I have 10 minutes

More than twice this year I've seen people carelessly walking around campus with a giant wad of toilet paper in one of their nostrils. Runny nose? I think that would be a horrific experience to be caught with anything protruding from my face besides my nose itself--attached my most important limb in all it's glory. I will admit, that right now I feel very much tempted to conform to their grossness because there is an unhealthy amount of liquid seeping from my nasal cavity. I hate being sick.

I've had two "epiphanies" this week:

"Does you Mother know you're dressed like that?"

You can interpret that one as you will--I thought that when I saw someone walking in a t-shirt and shorts when it's ridiculously cold outside--winter--snowy mountains...but immodesty on campus bugs me too.

and

"How is it possible that people get paid to play computer games?"

 I was walking to drop off a paper and saw tutors just playing games on their computers in the JKB. If I knew more about video games I'd know the name but they were probably making an army to go kill someone. I'm sure there could be something more productive to do. Am I judging? Yes. Are you judging me? Probably.

I could lie but it's not that kind of blog.

A Dream About Quarters

Waking up in the morning like I had been out and about is not exactly what I was going for when closed my eyes last night. It feels like a dream--wait it was a dream. Sometimes I feel guilty when i wake up after having strange memories of something that I wondered was real or not... like I should be able to know where I had been for the last few hours of my life but could not tell reality from surrealism. My body was in my room but last night my mind had been outside during mid-day walking on the sidewalk on 9th. east going south. As I was walking along I saw a quater.

( I know, it's not a quater. Google pics only can answer so many pleas)

No one should get overly excited, but I did.  With delight in my step I picked up a quater. My eye caught hold of another--really? Another one? Not complaining. I picked it up. Low and behold, as I kept continuing forward I kept finding more of them. They were multiplying and i started to be grateful for math. What I would find were quarters evenly dispersed-- waiting for me. As I came across them it was automatic to pick them and while doing so wondered who was watching and who had "dropped" them here.


As I kid whenever I would find a penny I would scream, sort of obnoxiously, "MINE!" and run to grab it. It was so bad even my family was aware that I was overly obsessed with finding coins on the ground. My brothers, as loving as they are (note the sarcasms?), planted a penny on the carpet in our living room. I was probably doing math problems my Mom gave me as homework (during summer vacation mind you) when my brother Phillip said, "Oh, look, there's a penny right here. I wonder who's it is?"--yep, he said that nonchalantly to himself...I should have known. I screamed, just like the naive and inoccent 8 year old that I was the four letter word: "MINE!". He laughed a while and then said, "Diana, we put that there." The fact that he said we meant that it was a conspiracy three brothers versus one sister. I probably got smug and stuck in it my pocket. I made my own rules as a kid...i chose not to believe but made the mental note: Don't listen to your brothers. Annnnd I stopped getting overly excited about a finding.


Was my subconscious getting to me? Is it from my Human Development class where I'm learning about Fraud and how the subconscious can withhold certain "truths"? If that is the case, then my eduction is paying off--I didn't realize I was learning anything yet and it's been 3 weeks. Woody Allen is right. 80 percent of success really is showing up.


i bent down and collected 2 quarters, then 3, and this process continued on as I with disbelief started to question the wealth I was receiving from the shower of quarters under my feet. Near the end of my quest I was led to a pile of quarters and a thrown and lonely leather wallet who laid upside down yet opened revealing no bills, and by the looks of it had lost it's owner. I picked it up. Distraught that all these silver circles of importance had an owner and was resolved to returning them, I reflected back to my disbelief that I knew that my find had been too good to be true.


When I saw the picture on the I.D. I wondered how this could be. I knew the owner. It was my Pearl of Great Price religion teacher from Winter 2009. DREAM. But, in reality, He always reminded me of a cartoon character, with his white hair and round body--he'd throw his hands in the air when he was tickled--intellectually. 


I think at the end I found him, and he started lecturing me. I woke up how my dream ended...slightly disappointed.

Slipped

Like a foot to the ice
and the fall to the ground
what was once in my mind
escaped

Poem writing isn't my forte. I had a profound thought a few minutes ago and then it slipped me and my mind. It has been one of my longest days and that is the first of many, and I am questioning the next four months of my life....good thing Elder D. Todd Christofferson came to BYU campus and spoke to all the world and single adults last night. What would I ever do without an apostle of Jesus Christ in my life? Not to mention the prophet. He gave wonderful counsel and of that counsel what sticks out in my mind is when he said, and I am paraphrasing...when you want to give up, just hang on. I don't plan on giving up...but just from being physically tired, it can turn the picture grey.

PUzzLe

Today I started working on a puzzle. For the longest time I've been itching to do one to feel like I do have brain cells and solving problem skills, @ least of how to match shapes. I have most of the border in place and already want to give up. Patience is not one of my strong points, but, it is nice attempting to put a puzzle together after 10 years of forgetting that they even existed.

Pitbull. I hang out with my pitbull that lives in my parent's basement while I am here visiting. When I go up the stairs our other dog is there--it's like every floor should have a different dog. The 3rd floor doesn't have one...and no, I am not the animal on the 3rd floor. Thanks for trying, though. My human interaction is with my Mom. I am definitely okay with this, being able to get away from everything. Seriously, though, with dial-up and horrid cell phone reception, I am not only in a different part of the world but in a different time wharp. I went back 10 years. DOes this mean I am 15?

I have a few more days of vaction time and then back into the world of having to sustain myself and get an education. Gawsh. Make it stop.

:)

Pit-stop in Vegas

(this comes from my notebook. i wrote as i traveled. I met a lot of interesting ppl and i was asked several times if i was a writer to which my response was "no, i just do it for fun"...their response? You should be. Something to consinder, isn't it?)


The middle seat. Pilots wings. A heart. Chatter. Intellectual chatter...about brain structures. Nathan from my ward. Artificial nails. Fan adjustments. Limp bodies. Delays. Uncomfortable.
This is the sum of my enviroment. This one word will give everything away--Southwest.


The people behind me must really love school. The semester just ended but they are party poopers and insist on dragging it out. I am secretly jelous of the flow of the conversation. I wonder how dep the creases in their brains must be. I am positive I am older than them. Taking off.


I started chewing my gum a good 5 minutes ago when they announced we would be taking off to be prepared for this--but it's just the irony of my life--I have to keep waiting.


(off the plane waiting for my second flight)


Waiting. C14


I knew it. I should have gone to the bathroom before sitting in the perfect seat. This is the down-side of traveling alone...I can't just leave my sutff here. Nothing against Vegas but I'm not about to test it's honesty.


------i drew a picture in my notebook...will post in future-----


That older man to my right is the smartest person in the airport. As I walked what felt like an eternal annoyance of dodging inconsiderate travelers with their inablility to manage their luggage and small children I finally found my way to this perfect seat @ my gate close to the window. Just glancing to my left and i have not only a view of the adjacent red, orange, and blue southwest planes but a view of the dusty Vegas mountains contrasting the washed up royal blue clouds that are drapped by a blanket of salt and pepper clouds. Soon I will loose thsi spot to hit the bathroom that I missed on the way.


So, are you still wondering why this man is so smart? As we all know--and too well--the airport is full of things to buy--and I'm a sucker myself, whether it be a drink, meals, accessories, even massages--the airport has suddenly become a similarity to what is known as...Wal*mart. I took a break from writing and saw this simple man with his denim blue jeans and spalding shoes accompanied by a striped cream shirt and his trsuty wool suit coat, and let's not forget his Salt Lake 2002 olympic black cap. All this was very much his personality. Fit yet with his share of decades this man held in his hands a sandwich that still had teh plastic around the back part of it to protect his fingers from contaminating his home-made meal. Chewing ensued. (Who knows what is spread in an airport-or maybe he holds it that way out of habit). So-Senor Spalding had this mysterious sandwich in his hands, content, chewing, and totally denied the airport's enticements to buy, waste, and gamble. I wish i had more prucence like this good sir to my right.


Being smart doesn't look fancy--maybe it shows in the style--but I bet this man knows how to pinch a penny and has peaceful sleep knowing he was careful. The things you learn in the Las Vegas Airport.

Nine Days

Nine Days and I'll be on a plane on my way to Washington D.C.

A year goes by very quickly yet so slow at the same time. A year ago today I was still recovering from my apendix almost imploding inside my body and from having it surgically removed. That...feels like it happened more than a year ago. So much has changed, not just my lack of part of my digestive system.

I have a complete different set of friends, the job I always wanted, and a calling that I never guessed that I would have, yet I continue changing my mind all too often--just as I always do.

(this kind of cotton)

I gave up my dream major because, it just did not feel right. It was my "rough break up" of the semester. It was quite the ugly scene studio art and I had when we parted our ways. I was in my room a lot, contemplating life w/out it...if I could see myself in a commited relationship w/ it...realzing that we needed to part paths and ways took it's tole. That was not a pretty week. I'm totally serious.Parting w/ art is like giving up cotton. You can leave w/out it but it's a great fabric and shall be missed. Every now and then I wear a cotton shirt, or...pick up a paint brush. I feel at peace about my decision but looking back I would not have expected that change in myself.

I find that people say, "Oh, I'll never _______"--you fill in the blank. That has become quite the dangerous sentence. With time, that never becomes more than just a possiblity, (of course, withing the guidelines of the church. I am not talking about drinking or breaking a commandment, just our expectation of ourself or an idea.) Here's an example..."Oh, I'll never be a spanish major." BOOM. See, see! It became a reality.

I am a very concious person, I guess you can throw self concious in for fun but not really. More of the concious of what needs to be done, what needs to change. I have some deep thinking to do during this Christmas holiday of what I need to do to more fully enjoy what the Lord is giving me right now. He can shock me later w/ the nevers becoming realities.

Esticker

I just like emphasizing spanish words. Today I did it twice with "esticker" and "bulla". Ode to bulla. Bulla means noise. Esticker is the easy one...it just means sticker. I believe it is spelled the same way in spanish only the pronounce it with the e-sticker. I loved Peru for showing me that english is very much used in latin america, just with their pronunciation--and they have all the right.

With my missionaries today as we finished two sisters stayed after. They always stay after now to do a door contact with me. So, they did that and sometimes I really think I'm a horrid teacher. I want to laugh at inappropriate times...all the time. It's just......well, let's do an example. Today @ the end of class my missionaries insisted on playing a language game to practice the grammar principle they learned today. To sound like i know spanish i will tell you what it is called: present progressive/past progressive. Basically, that is saying something like "I am going, I was going, we were going, etc.". So, my missionaries wanted to do a review about it involving a game. I am rolling my eyes @ myself right now. So, I asked them to clean up their tables and get a piece of paper out. I look over @ one of my Elder's desk and chuckled to myself. Then I say things that I probably should retain to myself, but it was so tempting. This is how it went down:

Yo (me): "Elder sabe q significa la palabra pais?"

el (him): "Umm....no"

yo: "Los estado unidos es un pais, Peru es un pais, Colombia es un pais, Ecuador es un pais, Australia es un pais....q significa pais?"

el: "ummm..."

the rest of the class got it for him. Okay, actually he guessed something completely out there and i had to hold back my laugh which my Hermanas totally called me out on! I wish i had a better memory to tell this story. Sadly, it all leaves me not long after...

Then I continued

yo: "Okay Elder, su mesa me recuerda de italia, el pais"

el: "I look like italy?"

yo: laughing. "No, su MESA me recuerda de italia. ?Q significa mesa, elder?

el: "I have no idea. You want me to put everything away?"

yo: "No Elder. *then I started to do movements with my hands and started to immitate me. It was the funniest thing i could have ever seen." I continued to say and make awkward hand movements to try to explain like sign language: "Cuando miro a su mesa y le veo a usted pienso en italia, el pais."

After a while of the class holding back and letting him figure it out he said,

"Oh, when you look at my desk you think of italy."

yo: Si, veo a las cosas encima y pienso en el torre...el torre de piza.

His desk was full of books but it was sort of like this: scriptures, preach my gospel, hymn book, another PMG in spanish, notebeook....that's not exactlythe most orderly stack of books...i love it. I love the weird things people do. I find them funny while no one else does.
He started to laugh and apologized. I didn't want an apology, i just find humor in random things that probably don't need to be said. I dig it.

I had to go back to work and have cleaning checks so tbc....(to be continued)