And now I can breathe again

For the past few weeks I've been getting my Shakespeare on.  My professor assigned us a group project called "Reader's Theater" in which we had to divide into groups, pick a scene from one of Shakespeare's plays, and then perform it for the class.  Oh yes, that's a brilliant idea.  That'll be so fun. For all of the performance majors in the class (approximately three people).  Usually, I like these kind of projects where you have to act out what you've been reading.  Watching classmates' interpretations of the text is always hilarious.  But when it comes to Shakespeare---I'd rather disapeare.  Don't get me wrong.  It's fabulous when skilled actors perform these plays, using British accents to nicely highlight the elevated, and 400-year-old language.  But when untrained, slang-speaking, 20-somethings (who are only taking the class for their major or G.E. requirements) approach this archaic blank verse and iambic pentameter.....the result is tortuous.  Listening to 20 minutes of monotonous reading from a script, when I've just gotten out of bed, is not fun. Throw in a ton of foreign students, (who despite my earnest efforts I can't understand when they're speaking regular English, let alone Shakespeare's English) and you've got yourself a hot mess. 

People, the torment doesn't end there.  Not only have I had to be an audience member to such performances, but I had to be an actor too! Ha! Anybody who's anybody knows that, I, Anne Olson, cannot act.  I learned that the hard way when I auditioned for an Oscar Mayer Wiener commercial when I was 7.  After just one line of "My bologna has a first name" I was cut short with a brutal, and dream-crushing, "Don't call us, we'll call you."  The fragile walls that housed my 7-year-old hopes of becoming a famous actress were crushed by the big, black, wrecking ball of rejection.  Okay, so that's a little over-dramatized, but you get the picture.  I don't act. Period.  Except for when my grade depends on it, as was the case today.  So, for the past few weeks I've been practicing, and practicing, and memorizing lines from Richard III.   I had all of my lines perfect when just rehearsing by myself, in front of the mirror.  However, I have a severe case of heart-beats-so-fast-whenever-I'm-in-front-of-a-large-audience-that-my-mind-turns-to-jello-itis, otherwise known as stage fright.  No matter how long or how hard I prepare for performances of any kind, when it's go-time, I completely freeze up and my mind goes blank.  So, as you can imagine, I was dreading today's performance for my English 382 class.  To make a long, meaningless story short, I luckily remembered all my lines and got them all out coherently before turning into a bright red lobster at the end of our presentation.  Of course a member of my group wanted to record the blasted thing, so sometime soon I'm sure you can all expect a video to surface on Facebook.  Until then, I can just put the whole thing behind me and pretend like it never happened.  Let's just say: I'm glad the "dog is dead" (that was one of my lines).  Performance?  What performance? 

Sometimes I get a good feeling

Thank you Flo' Rida for the title of my post. Moving right along to the good stuff:

Two days ago I was walking down the hall, minding my own business, thinking about all of the stuff that I need to accomplish before I leave for home in a couple weeks (I'M SO EXCITED!), staring off into space, when I suddenly happened to look up and see my Shakespeare teacher walking in the hall in the opposite direction.  We made eye contact, said "hey", and then right as he passed me he said, "Thanks for a great term paper!".  (We got them back the other day in class and I got an A by the by).  AH! Nothing beats hearing one of your professors thank you for your great 10 page research paper!  I guess that kinda makes up for the hours I spent writing it, deep thoughts of disgust penetrating my mind.  Geez. What a good feeling.

In other news:
I realized something quite exciting the other day! I've attended at least a semester of every single level of schooling here in Hawaii: my last year of elementary school, all of middle school, just about a year of high school, and a semester of college! I can officially say that I went to school in Hawaii, I pretty much grew up here. DO you know what this means??? I know where I'm from now! Hawaii! Being that my dad is in the military and I grew up a little bit of everywhere, and that my parents are now divorced and living in two different states, I never quite know how to answer the question, "Where are you from?".  Now I can just say, "Hawaii" if I want to.  Again, what a good feeling.

Also:
87 days I have been living in Hawaii.
12 days till I go home to Colorado and see my friends and family.
18 days till Christmas.
23-ish days till I'm back in Provo and many parties ensue.
5 more days of class.
9 more days till this Winter semester is finally over...


...Sometimes I get a good feeling.

SANTA! SANTA'S COMING! I KNOW HIM! I KNOW HIM!

I love Christmas. I love everything about Christmas.  I love that the entire month of December, and even part of November, everyone gets all in the Christmas spirit and there is joy and cheer spread everywhere.  I can't even put in words how much I love Christmas, so I'll just give you a list of my favorite things about the month leading up to Christmas:

A) Apple cider, advent! (advent- i don't know, i think it's swedish, i just know that we do it every year: keep lighting one more candle each sunday leading up till christmas until there are four candles lit),
B) Baked goods galore
C) Christmas cards, candy canes, cocoa, chocolate santas, carolling, christmas music!cinnamon, cheer, and Christ's birth of course! curling up by the tree
D) Decorations! decking the halls and all that jazz! Deviled eggs- we make 'em every year!
E) Eggnog! Eggs Benedict, it's tradition, earmuffs, Elfyourself.com! : Check out this year's video! :)
F) Fa la la las! Fireplaces, fudge! FAMILY, friends! fun!
G) Grandma's glass candy, ginger bread houses! gaaaaaames! can't wait for the competition :)
H) Holiday happiness, holiday movies
I) Igloos, icicle
J) Jumbo marshmallows, jigsaw puzzles (we always gather round the table and do them!)
K) Kids being all happy and excited for santa!
L) Love! Everyone's so nice and cheery and giving and happy at christmas! lemon bars, and lights!! there's this neighborhood that always puts up 5,000+ lights and its our tradition to drive by it creepily like 15 times just to look at it.
M) music! thank goodness for the Pandora Christmas station! my family, i can't wait to see them! :)
N) Nuts + nutcrackers= big in our house, NO school!
O) Olives! we always have a couple trays full of olives and other things.  Michael and I always take like 10 olives and put them on each finger. bahaha.
P) Pumpkin cookies!
Q) quick stops to the store to pick up forgotten things, wouldn't be christmas without them!
R) Reading stories! we have this big book of christmas stories that we usually read, and we always read the nativity story from the Bible!
S) SNOW! snowmen, stockings, sledding! sleeping in! santa lucia (a swedish holiday on the 13th of decemeber we always celebrate!)
T) Treats of every kind imaginable, trimming the tree!, telling stories, talking with family, togetherness!
U) Unwrapping of presents (I love watching other people unwrap their presents more than anything!)
V) Vegie trays!
W) Watergate salad! Can't eat christmas dinner till Michael makes it! :)
X) (nothing starts with X guys)

Y) Yummy food, YES I'm so excited!!!
Z) Zero worries, zero stress (okay, maybe some stress...i mean, whose family get togethers don't include at least some stress??) but zero care about the stress because you're with your family and it's christmas! :)

Only 2 more weeks of school. One week of class and then finals.  I. Am. So. Stoked.  I'm gonna burst, I love christmas!!

"I Can Got This"

It's two o'clock in the p.m, and I've been sitting at this computer for a good 3 hours.  I have an 8-10 page paper due for my World Lit class tomorrow and I'm proud to announce that I've been quite on track.  I have 3 1/2 pages done! You may be thinking, "Anne, that's like a page an hour."  To that all I have to say is, "Yeah! Well, when you're writing a paper on the complications of the idea of Nigerian nationalism in the post-colonial text of Things Fall Apart by Chinua Achebe, racking your brain for things to say on this topic whilst incorporating 15 scholarly sources, you can come talk to me about a page an hour!" And now most of you are probably thinking, "Zzzzzzzzzzz" because you have fallen asleep at the very thought of post-colonial literature.  Anyways, I figure if I keep on keepin' on, at this rate, I'll have my minimum 8 pages finished by the time the library closes at midnight, so I'm good to go. 


As you've read before, research paper writing is not one of my fortes.  That is, it takes me an exceedingly long time and requires the utmost dedication in order for me to keep focused.  Here are the top four struggles:

1) For every paragraph I type, I erase two.  That is, I'll be sticking to my outline, keeping my paper organized and coherent, and then suddenly I bust out a bunch of tangential thoughts and find myself having to backspace for about 2 paragraphs.  That or I'll be thinking so much about how I hate writing research papers that I'll start typing sentences like, "The scholar Frantz Fanon understood that nationalism is... a bunch of crap and nobody really cares about this anyway, and the only person who will ever read this paper is my teacher so why do I have to write 10 stupid pages about useless junk anyway????"  after which much backspacing ensues once again. 

2) For every hour I work, I spend a half hour playing.  By playing I mean watching YouTube videos, listening to music, surfing Facebook, or blogging.  That last one still kinda boggles me.  Why is it that I take a break from writing to do more writing?  I can whip out 8 pages of blog like that, but research paper=no. 

3) Lost words and ability to think. There comes a point in my writing when I just can't think clearly any more, and so that prolongs the writing process tenfold.  It takes me a good five minutes just to type one solid sentence because it starts coming out like this, "I thirk natoionlism found book cause the guy wrot it and so yeah."  Yet, while I can't come up with words for my research paper, after working on my paper for a long time, I never seem at a lack of words for anything else.   That is, my blogging and speaking begin to take on my research-paper voice and it's quite irritating.  Like that, I could have just typed "it's stupid!" but instead I had to fight off the urge to type, "incomprehensibly irksome and platitudinous."  Geeeez.

4) Giving myself pep talks.  For every page that I write I have to stop and give myself a little pep talk to keep myself going.  I have to literally tell myself, "I can do this, I can do this, I can do this" and "Another page down, don't give up now" to make it through.  Most recently I told myself "I can got this", which you noticed is the title of this blog.  I once said that to my friend Glen when trying to encourage him.  I had tried to say, "You can do this" and "You got this" at the same time and it came out, "You can got this", which made us both really laugh, and ever since then it's been kind of an inside joke and something that I say all the time.

Anyways, you've probably realized by now that I'm just delaying getting back to my paper, and you probably are more than persuaded that I have a problem. I can no longer put this off...I need to finish this paper, so, I'll just leave it at, "I can got this!"  

Focus!

Have you ever found that when you need to do something very important, but you don't want to, that you can't seem to keep your attention on that thing, despite your most earnest efforts?  As a completely hypothetical and unrelated example, let's say you have two 12 page research papers to write by the end of next week.  If you just do a little bit each day, you'll be able to make it through without having to pull any of those caffeine-supported all-nighters next week.  You know that in order to maintain your sanity and to enjoy your Thanksgiving break in a few days (again, this is all hypothetical people), you need to accomplish one seemingly simple task before you leave the library today:  Write the first four pages of one of your research papers.  You already have an outline, you have all the research done, you have quotes nicely lined up on a page, your bibliography is complete.  All you have to do is write dangit! But for some reason, every two lines of writing, you have to keep fighting the urge to turn to check your Facebook page, or watch a video on YouTube, or email a long lost friend, or google some completely random and meaningless trivia you've been thinking about....anything to divert your attention from your paper! And the thought of being at home, curled up with some cookies and cocoa, watching a movie on the couch sounds really, really, tantalizing.  All the while, you're thinking, "Silly me, if I would just buckle down and do this thing, I could be out of this stinkin' cold, crusty library and at home doing just that! This is my last homework for today! You can't afford to push this off till tomorrow! Just do it! It's already 4:00 you fool! You've been here for hours! Get this done before it's dark outside please!"  And, hypothetically speaking, your focus is so hard to manage that you might even find yourself blogging about how your focus is hard to manage.  Has such a ridiculous, and completely fictional experience ever happened to you?  Pshaw! Of course not. That's absurd. Hypothetical.... 

B-b-baking!

 It was Saturday.  It was my roommate's birthday.  It was awesome.

My roommate turned 21 on Saturday, so in honor of her special day, and in honor of my appetite, I decided to go on a 2 day cinnamon-bun-baking-spree.  Saturday I got up at 6 to make cinnamon rolls for my amazing roommate "Ramsey's" birthday breakfast before I headed to campus to take a midterm that morning.  My roommate Ramsey is a hilarious and witty and extremely intelligent human being who makes for great conversation.  Sadly, I won't have the privilege of late night chat sessions with her for much longer because she is flying home on Wednesday.  For good. (Yes, I will have to endure having my very own room for the rest of the semester, quite the inconvenience, I know...) I will miss Ramsey, but I'm excited for her to be home with her friends and family, and admittedly, quite jealous.

Back to baking bidness,
Saturday I made Swedish-style cinnamon rolls for Ramsey, and when I woke up Sunday I decided that I wanted to make some for myself.  So I did just that.  Everything went quite nicely for the most part.  The house was filled with the tantalizing smell of yeasty goodness and my stomach was filled with cinnamony bliss.  I made enough cinnamon rolls to last me a lifetime/3 bins full of buns/till that dreaded, doleful, day when I reach my hand into one of my Tupperware containers only to have my hand hit the barren bottom.  Until then, life is like a cupboard full of soft, icing glazed, mouth-watering cinnamon rolls: absolutely delectable. 

Of course, no baking adventure involving a certain person named Anne goes without its crazy and potentially life-threatening mishaps.  Nothing went wrong with the actually cooking process, thank the heavenly baked goodness, but let's just say that Sunday morning was...electrifying.  So, I had to use a pair of scissors to cut open a packet of yeast.  After I was finished with the scissors I went to put them back into the cup full of pens, pencils, and scissors on the counter.  Unbeknownst to me, painstakingly close to the cup of school supplies is a hidden power outlet.  By some stroke of bad luck, I managed to hit the tip of the scissors right into the socket.  Suddenly there were sparks flying everywhere, and electric buzzing ringing in the air, and a frightened Anne receiving the shock of her life (literally!).  After being zapped for a couple of seconds I managed to let go of the scissors.  Unfortunately, the scissors were still stuck in the socket, so I had to find a wooden spoon to courageously whack those suckers out of there.  Needless to say, a small portion of my baking experience left me looking like this:

 Despite the brief stint with electrocution, the cinnamon rolls turned out heavenly and I have been in a state of sheer glee ever since. 

Yummmmm

Let's Not and Say We Did

Last night was a night that I can now add to a group of life experiences which I like to refer to as my Death Defying Days (DDD's for short).  Somehow I find myself from time to time in situations which are dangerous and downright ridiculous to be in, and end up under the category of a DDD.  I guess it's a good thing because if they weren't death defying, well then, there would be no Anne to blog about them.  Some of these DDD's are serious, like the time I was in a rolling car accident and broke my neck and it was truly lucky that no one sustained a worse injury than mine.  Others are less grave in nature, like the time I took an icicle to the head because I was knocking down icicles from my gutter with rake.  That event simply ended in stitches, but it could have been worse had the icicle been any larger and sharper and fallen in just the right (or wrong) way.  Thus, it is a memory labeled as a DDD in my mind.  Last night's rendezvous with death, fortunately, was more like the latter experience.

My friend, let's call her Sharen, and I had plans to go get something called an "Acai bowl" yesterday.  She told me that one of her other friends was coming, so naturally, when she pulled up in my driveway to pick me up, I was expecting there to only be the three of us in the car.  Silly Anne.  That's not how they do things in Hawaii.  Apparently, there exists this unwritten rule that whenever you drive somewhere you have to pack as many people as humanly possible into the car.  I opened the door to find 3 fully grown college students in the back seat, Sharen in the driver's seat, and another college student in the passenger's seat.  "Ummmm......" I stood there unsure of what to do.  "Hop in!" Sharen said.  "Okayyy...." I said without the least bit of confidence that hopping in was actually an option.  Luckily the person closest to me was someone I had at least met a few times and shared a class with, so I wasn't going to be sitting on a complete stranger.  With some source of divine intervention I was able to clamber into that tiny, jam-packed car and shut the door (at least until I heard the first click).  Once I was in I assumed we'd be making our way to the Acai Bowl place.  Wrong again.  You'd think I'd learn to expect the exact opposite of what is logical by now.  We pulled into another driveway.  There we picked up yet another passenger to join us on our escapade.  She squeezed her way into the front seat.  I wouldn't have been surprised if we had stopped to pick up more people, but to my relief we headed down the road to eat Acai bowls, four grown people in the back seat of a compact car, 3 in the front, limbs flailing out the windows.  As we made our way to the shop I feared that one of the not-quite-shut doors would fly open and couldn't help myself from imagining my body (seeing as I was the one mashed against the door) hurtling out of the car and onto the highway. 

We arrived at the Acai bowl (still not sure what that is) place only to learn that it was closed.  Great.  We had traveled in this clown car for nothing.  Someone suggested McDonalds and so we satisfied our need for sweets at the home of the golden arches.  Don't ask me how 7, once again grown, (it'd be different if some of us were small children) individuals, now filled to the brim with fast food, were able to fit back into that dilapidated old vehicle.  I almost offered to just walk home because it would mean a free-from-doubt-of-survival way home, but we managed to get everyone into the car before I could.  I was never more happy to be dropped off at home.  Such a relief.  Anyone who knows me even remotely can testify that I'm no thrill/adventure/or danger seeker.  Ever since my DDD of a car accident where I actually almost died, I'm all about car safety.  Whenever I get in a car putting my seatbelt on is my first course of action.  So, you can only imagine how sincerely terrified I was during last night's episode of Death Defying Days of Anne's Life. 

Call me a nerd, but I will always be the one to echo Ms. Frizzle's sound advice of "Seatbelt's everyone!"

This is Halloween

I just realized today is Halloween.  It's honestly not a hard to thing to forget considering I'm in Hawaii and it doesn't even remotely feel like fall.  There are hardly any decorations up in town and I'm not dressing up this year.  Sad, I know.  But really, since there isn't anything Halloween-y going on tonight, I'm not gonna dress up just to sit on my couch.

I miss Halloween.  It used to be one of my favorite holidays.  I would prepare my costumes months in advance.  Come July, I already had my costume picked out and the materials necessary to construct it.  It was almost as big as Christmas. The month of October my brother and I would watch "scary" movies every night on Disney Channel, like Hocus Pocus and Nightmare Before Christmas.  We'd get up early on Saturday mornings, turn down the shades and lights in the family room, and curl up under a blanket, cradling each other as we terrified ourselves watching Goosebumps.  Then, there were usually many parties and opportunities to dress up and get candy at Church functions or my dad's work the week before Halloween. 


When the actual night of Halloween rolled around it was utter joy.  Michael and I would get ready hours in advance.  In elementary school I went as a witch every year.  I used to have the coolest light up witch-hat.  One year I decided to be a bum because I thought it would be the coolest thing ever to walk around with holey clothes and a sack tied to a stick, but my mom quickly nixed that one because she said it wasn't very  nice to dress up like a homeless person.  So, I went as a witch that year too. 

In middle school I realized that everyone dressed up like a witch and got a little more daring with my costumes.  Once I showed up at school dressed as a tourist for the costume contest.  No one seemed to understand that I was actually in costume because I lived in Hawaii.  The next year I went as a dog, and it was super cute.  I wore all black and wore a black baseball cap backwards with white socks coming out of the sides for ears. Then I painted my nose black and drew on some dots and whiskers.  Unfortunately, with my hair pulled back and not having gone through puberty yet, everyone thought I was a boy.  Door after door of, "Awe, you look cute son!" made explaining that I was a girl tiring and so I eventually just took the compliment (and my candy) and walked away.  After that I dressed up as things like Thing 1 and Thing 2, a mime, and a clown.  So fun!

High school was when I really stepped up the game.  I quickly learned that no one gave candy to teenagers unless their costumes were really good, so I had to pull out the big guns.  It helped that my best friend Kelsey was full of great ideas.  We were quite the pair.  When we were feeling lazy we dressed up as Air Force women in our dad's old military BDU's.  It was cool because we had our own last names on our jackets.  We were legit.  Or when we were short on time we'd put on our snowboarding gear and go as snowboarders.  Those costumes actually came in handy for trick-or-treating in Colorado because by Halloween you could always expect snow.  Other years we would spend weeks on our costumes.  Once we went as duct-tape-superheroes.  Notice the cleaning gloves. (Oh, I was also obsessed with Sunny Delight at the time...hence the sunny...D...) My favorite was when we dressed up as cars.  Yep.  We're special.  We spray painted cardboard boxes.  Kelsey's was really cool, she went as a race car.  ( I wish I had a picture)  I, still obsessed with Twilight (teenagers...) went as Bella's truck.  

That's dedication. 

Wasn't it great when Halloween meant so much?  Remember heading out into the cool, crisp night, the rich smell of fall in the air, leaves crunching beneath your feet?  I loved that feeling, that smell.  I loved spending hours walking around with my brother, filling our pillowcases to the brim. No joke, we'd leave the minute trick-or-treating started and stay out until a good twenty minutes after it ended.  We knew that by the end people just wanted to turn their lights out and stop getting knocks so they'd just dump their bowls into your bag.  We knew which houses gave out the king-sized bars.  I'm telling you, it was a science.  I think my record was 11 pounds and Michael's was 14.  14 pounds of candy!! It lasted us till February.  Then, when we were so sick of smelling the chemicals on our faces, and so tired of hauling all that weight around (14 pounds!), hands and arms covered in face paint from wiping our sweating faces, we'd head home.  There our mom had fresh-hot delivered pizza waiting for us.  We'd shower, change, and race downstairs to eat pizza and sprawl out on the living room floor to sort our candy and watch a Halloween movie with our family.  Awe...the good old days.  I think I'm feeling so nostalgic because this is the first year I haven't dressed up.  I'm definitely going to curl up on the couch and watch a spooky movie and eat pizza for old times sake though.  I love Halloween.  :) At any rate.....

This is NOT okay

 Vocab word of the day: ludicrous

It was Tuesday afternoon and I had just decided to take a break from homework and go to the beach.  On the walk over to the beach I had the thought to call my little brother.  It had been a while since I had chatted with him, so I thought, what the heck, pulled up his name in my contacts and gave him a ring.  As the phone rang, I was thinking of what I should say when he answered. (I always try to think of interesting or exciting ways to respond when the person on the other end says, "Hello?", such as using a poorly delivered foreign accent) I finally resolved to say something along the lines of, "Heeeeey Micycle!! Haha...i just called you micycle...it's a cross between Michael and bicycle..get it???"  But then it happened.

The phone stopped ringing and on the other side a deep man's voice answered, "Hello?".  I stared at my phone. Did I dial the wrong number on accident? I checked. Nope. The screen read "Michael."  Hmm...maybe it's one of his friends answering for him, I thought.  "Yeah, hey," I said.  "Who is this?" said the man.  "Um...it's, you know, Anne," I said quizzically.  "Oh. Hey Anne," said the voice.  I was stumped.  "Who is this?" I demanded.  "Ha! Stop being stupid Anne," came the deep-voiced reply.  It was certainly a Michael-like thing to say, but I wasn't sure.  It hadn't been that long since I last talked to my brother, had it? Surely I would recognize his voice.
"No really," I said, "Who is this?".
"You're dumb. You know who it is," he said.
"Err...is this really Michael?" I questioned.
"Duh...", he said.
"What. Really? Are you sick or something?", I asked.
"No....", he said.
"Look, is this Michael for real?", I demanded. 
"Yeeees. You're stupid!" Michael was becoming frustrated.
"Okay, okay, okay," I said, finally believing. "You're voice just sounds so...deep..."
"You're so stupid Anne! It's always been this deep!" Michael scoffed.
"Yeah, it was deep before, but now you sound like a man," I said.
"I hate you," Michael joked.

Seriously guys.  It took me a good 10 minutes before I even would believe it was Michael, and every once and I while I had to keep checking, because I refused to believe that voice belonged to this guy:














And not some guy that looks like this:

Once I was thoroughly convinced it was Michael and not Barry White, we actually had a really great conversation about Psych and how awesome that show is.  I love my brother.  I just can't believe he's that old.  Also, my mom told me she saw him holding a girl's hand the other day and I had a freakout moment.  I guess he's 17, but I still see him as the little blonde kid taking a poop on the driveway.  (See my post dedicated to Michael for the whole story...) Anywayz...I guess I'm getting old and my brother is too. It's just weird!

TGIW

Thank goodness it's the weekend. (In case the consonant change threw you for a loop there...)

Everyone, listen.  School is ridiculous, death, non-stop busy work, er....kicking my butt. Yep, that about sums it up.  No really, every time Friday night rolls around I feel like climbing up into some tower like Quasimoto and shouting, "Sanctuaaaaary, saaaanctuary!" while staring out into the middle distance.  I just finished reading my fifth 200+ page novel, second oral presentation, and 20-somethingth paper, and the next two weeks is midterms, and then after that I get to start working on my three 10-12 page research papers.....yay me! The awesome thing is, I know I'm not the only person swamped like this. Everyone is.  This is college after all.  So I can't complain...it just helps to get it all out there sometimes.  I'm feeling better already.  Needless to say, I live for the weekends so that I can recharge a little from my oh-so-overexaggeratedly-stressful life.  I'm a drama queen. I know it.

So...what do I do on my Friday nights? Am I out partying it up with all my homies?  Surfing at the beach?  Swashbuckling with the coolest kids in town?   Nay.  I am at home, tucked away in my room with my comfy clothes, munching on popcorn, Swedish candy, and other goodies from the awesome care package that my mom sent me, and drawing pictures.  "Riveting", you're sarcastically thinking.  It really is.  I quite enjoy it.  I mean, just look at all the fun I'm having:

Can't go wrong with tape, crayola markers, and a spiral notebook.

My bed is blocked on three and half sides.  My roommate's bed blocks half of one side, leaving just a little space for me to climb in and out, there's a wall on two sides, and a big desk/cabinet thing on the fourth side.  So, I essentially have my own little cave thing going on and had to decorate it.

Check out the Spidey pillow...you're so jealous

Think back to your elementary school days for a second with me.  Remember those prodigious (I recently watched October Sky for the first time...) countdown chains you used to make in class to countdown the days till Christmas?  I definitely made one for the cave last night! 56 days left until the end of the semester!
Don't get me wrong, I love it here, I love school, I love Hawaii, etc...but I also love countdowns.

Yeah boy.  I will also proudly note that I got less marker on myself than usual this time.  Despite the fact that I'm almost a senior in college, I still color like a kindergartner.  Usually I wind up with my wrists, fingertips and arms covered in marker, but last night, not so.  Just a tad on my thumb.  Booyah. So that was my Friday.  Quite lovely.  What did I do with my Saturday, you ask? (Don't worry, not more coloring) I slept in for the first time in weeks, till 9:30.  I had some oatmeal and hot chocolate for breakfast and then curled up on the couch to watch a few episodes of Psych! (I brought Season 5 with me to Hawaii, best decision of my life.)  Then, I decided to do something semi-productive with my life and went on a run.

Back from my run.  So healthy.

After that I did some reading for class and headed to to the library where I am currently updating my blog. Next I'm going to hang out with one of the few friends that I have made since moving here! Yay for being social! We're going to watch a movie and eat snacks (sound familiar? At least I'm doing it with someone else this time! Haha).  Basically...I treasure my weekends.  That song TGIF is pretty much my theme song.  Except I'm not waking up with a stranger in my bed, being kicked out of bars, or skinny dipping in the dark...so....really the only line I can relate to in that song is, "TGIF!". Maybe I should find a more appropriate theme song....nuance. 

reJamy beDry

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful, talented, and witty girl, named nAne lOson, living in a charming, yellow, cottage style home on the coast of a breath-taking tropical island called....for all intents and purposes...Para'dis.  One day, while frolicking in the palm-tree lined streets of Para'dis, nAne heard a familiar electronic jingle coming from her pocket.  To nAne's great joy, the jingle was signaling an incoming phone call from her dear friend, reJamy beDry.  Hitting the "answer" button on her phone, you know, the one with the little green telephone symbol on it, and sitting down on a nearby bench underneath a banana tree, nAne answered, "reJamy! My dearest, long lost friend from that-place-where-I-used-to-live, how aaaare you?"

          "Mmm..can't complain, can't complain," responded reJamy.
"Oh, good, I'm so glad," nAne said, "Say, how's that-place-where-I-used-to-live these days?" 
          "It's actually quite flourishing and great since you've been gone," said reJamy, fiendishly. 
"Yeah...well...now that I'm in Parad'is and all, I don't really have much time to think about that-place-where-I-used-to-live anyways," responded nAne, quite despondently. 
       "Pshaw, nAne, I bet you fill your pillow with tears of longing every night because you miss it so much," said reJamy.
"Yep, yep, that's true," said nAne.
"So...why don't you just scurry yourself back on over here and be done with it then.  If you leave in a couple months you'll be back just in time for Winter!" exclaimed reJamy quite suddenly. 
    Taking a couple seconds to extensively weigh all the pros and cons of living in Parad'is and in that-place-where-I-used-to-live, nAne finally sighed and said, "Yeah, okay."

    
Already bored with the conversation, reJamy said, "Well great, so anyways, why is your blog so boring?  I mean really.  If I'm going to expend any of my preciously-prized studying time towards reading your blog, it might as well at least be interesting!"
     As reJamy concluded her peevish remarks, nAne was overcome with a sudden sensation of confusion.  How to respond to such an accusation??? As luck would have it, two tiny figures appeared on either side of nAne's head and rested on her shoulders.  "Um...can I call you back in 1.5 miliseconds reJamy?" nAne said quickly into the earpiece of her cellphone right before hitting the "end" button. 

    Examining these small beings more closely, nAne realized they were miniscule versions of herself.  One was dressed in a brightly decorated floral dress and wielding a small wooden, stringed instrument, and the other was in beach attire.  The mini-awesome-nAne wearing the dress spoke first, "Hey, Jumbotron! Listen, just thank reJamy for her input and say that you'll work on making your blog more interesting! Problem solved!"  Before she could respond, nAne felt a small tug on a piece of hair on the opposite side of her head.  Mini-slacker-nAne shouted, "No, no...You're gonna listen to that joker? I mean look at her, she's got that sissy-stringy thing."
    "We've been over this, it's a ukulele," said mini-awesome-nAne in exasperation. 
"That's a ukulele, and that's a dress," taunted mini-slacker-nAne. 
"Yes, this is a dress," said mini-awesome-nAne.

 Quickly becoming even more confused, and feeling as though she had watched this scene before somewhere, perhaps in some kind of film about talking llamas and old women who were scary beyond all reason or something, nAne shook her head and sighed, "Look, this isn't really a situation in which I need the advice of shoulder...angels....so why don't you two just boot, scoot, n' boogie on outta here."  Taking offense and shouting words which probably aren't appropriate for innocent blog-readers, the two mini-nAnes vanished. 
    What the heck was I even doing....thought nAne to herself, as her phone began to jingle.  It was reJamy.  "Hallo?" said nAne.
"Hey, so are you gonna make your blog better or what?," snivelled reJamy quite Snape-ishly. 
    "Nope. I plan to keep it as platitudinous as humanly possible," nAne said with fervor.  
"Plati-what-i-mous?" said reJamy.
   "Platitudinous.  You know, unexciting? Dull. Boring," said nAne blandly.  
"What in the...?" reJamy trailed off, "Look, I gotta go."  

And then nAne hung up the phone as reJamy was mumbling something about creepy Mother Gothel costumes or something.  The End.  


Ps....drawing with Paint is very difficult and time consuming, so consider yourself honored.

V-to-the-ocal Point!

Boy, I think about it every night and day. Guys, I'm addicted, and I just can't get enough....of BYU Vocal Point, that is.   Ever since my older sister first brought home a Vocal Point CD when I was in middle school, I have been smitten.  When I was in high school and learned that VP was coming to Colorado Springs to perform at Pine Creek High School, I thought I would die.  It was bliss. Pure bliss.  There sound is so smooth.  Their beatboxing skills are so brilliant.  Their soul is so swanky.  And their members are so fine.  Ahem....Needless to say, I'm addicted.  Countless hours have been spent basking in the musical glory at many a concert in Provo.  Guess what the top played playlist on my iPod is.  Go ahead, guess.  Honestly, VP is on the list of the top 5 things I miss most about Provo since coming to Hawaii.

In order to effectively express my feelings about this heaven-inspired-musical-group, I've compiled a top ten list. 

Top 10 Reasons Why I Can't Live Without BYU Vocal Point

10.  BYU Vocal Point is comprised of 9 amazing individuals from my home school, BYU Provo.  

9.  VP is currently repping BYU by competing in NBC's "The Sing-Off", and they are off the a capella hook.  

8.  Every time I watch VP perform live or on YouTube or the Sing-off, I melt.  My heart literally turns to liquid and I can think of nothing but VP for days.  No seriously, their rendition of "Footloose" has been on replay in my head for hours.  

7. The members of VP are good, solid guys whose spirits shine through their music every time they perform.  You really couldn't find a better group of students to represent BYU as well as they do.
6.  Beat. Box.  Need I say more?  I always turn to VP for inspiration when I'm in the beatboxing mode. 
5.  Good, clean entertainment.  Every Vocal Point concert I have ever been to has been hilarious and uplifting.  They always do a really stellar job of performing a variety of songs that leave the audience feeling motivated, inspired, moved, touched, patriotic, cheery, excited, and giggly all at the same time.
4. Clean cut men with heart-melting voices...I mean really, what more is there to life?

3.  These guys can jive.  I mean really jive.  Just....just watch:

2. Every member of VP has the individual ability to take away someone's breath. Exhibit A:

One day, while walking on campus with a good friend of mine...who we shall refer to as Mashley... we saw a member of VP riding his bike on the sidewalk in front of us.  (I won't name him...but his name may or may not closely resemble the name Men Burphy...) We had just gone to a VP concert days before.  Seeing the VP member, Mashley took a gigantic step backwards and gasped.  Loudly.  So you see...VP guys can take people's breaths away.  I have countless other stories I could share about friends of mine seeing VP members on campus and reacting in funny ways....but I won't embarrass any more of my friends.

And, the number one reason why I can't live without BYU Vocal Point is.....

1.  Although I joke about how breathtaking and enchanting the guys of Vocal Point are, there is more to it than that.  It isn't their good looks that melt my heart.  (Although, let's be honest...it does contribute) It's their music.  Their swickety sweet sound.  It's the ability of 9 random guys to come together and create music that has the power to move an entire audience to its feet.  It's the influence for good that 9 random guys can have on the lives of others just through vocals alone.  It's pretty incredible.  It's also pretty humbling.

So...there you have it.  Look them up on YouTube. Watch them on the Sing-Off.  Like them on Facebook.  And, enjoy the splendor that is BYU Vocal Point.

The Most Awesome Ladies in the World

Dear everyone everwhere:

My two relatives, who shall remain slightly anonymous for privacy's sake, (let's call them Flynn and Wamy) are the absolute coolest and sweetest people ever!

You may remember a post I wrote not too long ago, reminiscing about a favorite pair of shoes that I once had that I missed dearly.  Lamenting the loss of my worn-way-out-because-I-loved-them-so-much shoes after I finally decided to throw them away, I blogged about my woes.  My dear family members, Flynn and Wamy, (have I mentioned that they're awesome) read this post and each went in halves to get me a new pair of these way awesome shoes (Vibram Five Fingers).  They got here yesterday and I haven't been able to take them off!! I went on my first run with them today and just as before, I ran faster and longer than I ever have with any other shoe.  They are the comfiest, coolest, amazingest shoes in the world, and I owe it all to two wonderful women, Flynn and Wamy.  I can't even begin to express in words how thankful I am, but,

THANK YOU SO FREAKING MUCH! I LOVE YOU GUYS! YOU'RE THE BEST! :)

Way to make a sometimes-silly, often-outrageous, kinda-crazy, college girl's day! You guys rock!
I hope you're all insanely jealous of my awesome family (and my shoes). 

Word.

Precious Gems from the Vault of Anne

I once gave a speech in my public speaking class on this very topic, but recent occurrences have inspired me to write a post about itl.  Feel free to take out your handy-dandy notebook and jot down a few lines, because I have now stepped into advice mode.

Tip of the day: Smile

Little known facts about smiling:

• A smile makes you look infinitely more attractive. Think about it.  Who would you rather talk to?

  ?  Or...      ?

• There are hundreds of languages in the world and a smile speaks all of them.
• If you're smiling people will wonder what you've been up to.
• Research shows that people who smile more often tend to be happier, healthier, and more successful
• Studies show that smiling has a positive influence in overcoming depression.
• People are more likely to notice, approach, and feel more comfortable around a smiling person.

The fact of the matter is, walking around campus I see too many beaten down, haggard, exhausted, blue, frustrated, and worn out faces.  Perhaps in a lot of cases, people's faces are an accurate reflection of how they are feeling. It's easy to feel down and out as a busy college student or hard working member of society.  But, there are so many reasons to smile, and when you start thinking of these reasons, and start smiling, then sooner or later you start focusing on those positive things rather than all of your worries.  The obstacles never go away.  Sorry, that's life.  But, perspective has a significant impact on the quality of life you live.  Happiness is a choice.  When you're happy in spite of your challenges, and approach the rough patches with a smile, it's easier.  Trust me.


However, I've noticed that a person's expression isn't always an accurate display of what's going on inside. A person may look like they had too many burritos for breakfast or like their dog was just run over by a car, when in fact, they really are having a great day.  People don't think so much on whether or not they are smiling, but perhaps they should.  Exhibit A: 


Last Friday, I was walking home from class, at a rather fast pace.  I was feeling great, the wind was in my hair, it was finally the weekend, and I was going straight home to change and head to the beach.  Unbeknownst to me, a car full of Good Samaritans was driving past me as I walked and was not able to penetrate my thoughts and understand that I was overjoyed.  Before I knew it, the car pulled over onto the grass next to me and two girls shouted out the window, "HEY! Are you okay???"  Looking around and seeing no person crying in despair or children in peril, I realized they were talking to me.  "Oh, me?" I say quizzically, "I'm great!"  Not quite satisfied with my response and hesitant to drive away, one of the girls says, "You looked really upset! Are you alright?  Is everything okay?".  Reassuring them, I say, "Yes, I'm doing well.  Thanks for your concern."  Deciding to take my word for it, the car finally proceeded towards its destination, but not before all of the girls in the car had said things like, "Your shoes are really cute!" and "Have a great day!".  Lesson learned.  Regular, every day Anne face appears to everyone else as hopelessly distraught face.  Yikes.

The point is, smile.  It's a sure fire, easy, way to instantly improve your self-image and make yourself more appealing. It's also the quickest and most cost efficient gift you can give someone.  With 2 seconds and 47 muscles, you can greatly improve another person's day, or at least a part of their day, and make them smile too.  "Smiling is contagious, so why not start an epidemic?"