and not being embaressed when I realize that I've been doing it. Meh... so let them think I'm crazy.... maybe I kinda am).

Well, as those who have lived in "snow-prone" places know - snow is beautiful, but also equals wet slick roads. And to everyone with an resemblance of common sense coursing through there cerebellum that means you should modify your usual "sunny day" driving behaviors to compensate for wet, slick, snowy road. Makes sense right? RIGHT? After leaving Golden Braid Books I needed to venture to Nordstrom for some make-up renewing (huzah!), and proceeded to get on the snowy freeway to do just that. By this time it really was somewhat of a blizzard and the roads were rather slick. But did that stop "that guys" SUV? NO WAY! As you can probably imagine the rant I am building up - lets just say in my journey from downtown to the 53rd South exit I witnessed no less than 5 swerving"close calls" where people where literally shocked their car slide more on wet roads than dry ones, 4 jackasses tailing anyone who even ATTEMPTED to go the speed limit in the "fast lane" (because you realize the fast lane still means GO FAST even if there's icy death on the road), 3 moms in vans chatting away on their cell phone with bouncing brats making faces at passing cars as she wooshed by splaying slush all over everyone, and my personal favorite, the SUV drivers who bob and weave through traffic with looks on their faces like "why are all you people driving cautiously in a blizzard?? I guess you should've purchased a 4 wheel drive anti-death Escalade like me!! HAW HAW HAW!" I hate those arrogant jerks and their holier than thou attitude as they swerve through carefully crawling cars during winter storms. What makes them THINK they are so invincible because they have 4-wheel drive? How do they miss the concept that snow equals wet equals ice equals "use greater caution you idiots because you will die"? I mean - talk about environmental factors seriously modifying behavior... I'm pretty sure these morons drive even faster just to prove to us compact car owners (aka smart people) that not only is their SUV like so all-purpose - but it kicks winters arse!

Thus, though I love the snow and Utah has some of the greatest snow, it's all sort of tainted when you not only have to drive in it, which is stressful, but have to deal with SUV driving jerks who are usually the cause of 2 hour traffic delays because they didn't think that 90mph in the left lane was any different in their awesome car of superhero death defying powers on a dry, bright, sunny July day than a gloomy blizzardy snow fall in November. Go figure. I guess that lesson only truly hits home when they're upside down in a snow bank and the Hyundai Elantra they zipped passed in the rush to be super-awesome-snow-guy honks and waves as she continues on her cautious journey to Nordstrom for make-up renewal. Just sayin... snow-karma.

Halloween Pics... finally... a week later (and a pretty entertaining video WORTH waiting for)

I truly have lost control of my personal life. Yes, I am posting my Halloween pictures nearly a week later. What of it? At least I’m posting them. I really think this is representative of my life – I feel like I’m a full 7 days behind and almost in no way will be able to catch up. Rather a disheartening scenario, no? Sigh. Alas, I need to reevaluate my priorities – maybe when schools over – in 2 years.

For Halloween I was a Roller Derby Girl. Yes, I was inspired by the movie Whip-it as well as the appeal of wearing a fluffy pink petticoat in public. What’s more, I borrowed “tattoo sleeves” from my friend Terilyn, and felt pretty bad-ass in them. They look incredibly authentic and I almost felt a certain empowerment sporting them on my arms. I think that’s why Halloween is one of my favorite holidays – I have the opportunity to be someone completely different for a night; to play a character in a play that's different from the one you've been assigned (or self-selected); but lets leave the philosophizing for another time... in 2 years maybe.

Terilyn and I at Thriller on Friday night. What what! Some pretty powerful ladies!

Saturday night I went to the Utah vs. Wyoming game (and nearly had a heart attack the whole time - that team is going to be the DEATH of me - why must we wait until the last half of the 4th quarter to show up and play some real football? I ASK YOU!); and of course, the Muss had to make a showing by dressing up "black hole" style. My friend Eyring and I looked pretty hard core... and by hard core I might mention how much the vampy teeth add to my overall bad-assidness already assumed by my wicked arm-tats. The final chapter (and by far the most entertaining) of my Halloween-ing this year happened in the workplace. We had a week long United Way campaign at my place of employment the week of Halloween and part of the campaign entailed a "donation race" to see which executive could illicit the most funds in his "jar" thus making him eligible to prance around the office in a blow up ballerina costume.

And my supervisor won...

And he LOVED it.

Perhaps I'm not the only one that's slightly lost control of my personal life.

Last night, I dreamt of London again.

Yes, I am trying to capture the dark ethereal magic of Daphne du Maurier's opening lines from her novel Rebecca, which begins "I dreamt of Manderley again" (chiiiiiills). I'm not sure how well I captured that - but I thought it fitting as I did, in fact, dream of London again.

I dream of London a lot. Is that strange? Shrug. I guess most dreams tend to be strange and mine are generally extremely abstract, so I guess asking someone to label a dream subject as strange is asking someone to label pretzels as salty. It's what they are - naturally. But I do dream of London and this morning, I fought very decisively not to leave Oxford street and continue my search for a reasonably priced flat (yes... I realize the irony... "reasonably priced flat in London"... dream on sista... dream on) when the fuzzy lines between dreaming and waking are interspersed with sounds from the "real world" translating over to the "dream world." No! Please let me stay here.

I'm not in London anymore - fantastically or in reality (duh). I have been though so it's not completely ridiculous that I dream of the city. I spent a mere 6 weeks in London on a study abroad with the University of Utah after which I subsequently wrote a prose heavy "research analysis" of it's "foggy lanterns piercing the rippled surface of the darkening Thames as I scurried to my hotel near the Baker's street tube stop. Dark figures glided like ghosts along pavements while a stray black cat confidently strutted across my path; the misty air glistening off its mangey fur" - oh my. Clearly someone (it's me) has transported us all back to Sir Arther Conan Doyle's Holmesian London or has been taking Virginia Wolfe far too seriously (and you know what happens when you take Virginia Wolfe a little too seriously... the misty clouds thus roll forth and you put rocks in your pockets).

Never the less - whatever Freud might say of my reoccurring London dreams having something to do with my subconscious longing to escape into a world so very different from my own (true) or my strange inherent desire to project my inner Mary Poppins (also true); I loved London and I want to go (back) to London and I believe that once I get to London again, I will be staying in London indefinitely. Perhaps London is sending these subliminal messages through my dreams, beckoning me to join it again and experience all that London is. And who am I to say no to London? Especially when it goes through the trouble of consistently invading my dreams. Dickens would never say no to London! And that's reason enough for me.

It's akin to asking someone if they're preganant, and they're not

I attended some friend's Halloween party this week. It was Tuesday night, after class, so granted I was pretty beat after a full day of work and sitting in a 3 hour class all night. However, I wanted to support my friends gathering as it was a Halloween/house-warming party mix. Party Mix! Like Chex. Ahem... anyway... there promised to be meatballs as well and if anything gets me going after a long day of mind-numbing metiocrity, it's meatballs. You can quote me on that.

So I picked up my friend M to head up to the party, and she romped to my car and jumped in. I immediately said "Oh man! You dressed up! What are you?" To which she replied "Uh... I'm not dressed up. I wore this to work."

Ahem.

Ah. Ohhhh, well it's dark outside and I'm kinda losing it because of my super long day and Ididn'treallyseewhatyouwerewearing.... Oops! Mistaking someone's outfit for a Halloween costume is your classic "foot-in-the-mouth" scenario; or the setting for a lame joke "Take off that mask!" "Oh I'm not wearing a mask." Ba dum chi!

Luckily my friend is good natured with a easy going sense of humor and wasn't offended in the slightest. Phew... lucky for me. Note to self - think before talking (or) scrutinze beyond a shadow of a doubt someone's outfit before asking what they're dressed up as (or) don't talk at all. All excellent preventative measures one can take to insure no awkward situations that are impossible to smoothly dig oneself out of. It's very much like asking "Oh! So when are you due?" "Um... I'm not pregnant" ... ... cricket chirp. What do you SAY to that? "Oh sorry - I didn't realize you were just fat?" Mm. Hm. You see what I mean.

You know you've lost control of your personal life when your Soy milks gone bad

If any of you are Soy milk drinkers, or were Soy milk drinkers, or are considering becoming a Soy milk drinker, or even, have friends who are Soy milk drinkers, you may know that Soy milk has a very liberal expiration date. When compared with regular milk derived from a cows udder (shudder); it's clear who the winner of "how long you can keep this in your fridge before it goes bad" contest is. Soy milk. Every. Time.

(On a note - do you know we are the only species that continues to drink milk AFTER nursing? Additionally - we're the only species that elects to drink the milk of another mammal who drags their udders through poop, dirt, grass, poop, and is suckled on by snotty little baby cows. There's some food for thought).

At any rate...

It takes a long time for Soy milk to "go bad." Many will contend that the expiration date is only applicable on an unopened carton of Soy milk. Well, that's semi-true. The carton does explain it that way - but really - I've pushed the limits of Soy milk and not noticed much of a "funk" 1,2, and sometimes 3 weeks after having opened it.

This time however...

My Soy milk contained a bit of a "funk." I kept right on eating my cereal of course; the entire time exclaiming inside my head "this tastes funny! This is probably bad!" chomp chomp on my Cheerios, "Yep, definitely something funky about this... this is no good." chomp chomp chomp. And I realized, if my Soy milk had gone noticeably bad, it's clear I have not been drinking much of it as of late. Which means, I've been eating out more than I usually do, or not eating at all really, and this means I'm either lacking time, or I've lost complete control of my personal life and my self-respect is at an all time failing low. Come to find - it's probably a little of both.

When our lives begin to fast forward, bogged down with this, that, and the other, we tend to let ourselves "slip" a little in the general care and fostering of our own health. Sleepless nights that linger all week, not having the energy to make home-cooked (or even slabbing PB&J together between two pieces of bread) meals, sniffing our clothes because we can't remember when we did laundry last and sure as all Mountain Fresh don't have the time now... things of this nature. I hadn't realized I'd let a few small things (cleaning my room... going for a run... grocery shopping...) slip, and if it weren't for the Soy milk funk, I may still have kept slipping into slovenly, greasy, obese, oblivion. You think I exaggerate? I think NOT! We tend to focus our time and our energies on so many outside factors, we forget about spending sometime on ourselves. I for one feel better when I'm healthily fed, relatively clean, and surrounded by a little more order and a little less chaos. In fact, the simple act of making my bed every morning can foster feelings of self-accomplishment; that I actually have a handle on your surroundings (I live in a very simple world).

Well, I for one will never be letting my Soy milk go bad again. Thank goodness for that wake-up call! While I carve out time for school, work, school, and also school, I think I'll make a point to carve out a little "self-care" in there too; some valuable grocery shopping, a bathroom scrubbing, an hour in the gym, and maybe even begin a novel. Ha. Okay... I won't get TOO carried away.