Apple Jacks

I'm pretty sure there isn't a single apple in that cereal.

Their advertising slogan? "Why are they called Apple Jacks if they don't taste like apples?"

Fun with AtP

The first time I met AtP was at Smurf's house. It was the first time I met Smurf too, come to think of it...I had been reading AtP's blog for a little while--the Native had told me about meeting AtP at the EG Conference. As soon as I saw AtP, I knew it was him. He confirmed my assumption, and the four of us (the Jerman was there too) watched Tim Burton's The Corpse Bride. [I love Danny Elfman.]

During the movie, one of Smurf's friends (we will call him E), came over. Afterwards, we piled into Smurf's car and went to Ihop. Apparently this was Smurf's first time driving (whatever that means) so it was quite the adventure.

The hostess seated us, and our waiter--an obviously gay man who called himself V for the evening--took our orders. We all got the same thing: caramel french toast with bananas. AtP asked for extra caramel and winked at V. It totally worked. We talked and ate and laughed, making comments about our strange waiter and AtP's shameless flirtation. I thought AtP was the strangest person--his laugh was SO incredibly loud, and he was so awkward about everything. I found it quite hilarious. AtP seemed to find amusement in my amusement with him, and by the end of the night we were "best friends...for e...and e...and e..." *trails off....*

The evening ended with me getting Smurf's and AtP's numbers so we could play again sometime.

Then there was last night, at Costa Vida. This time with Agirlwho, Changing Countenance, SkyBluePink, and the New Kid. The best part of the night: When Agirlwho called AtP.

AtP: "Hello?"
Agirlwho: "Hi!" (or something thereabouts)
AtP: "Is this [insert man's name]?"

After the phone call, we asked how he could mistake Agirlwho for a guy.

AtP: "This guy is really gay."

Thanks, AtP, for always being amazingly entertaining.

To the Native

Happy Birthday my dear friend!

Stupid

"Do you ever feel like you just want to make out with someone, and you don't even care who it is?"
--Roommate B

Yep. Not just make out though. I want someone to hold my hand and play with my hair and let me snuggle close too ("someone" referring to a male, preferably).

Stupid [lack of] romance.

A sucker for cute kids

One of the girls I taught to ring bells found me on myspace today. She left me a comment that said she missed me.

I melted.

Some of my favorite memories are with children/teenagers I've taught and watched grow. It makes me so proud to have helped them be successful and to see them all growed up. I miss my little kids from Missouri Street. I miss my beginning bell group. More than all the sarcastic, crazy, rebellious fun times I had with that singing group, I loved teaching the best.

This sounds so MORMON, but I think I was born to be a mom.

Hmm.

Not yet though.

: )

I absolutely loved the Jerman's most recent post. So I'm copying him. I don't care if it's not Valentime's Day--I still love people!

The Native: I can truly be myself with you. I can talk to you about anything, and you continue to teach me and push me to be the finest I can be. You treat me like a queen, and you have an uncanny ability to read me and make me happy. Yours is a true example of Christ.

Cuorderoy: Forever crazy, spirited, hard-working, and fun. I can talk to you about serious things as well as weird things. You aren't afraid to go outside the box, and you are hilarious when you talk to yourself. I love waking up to your face every day! Hehe.

Matt: My amazing Brazilian friend! I wonder what I would have done without you this past year. You are such a wonderful example to me, and you have such a sweet spirit. Not to mention you are a freaking stud! I'm so grateful to know you, and I can't wait until we can meet in person! HueHUehUIEHUi. Your conversations will be missed greatly when you are on your mission!

Roommates B and C: I am so lucky to have such wonderful roommates! I love that we are all good enough friends that we can sit around talking for hours. You have been so supportive of me--encouraging me with my audition, running errands for me when I was sick--I'm so glad to have you around! You are *in Strong Bad voice imitating a teenage girl's voice* SOOOOOOOO GOOD!

The Jerman: You never cease to surprise me. Though quieter than the rest of us, you always have something amazing to say. I love your subtle humor and how much you value morality. It's one of my favorite things to make you laugh, and I always feel like an amazing person for having done so. Perhaps one day you will dance for us.

Popsicle, Char, and Sister Dawg: I don't talk to you three as much, but somehow we are still close. I know I could ask you guys for anything and you would be there. And just thinking of you makes me smile.

Big Brother: The small time I spent in Singles ward was worth it to be your friend, even if you don't believe snickerdoodles are cookies. I love talking to you and hope that someday we will see each other on campus.

To everyone else: If you've been a part of my life, even in a small way, I appreciate you. Just ask me, and I'll tell you how much you mean to me! I love you all!

The ghost of Valetimes past

Tomorrow, as we all are keenly aware of, is Valentime's Day (yes, I said Valentime's), more appropriately known as Singles Awareness Day.

Boy, are we aware.

As most young children, I loved Valentime's Day in elementary school. Everyone brought candy and cheesy cards to class. One of the best days of the year.

In junior high and high school--I was not a fan. There was a different guy every year, and I still had no success.

Freshman year, my would-be-boyfriend-if-I-had-been-sixteen gave everyone Valentime's because he was such a grand guy. Barf.

Sophomore year, I was satisfied with the entertainment gained through sending my "husband" a candygram that said something scandalous about how I enjoyed our evening together. No romance ever evolved from that situation, but at least I wasn't incredibly depressed.

Junior year, the guy I was "dating" (mind you, this was a long-distance relationship and he refused to say we were officially dating, even though we were) didn't even bother to call me. I called him, and we talked for no more than five minutes before he had something else more pressing and important to attend to. Barf again. What the heck was I thinking?

Senior year (last year) I was in love with the Native (how could you not be?) and he told me he was gay a few days before Valentime's Day. I was so depressed. Popsicle and I lamely went to see Curious George with my nine-year-old brother. When I got home, Char wanted me to meet her Brazilian friend. I was in no mood to be social, but he messaged me anyway and I spilled my personal problems to him thinking that he was too detached for it to matter. I know it was a stupid idea, but from that idiotic decision of mine came an amazing friendship between the Native, Matt the Brazilian, and I.

So tomorrow, the three of us celebrate our anniversary. Too bad we're all separated. Weirdly enough, Popsicle's brother CheeseWheel and his roommate (who has yet to be named) are coming with my roommates and I to throw gummy bears at couples . Oh, a random guy from my bell group is coming too. We will call him Woodsy. He's cool.

And the Native, unlike the lame almost-boyfriend of junior year, has promised to call me.

For once, I'm not dreading Valentime's Day. Good luck to the rest of you.

Of James Madison, saltine crackers, and roommates

I didn't go to church today. I'm sick. Blah. Every time I eat something my stomach contorts with horrible pain. Since 2:30pm yesterday all I've eaten is a single Ritz cracker. I took some Pepto Bismol, which doesn't particularly help. I've also tried drinking some Sprite, which hasn't helped either. I'm hesitantly eating a saltine cracker right now, hoping that the magic combination of saltines and clear soda will miraculously cure me. Until I am cured, I will sit here in bed blogging and reading an incredibly boring biography on James Madison.

I received a letter in the mail yesterday from the BYU School of Music. I didn't get in. Disappointing, yes, but I hadn't really gotten my hopes up so I wasn't totally crushed. All this means is that I have to decide now if I want to re-audition next year, or if I want to pursue another major entirely. So I have a lot of thinking and praying to do.

Cue saltine no.2.

The roommates (excluding Roommates D and E--they weren't home and probably wouldn't participate even if they were) and I chatted for several hours last night. It was then that I revealed the gay identities of a few of the Queerosphere bloggers (with their permission of course). Cuorderoy already knew, and Roommates B and C weren't surprised. We had a good, long talk about it, and they were thoroughly inspired by their example. They were also happy to know that they had so many gay friends. I love my roommates. They are amazing.

I've had four saltines. I'm so hungry--I could finish two bags of these things--but I'm afraid of what will happen if I eat any more.

I wonder how cows deal with four stomachs. It must be awful.

Salsa

Last night, Cuorderoy, Popsicle, Roommate C, and I went salsa dancing. Roommate C had gone a few times before, and she had invited some of her male co-workers from the MTC to come. Only one did, so we were all without dance partners. But that wasn't a problem.

There were a ton of people there, and Hispanic guys are way less hesitant to ask girls to dance than white guys are. So we all got to dance with random people several times. When we weren't with a guy, we just danced around each other, seeing who could be the most scandalous and move their hips the most.

It was way fun. I even danced with a tall guy who spoke very little English. He knew Roommate C, and he was very nice. And even though we didn't really understand each other, he tried to make small talk. Eventually we gave up and just danced and laughed when we bumped into other people.

This other guy I danced with was hard-core. I was slightly wary of him at first--he looked way older than me and I had no idea if he was a creep. But he was very friendly and made casual conversation, even while we were scandalously salsa-ing. And after the song was over, he made no creepy attempts to get my number or to make me dance with him again--he just thanked me for the dance and told me to have a good night.

All of us had a lot of fun, and we excitedly came home and chatted about the night. Roommate C was especially thrilled that she had danced with someone taller than her (she's 6'1"). It was lovely and I plan on going again for sure.

PS--this would make a fantastic date. If you go before 9:30, they have a class and teach you some moves. I think it's cheaper if you go early too. Plus there's a free chocolate fountain with strawberries and stuff. Any takers?