Why Buy Something You Can't Clean Easily?

Part of the problem with this new front-loading washer, apparently, is that you can't clean underneath it! I guess it has to stay balanced and level in order for it to work perfectly. This absolutely kills my mom, since you can't shimmy it out and clean around and behind and underneath it. In fact, her sister, Peg, got one of these first, and my mom called Peg when she figured this out:

Mom: "PEG! You can't clean under these things?!"
Peg: "I know! Isn't it the WORST?"
Mom: "And you still bought it? And let me buy one?"
Peg (totally serious): "I know. It's awful."

Welcome to the Ghetto.

On Saturday I bathed Kobe (my dog). That used to mean washing and drying all his blankets and mattress covers (!), etc., as well. Now, however, it means anything Kobe touches cannot be washed in our washer and dryer (heaven forbid!) now that Mom has a front-loading washer. So, off to the laundromat I went.

Now, let me paint a picture. Laguna Hills is really a pretty nice area. But about a mile away from our house, down the hill (and Laguna Hills is all about which hill you're on), to the lowest part of the city, is the nearest laundromat. It's in The Ghetto. I was the only white person in there. All the signs on the bulletin board said "Se Rente!" or something like that. 'Twas quite the experience.

Good one, Holly.

As I was packing up my stuff to head to the airport tonight, Holly asked, "Do you want to shut your blinds?"

Good one, Holly. Good one. =)

Scrawny? Not If I Can Help It!

Last night, my roommates and I were talking about our celebrity crushes. I, of course, had to bring up Michael Vartan, to which Karli responded that he's scrawny. This is a misconception I am more than happy to clear up. I'll do so with a picture:

Life just got SO much better

And surprisingly, the main reason it just go so much better is not because classes are over, though that may contribute a bit. No, the reason life got so much better is that I found The Jo Booklet. It's the unofficial name for this packet of stories that a couple of my cousins wrote about their mom, Jo. She is perhaps one of the most entertaining and interesting people I know, and I thought I'd lost my packet! Yes, this thing might be over ten years old, and yes, it may only have old stories, but man, these things are classics. And I was THERE for some of them. I may have to post paragraphs here. This is almost as good as Rebecca's blog, imo.

Patriotic in December!

I have no idea why, but I have "My Country 'Tis of Thee" stuck in my head right now.

Dear Miss Kerry,

You were cute enough to dedicate a blog post to me, so I'm going to try and return the cuteness favor.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY EVE EVE!

Thanks for all the hilarious memories of having Sunday dinners, getting me into premium jeans, beaching it this summer, repeating crazy Hillary stories, and all the good times we had back in the Lis de Fleur, even though we hated living there. I always know that, when I want either a good laugh or a great, in-depth discussion, you're my go-to girl.

Love you.

Miss Laura

One of the worst things that can happen . . .

. . . when you get to a place, you realize you're going to be there for a few hours (say, the testing center, or the library . . . recent examples that come to mind), and then you realize you forgot your chapstick.

Kind of like Holly's now-classic quote: "I can't take a test if my lips are chapped. The conditions have to be perfect."

Really, though?

My post--and the comments--on my post about the gentleman wearing denim shorts really has spurred another thought in my head: why do guys wear denim shorts at all? Really, though? Not a good look. I passed a guy today in the Tanner wearing a look not dissimilar from UnfashionableOldGuy at the gym a couple weeks ago: denim shorts, mid-calf white socks, sneakers, and some big t-shirt. It was just so many kinds of wrong. Really, though?

You know something's wrong in the universe when . . .

. . . You're on your way to church and you're stuck at a stoplight. Suddenly, you see a certain Miss Rebbs Pletsch zooming through the intersection in her super-cool Xterra.

You know something's wrong in the universe when Rebbs is going to beat you to church.

Strange Disease

Tonight after Rebecca's party, I was looking in the mirror and saw a strange blue dot on my face. I was thinking, Could it be? Am I becoming as cool as Rebecca? Do I have a tropical disease like she (thought she) had earlier this week?

Alas, it was merely a piece of my cell phone that had come off and stuck to my face after I hung up the phone. Sad.

Old Men at the Gym

Over Thanksgiving, my mom and I went to the gym a couple times. Now, the closest one to us (maybe 1.5-2 miles away, still in LH), is kinda ghetto, and by kinda ghetto, I mean really ghetto. The nice ones are 3-4 miles away, in Aliso Viejo. So basically, you have very few hip, cool, young people. What you have mostly are very old men.

One of the old men was maybe in his mid-to-late 60s, he was a very slender gentleman, and he was wearing short shorts (!), a tank top, and knee-high socks. It was quite an image.

Another gentleman was very interesting, too. He was 50-ish, on the chunkier side, but his outfit might've been even better: denim shorts (!), a dark polo shirt, black mid-calf socks, and white walking shoes. It really was magical.

Who knew you could be so entertained at the gym?

Seriously?! Seriously??!!

Tonight I had a Women in Management dinner on campus that turned out to be absolutely awesome. I was lucky enough to sit at the table with the director of the Marriott School, as well as the two speakers for tonight. The director was more than happy to brag me up to the speakers because of our Ohio State competition win, which might come in handy if I end up interviewing with them (and I SO want to!).

But the main thing I came away with? I'm a pig. And I'm totally okay with that. Dinner was served buffet-style, and I noticed when I came back from the line that my plate was the only one that was totally stacked. It's not just because it was a free dinner, either; I piled my plate high because I was STARVING and because the food looked dang good. But I came across this same problem in Ohio, even with my boys: my plate would be stacked, and theirs were only moderately full.

I'm okay with being a pig, but then it really cuts into the talking time. I dunno . . . anyone else think this is a problem?

WE WON!

More later.

Off to Ohio

Tomorrow morning--WAY too early--we get picked up to fly to Ohio. I have to admit that I'm kind of scared for the trip. Not for the TRIP, but for the competition: I'm just hoping I don't lose it for the team! The guys are so smart and so great, and this has all been such an incredible learning experience, that I just don't want to mess it up. But hopefully, all our practice will pay off and we'll do well.

I'm also going to be up four times at 7 am this week--three of those times are 7 am EASTERN TIME--so please send all the prayers and good thoughts my way that you can, all three of you.

Popular

Today I was thinking about one of my favorite people: Rebecca. The topic? Popularity. I was chuckling to myself as I realized that Rebecca, our favorite blogger ever, is quite possibly the most popular girl in the ward. Yes, Rebecca is the most popular. We all want to be wherever Rebecca's going to be, because you KNOW it's going to be more entertaining and hilarious whenever you're around her. And as much as she tries to tell you she doesn't like people and she doesn't like to socialize, I don't buy it for a second! You can't be Most Popular if you don't like people, right?

I'm almost thinking we should start having yearbook-like awards for ward members. That could be hilarious. Suggestions for titles/winners?

"It's All About The Banana Now"

Ah, that's a good Will & Grace episode. Jack working at Banana Republic gives so much material.

I ordered a suit from The Banana this week for my Ohio State competition. Holy pricey! But it better look hot. The jacket looked good on me in the store--even Rebecca admitted it--but they didn't have skirts in my size, so I ordered it all online. I ordered it on Monday; they said it would be delivered within 4-7 business days of placing the order. It didn't get shipped out until yesterday, so I'm really curious as to how it's going to get to my home in Laguna Hills in time. I even called the customer service just to pick someone's brain about it: apparently they'll do whatever it takes to get the package to you when they say they will. So now I'm having fun watching this little race against time. I check UPS.com multiple times to see the status. I'm a nerd, I know. It's kind of like watching a horse race or NASCAR or something, but it involves clothing from The Banana, so it's infinitely better, and targeted towards the female demographic, right? Right.

Blind Dates Part III

I went on another blind date tonight. Two in a seven-day span. It was a lot of fun! We went to a haunted house up in Salt Lake and I enjoyed watching my date shriek like a little girl. I, of course, was tough; I was cool, calm, and collected. Yeah, right.

And apparently I'm going on another blind date when I get back into town (I'm heading home to CA this week for Lindsey's wedding, then I head to Ohio State the next week for our competition). I'm rackin' up my blind dates early this school year, it seems. When it rains, it pours, right?

I'm An Aunt!

I posted this on Facebook, but I don't think I posted it here: I'm an aunt! John Harrison Ritz was born September 27, 2007 at 5:34 am, weighing in at 7 lbs 8 oz and at 21.5" long. And I think he's helping my sister develop some Blue--who knew? She can no longer say, "You could have hurt my feeling," since she finally has multiple feelings!

Movie Theater Etiquette

I went with some girlfriends on Saturday night to see "Becoming Jane." I realize that when you're paying $1.50 for a movie, you might worry about your behavior affecting others' enjoyment of the movie less than if you're, say, paying $10.00 for a movie. But Saturday night was a little over the top for me. One woman brought her young daughter (was she maybe 3 or 4?) who was pretty much talking through the whole movie, or making popping sounds with her mouth. Then there were the two girls across the aisle from me who kept checking their phones EVERY FIVE MINUTES to see if someone had texted them. Cell phone screens are pretty bright these days, folks. And texting isn't a silent activity, either. I CAN HEAR EVERY BUTTON YOU PRESS.

I'm starting to agree with my sister more and more: People are idiots.

And maybe she's on to something just watching movies at home . . .

Or maybe I'm just cranky.

Blind Dates Pt II

I learned how to shoot a gun on my blind date on Friday. That's potentially a great idea for a date to teach his blind date, or a really bad idea. I guess it depends on how the date goes.

Seriously, though, it's really cool knowing how to shoot a gun! I feel almost 1% as awesome as Sydney Bristow right now, if that's even possible. But I learned how to load and shoot a 9mm and a 45mm gun. Go me!

My date was incredible nice and very gentlemanly, so it's refreshing to know there are still great guys out there. Hopefully one of them, these days, I'll be interested in, and it'll be mutual.

Or, as my friend Wes's dad always says, "Marriage and dating. It's all a conspiracy."

Christmas

On Saturday night, Rebecca and I went to the mall for a bit to help me out with shopping. Let's be honest: I need all the help I can get. And since I need to buy a suit for this Business Case competition, I enlisted Rebbs' help. The highlight of the trip--for me, anyway--was when we were walking through Macy's. I spotted it: something so stunning and beautiful. A CHRISTMAS TREE! I was so excited that I gasped and grabbed Rebecca's arm (sorry to invade your personal space and touch, Rebbs!), and said, "A CHRISTMAS TREE!" She, of course, giggled her depressed, sad giggle, then said, "I hate Christmas."

I *heart* Christmas.

Blind Dates

With blind dates, do you dread them, or do you look forward to them? For me it depends on who is setting me up, I guess. One friend has always picked guys who definitely fit my type, and she's setting me up with another one tonight; I'm surprisingly excited. My friend is keeping me fed and getting me out of the apartment and away from studying.

God bless her.

I Smell Like Pizza

This can either be a good thing or a bad thing. I got a massage today and she used some essential oils, including oregano and thyme. So yeah, I'm not smelling pizza; I'm smelling LIKE pizza. Fancy!

Eww!

Being that it looks like I'll be putting in at least another 12 hours for school today, I decided to grab a bite at the Marketplace Cafe in the Tanner Building. Normally, this strategy works out very well for me: they have a grilled panini with ham, cheese, and BACON, on wheat bread. It's pretty great for under $5. The problem is that, today, they were out of wheat bread. Do you know how long it's been since I've had a sandwich on white bread? Normally, I'd rather slit my wrists, but today, I'm pretty desperate because of my schedule. It was, as my sister says, Grody to the max. (yes, she was a teen in the 80's)

Remind me never to eat white bread on a sandwich again, okay? I grew up on homemade wheat bread, and Great Harvest's nine-grain whenever we bought bread: I grew up on the good stuff.

This is like . . . tangent alert! Remember that FRIENDS episode where the guys have switched apartments, and the girls want it back, and Chandler says to Joey, "We can't go back there; didn't you ever read 'Flowers for Algernon'?" "Didn't you ever read Sports Illustrated? NO--I didn't read yours!"

This white bread incident is my "Flowers for Algernon." Once you go wheat, you can never go back.

Ouch!

I may soon have my first black eye. My cheek and eye area collided pretty hard with some guy's forehead area during a game of Night Ultimate Frisbee, and it was a pretty intense pain all of last night. So ice has been my MO today. This may turn into my first black eye. Weee?

Huh.

Today our team met for a couple hours to start up our next case. My head gets kind of full after hearing all these terms like return on capital, or funds flow, or that return on capital is really just net operating income over total assets minus current liabilities, except that we don't have any of those specific numbers, so we're going to have to back into them. Blah blah blah.

So after meeting with the group, Kelly and I met Karli and Amanda at the rugby game. I was hoping (expecting?) to fall in love with another sport, like I have with soccer. No such luck. I was bored, and the boys' shorts were way too tight.

Luckily, I know the night can only get better. Rebbs is on a date, her thrice-yearly date, and that is sure to prove comic gold. J is on a date, and that'll be fun and interesting to hear about later. And I'm going to play some night ultimate frisbee. But really, let's be honest: the highlight will be Rebecca's post tomorrow on the date. That's what we're all sitting on the edge of our seats for. It's true.

My Poor Friends

Last week my friend had me over for dinner, knowing I wasn't feeling well and wouldn't really be up to cooking a big, nice meal. She made lasagna from scratch that was AMAZING. Seriously, I think I ate half of what she made. It was honestly pretty rude of me to keep eating and eating and eating so they'd have fewer and fewer leftovers, but it was too good--I couldn't help it!

Last night I was over at said friend's apartment because it was her birthday. She is one of the cutest girls ever, and I've known her since she was maybe 3 (I'm a wee bit--okay, okay, a lot--older than she). Anyway, as I was leaving, she said, "Hey, I want to make lasagna again!" My eyes got all big and happy as I got excited, and then she said, "And this time I'll make two!"

I'm such a pig. I swear, I should pay my friends every time they feed me because I eat so much. It's never economical or in their best interest to feed me! I'm going to stop getting invites if I don't contribute either financially or with my famous Thai Cucumber Salads or something. I'm lame; I know.

Clique Audition

Last night, Jeannette, Karli and I went to the RB and shot some hoops. We played a pretty intense game of C-O-U-G-A-R-S (our Ra-Ra! version of Horse), and Jeanette is going to earn some kick-booty nickname with her knack for hitting half-court shots and backwards free throws. But we saw this group of guys and gals come onto the other court and play a game. J realized that she wanted to be part of a group.

L: "You want a clique? Should we start auditioning for a clique?"

So we're auditioning for a clique. We like sports and would like our clique auditionees to like them, too; if they don't, we'll still strongly consider the application.

Blogging

I laughed yesterday, realizing that I never get to my blog in any traditional way: I don't have a shortcut to my blog for handy post-writing. No, I get to my blog through Rebecca's blog. I'm there at least once a day, and it's just so easy! If only clicking on a link from Rebecca's blog would help her get money to pay back Kirk.

Jokes

I hate jokes. Pretty much HATE them. Unless your name is Rebecca or Liz, in which case anything you say is funny, and that even includes jokes. Yes, you two are special. Just keep talking. All the time.

So Here's The Deal . . .

Unfortunately, my "difficult decision" had nothing to do with dating; rather, my dilemma squared solely on school. There's this CIBER International Business Case Competition at Ohio State University every year, with teams from different universities around the world that participate. BYU won the last two years, and finished third the previous year. In order to interview to be considered for the team, you have to be recommended by a professor. So I was asked to interview, and a few days after I did, they told me I was on the team if I wanted it. I figured two things had happened: 1) they needed a female on the team and I was the only female to interview, and/or 2) they made a massive, massive mistake.

Seriously, though, I'm really excited for this. It's an intensive competition and adding a whole chunk of work to my schedule I was starting to love because it *wasn't* a killer. But the week of the competition . . . we fly there on a Tuesday and get settled in. Wednesday morning, we might go to the Honda manufacturing plant and see cars being built. Then, a hockey game that evening (this is based on what happened last year, and what they anticipate for this year). Thursday morning at 7 am, we report to the competition and get our case. We work on it for what may be 24 hours straight, get out presentation time the next morning at 7 am--when we turn in our flash drive with our PowerPoint--and then we present once or twice, depending on whether or not we win in our group. Then we fly back on Saturday. Sounds awesome, huh? I met my other team members today and they are three really great guys--I'm looking forward to working with them and getting to know them. Good times.

Thanks, Rebbs.

Yesterday, Rebecca and I were talking. I've been feeling a little under the weather this week, and somehow we got onto the topic of how girls who have boyfriends get sick a lot. You know. I haven't been sick in so long, and then I realized that I didn't get sick when Mario and I dated--for over a year. Rebbs, in her classic style and tone, said, "Way to not date a carrier."

Little Sister!

Last night I cooked dinner and watched a chick flick with some dear girlfriends from back home. We grew up in the same ward together, we've known each other since we were little (and had perms, Miss Lindsey!), and they're just awesome. One of the darling gals there, Ashley, was a sweet, precious little Beehive when I was a Laurel. Remember how cute they are when they first come into Young Women's? I adore that girl. So anyway, we're watching "Step Up" and there's a scene where the very delicious hunk in the movie is lying, stomach-down, on his bed. He's got a good body. So Ashley, my little sister (sorta but not really), says, "Nice. Tight. Buttocks!" I was rolling. Sweet, soon-to-be 19-year-old Ashley, admiring the gentleman's extremely well-toned tushy. It was awesome. Go Ash.

Decisions

Normally I like making decisions. I think they're kind of fun! But I guess that's because usually my decisions are along the lines of "Tucano's today? Or Smokehouse?" or "Should I go to the gym at 2 pm or 10 pm?" Nothing earth-shattering. Nothing that will affect anything or anyone (or ME!).

But today I got an offer that is pretty dang awesome. And I'm freaking out, because I don't know what the right decision is! It's not as easy as picking Tucano's! (always pick Tucano's) Luckily, I think the cons are manageable on either side of the decision (I hope that isn't just wishful thinking, since my health is involved); the pros, however, could be very different.

Boo. I don't like this!

New Facebook Quotes

I love my new roommates--I really do! Especially when Karli says things like, "My feet are clausterphobic!" I mean, think about it, that's just magic right there. You can't make this stuff up, but you CAN experience it. And the Karli Experience is a really good one.

Liz Madden?

I've decided the only way I'll watch football (or *enjoy* watching football, I should say), is when Liz can commentate. I normally don't enjoy watching football, but today it was a blast since the game was on Mute (yay, Mary!), so Liz was our very own John Madden. She was fan-freaking-tastic. Very stream-of-conscious.

"Oh, look at that fat guy. Well his shirt's just really tight. . . Football really isn't all that amazing. It's just fat guys running up and down a field, which I guess is a feat in and of itself . . ."

See what I mean? Magic.

Money Now or Money Later?

I have a check from Rebecca in front of me right now. So this is my dilemma: Do I cash it now, and cover her third of the wedding gift for Sue, or do I hold on to the check, and cash in in a decade from now when she's a world-renowned artist? These are important financial decisions to think about.

Woo-HOO!

Jazz won Game 7 tonight--and it was INTENSE! I wonder if Sloan's ever going to figure out that Fisher = subtraction by addition. When he's in the game, the other team goes on a run and the Jazz SUCK; when he's out of the game, the Jazz go on a run. I'm really going to have to come up with numbers to back me up, but it doesn't take a genius to see it.

Here's a quick example: Fisher shot about 32% over the last month of the season. 32%! For a veteran, playing shooting guard (admittedly not his natural position)! (Sloan idiocy: Fisher's minutes increased as his FG% decreased) If this were abnormal, it might be more understandable; however, he shot 38%, and he's a career 39.7% shooter. I see all these articles about how he's "looking for his shot" or how he's "a smart veteran who'll get his shot back," I think, "When did he ever HAVE it?"

I was watching the game tonight and my mom came into the room as I was finished a "He sucks!" phrase. She then said, "Derek?" Yep. Even she knows.

(disclaimer: I'm sure he's very nice as a person, and I don't really fault him 100% for sucking so much; I fault Sloan for playing him so much, disregarding the fact that he's completely detrimental to the team's winning and progress)

But go Jazz!

Kobe's Happy

So I woke up Wednesday in some pretty intense pain, and I could barely move. Something's up with my back, though I have no idea what. I was supposed to fly back to Utah last night, but since I can't really even move, that didn't happen. Luckily Delta was so nice and they're willing to let me reschedule whenever my back gets better. (this advertisement was not paid for by Delta; I'm just genuinely happy with them)

The benefits of this? I didn't have any classes to get back to; Independent Study classes are great that way. I get additional beach time. Well, theoretically since I'm not moving right now. But the best part? Kobe's THRILLED to have more people to pay attention to him and play with him 24/7. Or maybe more 20/7, really, since my sleeping schedule overlaps with Mom's for about 4 hours. And Kobe loves playing at 2 am--if there's a ball and a person, he'll wake up LIKE THAT.

I need Rebecca's help in making sad, depressing posts somehow ridiculously funny. Rebecca: Help!

This is Rebecca's Dream!

This is even better than the breakup note.

What I've Learned This Semester

I hate Economics. I mean, I like money, but I hate studying Economics.

Jazz suck

That's it. Sloan sucks. He needs to be fired. NOW.

Easter Egg Hunt

Tonight might've been my favorite Easter egg hunt ever. Jamie, Emily and I wrote on tiny little pieces of paper, classic Rebecca quotes or classic Rebecca insults. We then hid them around #311 and had her find them--it was hilarious! We did the whole "hot" or "cold" hinting game, and she was just so uncomfortable the whole time that we couldn't stop laughing. Rebecca, I'm sure it was your favorite Easter egg ever, huh?

"You guys made this hard!"

Celebrity Lookalikes

Hot Krispy Kremes Are Amazing and Awful All at the Same Time

Tonight after bombing my midterm, Ben appeased me on the drive home and we stopped off to get some HOT Krispy Kremes. When I saw the HOT sign was on, it was all over. Unfortunately, I didn't really stop eating them when I should've. I ate four. And I was so sick tonight. I probably won't eat doughnuts for another year now. Which isn't all bad.

But it tasted SO good at the moment. And we had way too much fun watching the doughnuts being made. Maybe it all seemed good since we ditched class right after the midterm, and didn't stay for the additional hour. That might be it.

Jazz Game

So tonight I went with my uncle to the Jazz game. And by "went with my uncle," I mean, I got to go in the player's entrance with him and go through all the fun tunnels. He's the doctor for the team, so we got to eat dinner beforehand at the 100 Club on the 6th floor. Fancy schmancy stuff, and I saw Larry H. strutting through there with a pleasant smile on his face. It was fun having dinner with my uncle, especially since it was an all-you-can-eat buffet. That's where I score.

After dinner, we went back down to the tunnels and he had me wait outside the locker room while he checked in on someone, and tried to find tickets for me. During that time, Hoffa came through through tunnel, about 5 feet away. Dude's huge. They look big on TV, but man. 7'0'' is huge. Then the team came out and all of them went by about 2-5 feet from me--it was awesome! Derek Fisher threw his gum away . . . in the trash can I was leaning against! He almost touched me. It rocked. I'm such a nerd, I know.

Okay, these guys look big on TV, but not until they're a few feet away and I'm little in all my 5'3''ness do I realize just how huge they are. Hoffa weighs close to three times what I do, and is almost two feet taller than I am. Harpring is BUILT. And he does really interesting hip stretches to loosen up.

The usher lady pointed out Sloan's new wife to me. I kept hearing such horrible things about her that I expected her to be a dog, but she wasn't at all! She was pretty, looked classy, but definitely isn't Sloan's age. I'd guess 40's? I don't see where all the vitrolic comments were coming from . . .

Phil Johnson's wife was a doll--such a sweetheart.

Saw Larry H. walking by again and the guy doesn't look like he's holding up well, physically. His walk was very awkward and labored--back problems, maybe? Then I noticed the same thing with Sloan, and my uncle said he's really been struggling with back problems lately and will probably have to have surgery on it soon. Maybe he'll retire soon?! A girl can hope. His substitution patterns are awful 99% of the time. Even my uncle agrees, and he's so a "whatever!" kind of a guy. But even he thinks Collins and Fish get WAY too many minutes. Smart man.

Fun night.

Boo!

I may not be as funny as Rebecca, but I thought a blog would be fun. My friend Ben and I are were going to start our blogs last week during our boring ManEc 301 class, but the Internet went out in the classroom! We almost died.