Some good Old fashioned Fanfic

The tap-tap-tap of a typewriter. The cool summer breeze dancing along the linen drapes. The sour smell of the correction fluid. Kate looks up from the paper and surveys her small homey office. A small room filled with too many books and too few personal affects. Her children hated it here. The many hours they had to sit and wait for mommy to finish bathing a student's dissertation in red. That's probably the reason they never visited anymore. They were all gone now. Off to school or careers, married or drafted. Kate takes a bite of her scone. She's an avid baker. And jam maker. A jack-of-all-trades, but the students just call her: Turabian.

She stands, presently, pulling back the drapes and looking out onto the quad from her third story window. He's late, she thinks, But that's no surprise. She stays standing, looking outside at the trees on the lawn, swaying gently in the breeze and she remembers past summers. Summers that she would never return to. Summers she doesn't want to return to. Just like this city, she thinks, looking past the campus to the high-rises downtown. This city is what it is, not what it was. Like me. The past is known, but the present is a vast, polymorphic branching road of possibilities. I am not defined by the past, but by the decisions I make in the present. Those show who I really am.

"Excuse me, Mrs. Turabian?" comes a voice from the door, breaking her reverie. Turning, Kate sees a young man, dressed in his school browns and holding a book bag in on hand and the stitch in his side with the other.

"Ah, yes. Mr. Marshall, is it?" She asks, though there can be no doubt. She's seen him pass by many times and sometimes from the corner of her eye she sees him standing outside the partially closed door as if to knock and enter, but never bringing himself to stretch out his hand and accept the terrible eventuality that awaits him in this office.

"Yes, John Marshall, ma'am. I'm here about my dissertation."

"Of course. Sit down, Mr. Marshall. I happen to just have finished my revision." John sits. Gulps. Holds his hands in his lap. Kate moves to her desk and picks up the paper she had been working on. Glances it over. Hands it to Mr. Marshall. Hands shaking, John takes it from Mrs. Turabian. He begins to read the red. "It's a good paper, Mr. Marshall, there's no doubt about that, but your conventions are plain atrocious."

"Yes, ma'am." Quietly. Very quietly.

"You seem not to have received even the most basic lessons in punctuation and grammar. Your research and conclusions are revolutionary, I'm sure, but until you master the basics of writing, you will never be taken seriously."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Now, Mr. Marshall, I have been working on a small pamphlet for people who need help with writing dissertations. It's called A Manual for Writers and I'd like you to have the first one."

"Yes, ma'am." Barely a whisper.

Good Heavens, he's scared out of his wits.

"I'm confident that if you revise your paper according to my notes and this pamphlet that this dissertation will live up to all those grand ideas that you have in your head."

"Yes, ma'am." A little stronger.

"Thank you, Mr. Marshall, you may go now."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am." And with that, John stands up and hurries from the room, clutching his dissertation and A Manual for Writers.

That boy needs more help than I can give him, Kate thinks, turning back to her desk and picking up the top pamphlet in the stack of A Manual for Writers's first printing. But hopefully this can make up the difference. She turns again to the window just in time to see the small figure of Mr. Marshall round the bend around the library opposite and disappear. Clutching the pamphlet, she thinks, The present is a myriad of possibilities. Where will my choices take me? Where will this city take me? She loses herself in thought.

Later, She enjoys pizza Chicago Style!

Three Paragraph Essay

Oh my, the words. So many eking out of this place. I'm writing on my laptop that broke the krades. At the end of last school year, my parents came for conference (see below about chinese food). that entry was the last thing I every did on my old computer. It was the last time I ever saw my old back-pack, too. I went to conference the next day with the rents, and when I got back, those objects had been stolen away from me. Someone had walked into my house and stolen my laptop from my desktop. I was quite put off. So I got a netbook for the future use of interwebs and media consumption and possible NaNoWriMo obtainment. (Which are now coming to pass). Also, I went to Wal-Mart at the beginning of the school year for to find an new backpack. Wen I went I found ten dollar packs. I thought it a grand sign of good-will from the universe and left it at that. The face of it was a scene from mario kart. I played that a number of times this last summer and thus thought that I would flaunt the fact that I always got first in our races by having a backpack as a billboard. Recently, the face had been ripping a little and I thought it was cute. The top had almost completely torn from left to right and there was a little tare around the middle going down (But no wheat). Well, given that description, it will make the future telling of what happened more understandable. It snowed recently. I was happy because I finally got to wear all the cold clothing I love to do. When I did, at four thirty in the morning and I ran across the street to get to the other side because a really slow semi-truck was crossing University and I was scared of getting run over by it, even though it was like that one scene in Austin Powers. I don't really feel like Austin is a good British name. My bag ripped when I ran across the street in my large boots. Right down the middle. It was like all those alterpieces I learned about in Humanities 202. My backpack, that is. It now had two doors. Here is the church, here is the steeple, open the doors and all my stuff falls on the asphalt. Thanks a lot, Catholicism. So, my stuff all fell on the road and the semi-truck was barreling toward me at a good 10 miles per hour. I was panicked. I ran and picked everything up and had to go back for seconds because of the sheer amount of things that I had spread like tares upon the ground. I threw my backpack away in the nearest garbage can and just bear-hugged my books all the way to work and then bought a thirty dollar backpack at the BYU bookstore. It's mostly black, but there's some red mixed in. I opened my netbook, though and found that the screen was going crazy with cracks. So, as I write, there are a lot of places on the screen I can't see and have to hope that I spelled everything right. (<-- intro paragraph)

Now that the scene is set, time to tell my story. Today's story = Swan-san. She thinks she's all that. Swan-san is this girl in my Japanese 311R (Conversation class). She was the only girl in the class for a couple weeks because the other lady had some operation and is married. She's from somewhere in WA, so I was automatically attracted to her. She seemed kinda plain to me and her jeans and shoes would agree, but I like her haircut. Then I found out that at eight o'clock she hangs out in the film check-out room in the HFAC, which is where I work and am from 5:00 to 8:30 a.m. in the mornings. So, I started saying hi to her and sometimes asking her questions and I thought that I was making some leeway. I made her laugh a couple times when we talked and she would laugh at some of the things I said in class, so I figured she wanted me hard. A logical thing to assume, but this time these assumptions lived up to their name. Dillon was all over me once about how I need to date more and better and I was all like, fine! Maybe I will! So, I asked Swan-san to go with me to the chemistry magic show. She turned me down. She said she had to go find some boxes for some film she was working on. And she was all like "Well, maybe some other time." and I was all like "Nah, I don't like to go on dates with girls that love cardboard more than magic." Burn. Then I stormed out of the room, leaving her to think about what she just turned down. Who does she even think she is? Words untold. (<--- Body Paragraph)

I'm not a large fan of Las Vegas, I decided. So, when I'm 25, unmarried to Swan-san and wondering what to do with my life and where, I will not list Las Vegas as one of the places to do what I want. If there was a ballot that I could cast to never live in Las Vegas and the world would recognize my decision and say, "Pretty smart guy we got here." then I would, because I love recognition, so validating. Plus, it makes me miss my sunday school class I'ma supposed to teach. Although I did get a jewess to fill in for my discussion of Isaiah, I still really would've liked to be there. With the jewess. Talking about everything that Las Vegas hates, like we're kids in the middle school library trying to tick off all the other babies. Because middle-schoolers hate babies, and carrots. I only ate bagels in MIddle school and capri-suns. I wonder if they could sue me for using their trademark on my published site. I wonder a lot of things. I wish I could still eat through my belly-button. Man, those were the days. (<-- Conclusion paragraph)

Rococo

There are babies in the library. I'm also there. I haven't been in teh library for a long time, but I came because I wanted somewhere that had cushy chairs to sit in while I read Animorphs. Thank you, Dillon Fallon. You always teach me the greatest entertainment media. Unlike Upton Sinclair. I doubt Upton and I will ever see eye to eye.

I'm in the sampler section reading Animorphs on my computer, which I am now using to write this. Reading and writing: it's all I ever do anymore. Kind of. I don't really write all that much which is why I am now writing. Ellen Switzer said she read my blog, I guess to catch up on my life this past year or so, and I remembered about this and decided to write some words. I don't really have anything to say. I just saw Martin Wall for the second time in a month. The other time was just last friday night. Now you know how much we hang out. I wonder if my tick-tacking away at my keyboard is annoying the rest of the people in the sampler section. When I sat down here, there was a space of three empty chairs in a row, so I sat in the middle one to put a chair's length between me and the people on either side. Then, a couple minutes later, a girl from my Intro to Islam class last winter semester came and sat down next to me. She didn't pull anything out or start reading a book for about five minutes. I wondered what she was doing. I was going to talk to her, but then I didn't say anything in the first minute, so it'd've been weird to say something that long after she'd sat down and I'd realized who she was.

Do all seeing eye dog trainers wear tie-dye?

Finally, she pulled something out and started to read. She seemed pretty casual in her reading. Not too focused. I couldn't blame her. I was spending most of my energy on watching her subtly instead of finding out what was happening with Tobias, Rachel, and the gang. After about ten minutes of reading, she just stood up and walked away, never looking back, I know, I watched her until she went out of sight. She was Katherine. Maybe. I think that was her name. She has/had a neckless with her name written in arabic on it. Like a good luck charm. Maybe they called her Katie for short. I don't remember too much from last year. Only some things. Like the cranberry juice I bought for Jenni Boyle when I missed Dillon's golden birthday. I know exactly where it is on the shelf. If you want the same stuff I'll get it for you too.

Then I got really tired and tried to sleep for a couple of minutes. Maybe just one. Or a couple of seconds, but I decided to write on my blog first. There are a lot of books in this sampler section I wanted to read. I doubt I will, though. I doubt I'll write any, too. I wonder if my mood is affected by the music I listen to, or if I gravitate toward music that fits my mood. I wish I could step foot on the moon.

Summer Works

Hokay.

That last post was really self-absorbed and, actually, really mean. I got better. Mostly. I got friends with new people and summer wasn't too bad. I didn't do anything exciting besides go to Dillon's wedding, but I made up for it by getting new friends. I will definitely remember this summer for the people I met, not the things I did. Also, maybe Vampire Weekend. Also, MESA girl #1 (see far below).

I looked for work at the beginning of the summer. That was, after all, the reason I came home. I came home to work and save money for teh futures and stuff. Because home is really easier than rent. Also, secret purposes and motivations. Which are mostly I had a big crush on MESA girl #1 and wanted to see if anything would happen when she came home from her mish. I really didn't expect a dang thing. The contingency plan I never really believed would work.

So I was viewing around the town looking for work. And by that I mean I would get up and look at Cragslist every day hoping something good would catch my eye and give me money. It happened once. I asked for an interview at a new Jimmy John's Sandwhiches place in Portland and John said it was okay. So, I went to the Safeway Grocers I thought we were having the interview at and parked and called John. He said he couldn't see me and I said similar. Finally he communicated to me that I was at the wrong Safeway and should really try and find the real one before he was done for the day and left. I finally did in the pouring rain. Lucky for me, the store had some covered parking, so I parked there and stayed dry the whole time. Lucky for me.

I walked in half and hour late and sat and waited for him to be done with the guy he was talking to concurrently. I knew it was him because he had a Jimmy John's Sandwhiches hat and shirt on. I walked over and introduced myself. He gave me paper work and said some words about doing work. I said it sounded nice. He gave me a list of the sandwhiches and told me to memorize them and that we would have a test and training the next week.

I spent all weekend/the hour before preparing for the test. I made charts and graphs that finally made it clear. I shown up and he gave us all the test, so I sat down and wrote all the things exactly as I studied. I forgot one thing, though, on one sandwhich, but, certainly, that wouldn't hurt my chances of getting the job, right? Me neither. The lady I was sharing a table with was not prepared. She kept sneaking glances at the cheat sheet she had in her handbag. I felt that was professional dishonesty, but thought I'd let Karma teach her some lessons before I interventioned. I was the first done, like most tests, and gave it to John. He congratulated me on my hiring as a minimum wage (8.20/hr) sandwich technician. I told him thanks. He told me to come to training next week at noon on some day. I said okay. It think the next training was a Wednesday for you Chrono Trigger buffs out there.

While this was all going on my mom was saying words at me. Like, But it's farr away and we don't have carrs for all the three kids, even though only two drive, also its minimum wage and they khan't guarantee full-time hours, and such things. So I had kept looking for more work. Again, through the wonders of teh internets, I got a guy to call me for a phone interview about a gaming tech support call center job. I thought that'd be fun. I'm smart enough, after all, to talk about networks and legitimate things. He called and we talked, but when he found out that I was only home and in the area for the next couple months, he went all Nixon on me and pulled out the troops. I hung up the phone with the taste of Colored-Only Drinking Fountain water in my mouth, to use the parlance of our times. So my mom was really pressuring me not to get this job. So, I decided not to do it. I went early to my next training and was all like, thanks for life, John, but I already got a better paying and closer to home job than this one. But good luck with the store, hokay? He actually looked surprised and sad. I think he's too young to be cold enough to take it all in stride. Also, after the last training I talked to this one girl that went to sunset because I had worn my Southridge track shirt. She was a year older than me, but she seemed nice. Then I never saw her again. Also, I boldfacedly lied to John about the better job.

But then, I didn't. The very next day I was pounding the pavement building some employment opportunities when I got a call from a temp agency telling me they had a position if I wanted it. I said I did and they said they had two I could choose from. I told them I wanted the boy's toy with my happy meal. She ignored that and said I could be a data entryist or a claims operationer. The second one paid more, so I said sign me up, but she asked me if I felt I was a detail-oriented, honest person with good judgement. I, using some professional honesty, said yes, I feel exactly how you described this job must be perfect for me. So I had to go in and fill out some paperwork and she turned out to be Mormon, so that was funny, but she was moving away, so we would never see each other again. Summers are full of never agains. The place I was going to work at was called Epiq and I would be made to do things, so I said okay.

The first day was supposed to be Tuesday, but they called and said one of the training ladies was sick and that we would start on Wednesday. I went in my best suit to give a good impression, but it turned out that their dress code was really casual: jeans okay. I felt a little overdressed even though it was raining outside. They said the job would last 6-8 weeks if we were good at it. I thought that was perfect because that would end right before Dillon's wedding, so I just needed to make sure I was good enough to make it two months, though I never thought I'd actually be kept on that long. Seeing as how they let go half the people in the first week. The work was easy enough, though I had a lot of questions because I wanted to know exactly what to do. It was just looking at claim forms and deciding whether they were complete or not and if not complete, how so. I asked my supervisor a lot of questions and I thought I was being really annoying, but I did it anyways. Better to build a skyscraper than blow up the grand canyon. About a month into the job, most of the people were gone. It was down to six of us from the original group. Then they got a new group that they let go after a week or two. Then it was the six of us again. Then five. Then four. Then I went on vacation to Dillon's wedding and I asked if they wanted me to come back or whether they would just let me go. They said they'd call me if I was let go. They didn't. I went back to work for three weeks after Dillon's wedding. As things worked out, I was actually the one that terminated my employment. They all said I should come back during the holidays for a week or two. I said thanks. I don't really plan on it. I guess I was good at it, but I want to do a job that I don't turn my mind off for. Stupor. Also, my right eye started to twitch. And my wrists hurt. Hopefully this job didn't ruin computers for me. Although, I did type this all out on a computer. I guess I'm fine, then.

There were funny people at work. The girl that read a new fantasy/star trek book everyday in the break room. The lady in her 50s that muttered to herself as she put-putted away on the computer. The short asian guy that always wore a dress shirt and suit vest. The huge upright bass player who was majoring in graphic design. The U of O graduate. The HR lady that looked and dressed exactly like Catherine Zeta Jones. The large 22-year-old Indian girl that owned the warehouse. Yes, sir. It truly was Epiq. Now I'm done with work for a couple weeks until I start custodianing at the HVAC. I'm a little more excited for that job than this one. I'll at least get to stand up and move.

This summer was good. A fun break from school. I won't remember anything I did, I'm sure, but I'll remember the people I met. Because we're either new facebook friends, or because I put them in the paragraph above. That's pretty much it.

This Dream Is Exclusive

Though out of no fault nor vanity on my part. Yesterday at church, Shellie Baird, the girl down the street asked if I missed Provo. To that I responded "No." Then about twenty minutes into sacrament meeting, I realized I was a filthy liar, unashamed and untouched by social desirability. Because as I sat there in the chapel sitting amidst these people, I decided that they were sucking the hope out of me. I started seeing visions of myself in five years in that same building getting up to bear my testimony and thanking everyone in the ward for being such a support. I almost threw up. I actually had to excuse myself to the bathroom before the dry-heaving stopped. When, I felt myself again I went back into the chapel and sat down again.

Every time someone opened their mouth, I was given another reason to feel like I wouldn't fit in. In Provo, its really easy to find people that you can relate to and share a sense of humor with. The Beaverton/Cedar-Mills singles ward is not a place of that same persuasion. I really couldn't see myself hanging out with anyone in the group. Even at the break the fast, where I actually got to meet some people and get past the first impression, I found out that sometimes the first impressions are true.

Also, during Sunday school, I accidentally said something funny loud. I was really trying to keep myself behind my glasses (@even stock) but it was hard with whatever comment I wanted to make. So, I said something like I normally do in classes or church and everyone just looked at me like "Yeah?" I felt really lame. It should've at least gotten a few chuckles.

Plus, everyone is about 26, so that does not increase Pearson's R-squared at all. Substantive significance is doubtful.

Oh, the title. Yeah. Since I've been home, its been like a dream. A really uninteresting one because my mind is just taking me back to the places that I know the most. A dream where you're sleeping is really boring. This summer might just be a dream. Also, I'll try to meet people/make friends, but, really, what's the use? Then I recall the Singles ward. I better get married before Graduation, dillon, if not, I'm jacked.

Teh new kicks

Chinese food makes me reckless.

My parents are in town for conference weekend. So, I cleared (kept cleared/did nothing out of the ordinary) the weekend of any plans to spend it with them. They got in last night and today we went out to lunch at Kneader's and then saw how to train your dragon at Xango. We thought we were in time for the 3D showing, but we were, in fact, late. So we went to the regular-sauce showing. It was still cool like yeah, though. After that, my mom axed if I needed new shoes. I had accidentally let slip that I had holes in my pair now and my feet kept getting wet and my socks kept getting holes, though I didn't know why. She didn't buy it. She knew I knew it was because of the hole in the bottom and the rough concrete. If I had only been walking in a bed of roses, or thrown into the ocean in the worst of weather... So we headed to University Mall. We arrived there, too.

Inside, we went first to the bathroom. At the movie theatre I went to the bathroom and I was about to remark to my dad about how it seems everytime I go to a movie, I use the bathroom. Then I remembered that movies are quite the time commitment. Things started to make sense, so I didn't bring it up. But I did bring up that I had to use the bathroom again. So, we found one. I had to use a toilet, so I first wiped the seat off and then got out the seat cover. I was busy tearing the middle part free from the outsides when the automatic toilet flushed. No problem. When the toilet was done doing its business, I put down the seat cover and turned around to sit down. Then it automatically flushed again, taking the cover with it. Krade. So, I had to stand very awkwardly to make sure the toilet didn't flush prematurely... it didn't work. But this time I sat down before it could pull all of the cover in after it and I kept it in place. Success.

Then we went to some shoe place to look at shoes. I wondered what kind of shoes I would get. I forgot that when you bought new shoes they didn't just give you a fixed up pair of your old ones, but that you had to choose a completely new pair. This was a very disconcerting realization. I realized that "If you love somebody, you have to learn to say goodbye." That is a line from the song I'm listening to. So, I got some chucks. The high-tops would be too much a hassle if I ever wanted to take them off, so I decided to go with the low tops. Now I have teh new kicks.

So, with my clear evening, I figured me and my folks would play yahtzee and halo all night, but I was disappointed to find that they had a dinner party to go to with their old friends that had all moved down to Utah. Well, that's just great. My parents come all the way down to Utah to see me and then they go off and have a party with their friends and leave me at home. Just like all my other friends. My mom said "Well, you could come along..." I told her I didn't want to be the four hundred and first wheel for the second time in a week. So, they dropped me off at home.

I was kinda hungry because we hadn't got anything because they were going to dinner without me. So, there I was, alone, bored, hungry, and unsatisfied on a friday night. Business as usual. I finished Ranger's Apprentice numba four and wondered what to do after that; it was only 7:30. I was on gchat, so I asked the only other person on (Jenni Boyle) what I should do. She said "read a book, master fusha, or call arabic james". That didn't really open up any options to me. I just finished a book and Arabic James' family was in town, so I couldn't hang out with him. I texted Mikail Severkovich, but he was with his family, too. It seemed like everyone else's family knew what to do on a friday night in provo besides mine. Also, Pres. Traveler isn't back yet, so no mission reunion, something everyone else was going to. Alone and extremely left out, there was only one thing to do: break in teh new kicks.

I laced my chucks, I walked the aisle, a baby cried, too, I think. In-flight radio. I got out on my porch and looked around for direction. I knew that "Kabob Connection" was on at the international cinema at 8:45, but I didn't want to go on a friday night alone, so... I didn't. I decided to go to smiths. So, I walked outside and it was cold with some snow falling. Really small snow. May just tiny pieces of ice, really. It wasn't sticking. But it was cold, nonetheless, so I zipped up my jacket and pulled it tighter around me. I really hoped that I looked cool, or at least that I looked like a man to be pitied. I crossed University ave and was on my way to smiths when I realized that I should just go to Lon's smoke shack. I walked in, but nothing looked good, so I decided to go to the chinese buffet just down the road. I heard a sound that sounded suspiciously like my name on the wind coming from behind me, but I didn't want to look. Cool people don't turn when they are called. They turn when they want to. Then it came clearer and someone yelled "Scott Ogden!" I started to want to turn, independently of the yelling, and saw someone in the back seat of a car at the light that recently turned green. They shouted something to me and I shouted back "WHAT?" But they just waved and closed the door because the car had to move because the light was green. Then they sped off, up university and out of my list of possible things to do tonight. Even though it was sitting very firmly at the top.

I went into the chinese place and was going to ask for the take-out menu, but seeing that it was only 6:50 for the buffet, made a split-second decision and said I wanted the buffet. That really confused the lady because she had seen the "I just want the take-out menu, please" look flash across my face. I smiled at her surprise. She seated me at a booth with two places set. "Will this do?" she asked. I said yes, but just sat and looked at the second place-setting for a little bit. Just another friday night.

The first plate I filled with fried-rice, orange chicken, lo men, and some potstickers. I returned to my booth to find two people that had come in just after me seated there. Realizing I'd been replaced with a real couple, I sat in the booth next to them. I cleaned the plate quickly, hoping that eating faster would pass the time faster. Then I realized that eating out normally takes more time because you sit and talk with the people you came with. I was full, but I got another plate. This time, I went for sweet and sour chicken, though it seemed a bit bitter tonight. I had finished that plate, but still hadn't been there for even ten minutes, so I went for one last plate, even though my stomach was bursting. I decided to have some dessert and got some chocolate and vanilla pudding. I sat and ate it, but noticed that the chocolate pudding was warm, while the vanilla was cooler. I didn't want to eat the chocolate, but had to because I wanted my money's worth. Finally, when I felt I had eaten $10 worth, I went to the counter to pay. "Just one buffet?" she asked. I assured her she had not misheard. With the tip, I paid a total of 8 dollars.

I walked home. The wind was colder now, for some reason, so I zipped up all the way and got lost in my thoughts. As I walked by the library I wondered what my parents were doing. I wondered how my mom would cry if I was killed on the way home. I didn't want her to cry, so I tried to be more alert. Then I saw a car idling in the parking lot of the library. I thought about just jumping in and taking it. Going somewhere. Then a head popped up in the driver's seat, done searching for whatever had fallen on the ground and I gave up all such notions. I was stuffed, cold, and starting to think that the chinese food was laced with loneliness, so I was becoming reckless. Dreaming of things I shouldn't and having nightmares of all the rest. Suddenly, I looked up and was surprised to see Liberty square. I hadn't remembered walking all the way back. I thought I still had a couple blocks to go. I looked at my watch and saw that it was still only 9:20. Too early to sleep. So, I went to the bathroom and stripped to my skivies. Now I sit her in just my newly washed garments and my chucks. Breaking them in. This is my life guys. I know you didn't sign up for it, but this is all you get, so get used to it. You might be teh new kicks, but these are just the same old digs.

Why am I not a mathmatician?

So, Last week. I was in the library. It was Friday morning right after the Arabic speaking midterm. It weren't all that bad. But, it was soon approaching the time when I would have to go to Political Science lab. Nothing really exciting ever happens there. So this post will not comment on that time period of the day. We will hang out just a couple hours before that when I was doing my practice assignment for said lab.
In poly sci right now we've finally started statistics. And we've finally begun to use spss, a computer program that's all about stats. I love both things. Stats and computer programs. I used to have grand dreams of becoming either. Little did I know that my high school sophomore year of statistics (six years ago) would come in handy now-a-days. We're going over it a lot simpler than we did in hike school. But life is tougher now, so my high school days are thumbing their nose at me for that. Me, Cory Newton, and Sunil Garg. We were the three sophomores in stats that year. Back when I hated Cory for being as smart as me. I didn't hate Sunil because I always expected him to be smarter. First off, he was indian. Second off, James dalton always talked about how he was a genius and won some spelling competition or trivia quiz in elementary school. Back at the coug mtn. I only went there for three months, if that.
So, I was in the library doing my two throw-back old-timey favourite things (stats on a computer) when I got an e-mail from a girl in the class. You know, one of those blackboard-wide e-mails that you get all the time and don't really like, but kan't do anything about because you have to be registered in the class. Yeah, one of those. And she was all like: "Help me the krade! I Khan't dew thais!" And I decided to help her out a little. Do my good turn for the day, (I actually had my "do a good turn daily" coin in my back pocket at the time). So, I started pounding out a good reply that would explain all of the stuff to her in as simple as words do allow. Then Arabic James walked up from being away from me and I said salutations, dear friend! And he responded in kind.
Then I glanced at the table just a couple feets away and saw none other than Meg sitting at the table (see the last post for an interesting anecdote on Meg). And as luck would have it, it was Meg who sent the e-mail! So, I was all like "Yo, Meg!" and she turned around and I was like You still need help with the assignment? And she was noddin her head like "yeah". So, I took her over to a computer and sat her down and told her how to do it. She was trying to do it in Excel. Big mistake, N00b. That's whatcha get. So, I explained it to her and she was gettin it real good and I said goodbye and she said thanks. And I was all like "any time, guurl." But it was mostly just in my head I said that last part. But you know what I mean. I love stats. No, I really do.

A Quick Anecdote

I had a real fun couple minutes this morning. They went like this: First, I got out of Arabic and Arabic James and I were talking about something. I think we were talking about how he went to Dr. Doug's class yesterday instead of our class. Then Arabic Jenni showed up and walked beside us and started saying something to which Arabic James responded, but then we saw Rachel Manning and They went crazy (Arabic James and Rachel Manning). They ran to each other and hugged and acted as if it;d been forever since they;d seen each other. Then Arabic Jenni was all like "Why didn't YOU greet her like that?" and I was like "I didn't date one of her roommates all last semester." I had stopped and Arabic Jenni kept on walking, so I three small lengths of thread attached to me: One from me to Arabic Jenni, one to Arabic James and Rachel Manning, and one to the Library. I don't like people, so I went to the Library, but then a wonderful idea came to me: if I went home and showered and did my Book of Mormon reading now, I would have all the time after Poly Sci to do my revision project. Plus I could get more supplies. I decided to do that. This is where the fun starts.

I was walking from the Library to the JFSB square and snow was lightly drifting down, almost imperceptibly. I was walking by some one and I heard him say to his friend in a slightly aggravated tone: "Dude, I'm pretty sure God does NOT have dandruff..." Then they were out of earshot. I laughed because of his seriousness and decided to update my Fbook status, so I pulled out my phone and started texting. Arabic James was still talking to Rachel Manning, but Arabic Jenni had already jumped ship into the JFSB, presumably on her way to the HRLC. I walked through the square trying to text with my gloves on, so it took a little bit of time and I was approaching the planters on the other side when I started worrying about running into people. I remembered someone talking about how annoying it was when people were texting and not watching where they were walking. I almost felt guilty, but remembered that walking-speed collisions don't hurt that much and sometimes even lead to marriage. No problem. I kept on texting. Then some one said "Hey, watch where you're going!" I looked up and it was Arabic Alex. "Fine!" I said, "I'll just sit her and finish the text." So, I sat down and finished the text.

As I was pushing the send button, I heard two voices saw "Scott!" I looked up and had already starting walking with them before I realized it was Steph Tardiff and Scott Haynie. "Hey, kids." I said. Then Steph said, "Where are you going." "Home," I said. "You're walking in the wrong way," she said. "I know," I said. "Do you have an 8-o'clock class?" she asked. "Yeah." I said. "And you have a break right now?" she asked. We were in the middle of the JFSB square by now and I said, "Yeah, My next class is at 11..." I said just as a girl from my 11-o'clock class walked by in front of us, "with that girl." I pointed at her, which was okay because she wasn't facing me. Then I said slightly quieter, "Hi, Meg." that's her name. Then Meg waved her hand, without even looking back. Ha! And here I was, thinking she hadn't heard what I said or even recognized me. Boy, was I wrong. She sure got me there.

Barry McFly?

So, the other day, I was at work. Also, it was Tuesday. I had just run there from that one class, MESA 201. There's a Jewish lady in that class. I don't know if she really is or not. Arabic Jenni said she was a Jewess from Israel, but then I talked to her once and we shared a paper to take a quiz on. When I talked to her, she said that she was from LA. So, I'm faced with a decision: do I believe the Arabic Jenni, or the lady herself. Also, she's not old. She's young. Also, she's in Hebrew 4-something-something. I wish I were there. She also knows some Arabic, and I don't know her major. Probably MESA, because she's in the MESA class and didn't raise her hand when it was asked for those who are not MESA majors to raise their hands. I wonder what year she is...

So, I went to work. And when I got there, I saw Barry. I like Barry. He's a freshman from somewhere up in Washington. He always wears a hat that has a 'B' on it, so it was really easy to learn his name. When I saw him, for some reason, a question immediately came to my mind: Did he time travel over the weekend? I mean, it was a three-day weekend... A lot could happen. For some reason, it just looked like he got a little older and wiser, more experienced since I had seen him last, the Thursday before. There are all sorts of movies about people having great adventures and stuff in short times, weekends and the like, but because I was thinking about a time-travel adventure, time is really not an issue. I could have a time-travel adventure in the one single moment our time, but I might experience YEARS during the endeavor. So, if I look suddenly reeealalllyyy old... you'll know what's up. But, in order to find out if Barry had gone on any wonderful ventures, I decided to resort to stratagem. I had to trip him up somehow. Catch him in his words. So, I went up to him and asked him: "Hey, Barry, how was your weekend?" Crossed my fingers. "It was good," He said. "Yeah? Do anything fun or exciting?" "Well, I went to a dance on Friday... with Helaman and DT and Heritage and Wyview..." HA! I had him. On two accounts. First: he mentioned a dance. Time travelers always go to dances. Marty McFly, Bill and Ted, Bill Murray. Dead giveaway that the person had been on a wild time adventure over the weekend. Secondly: He said that DT was at the triple dance. DT is DEAD! There is no longer any DT and thus no one from there to go to a dance. He must've gone somewhere back in time to go to a dance that was once had, but was not over this weekend. Some time between when Wyview was built and DT destroyed. But, Wyview is pretty recent. They were first built in 1996, but we only family student housing. It wasn't until 2003 that they became single student housing facilities, too. And The last people to live in DT were in 2006-07 year. So really, Barry had a really crappy time travel experience, he only went, at most, seven years in the past. I mean, if you're going to travel back in time, at least go somewhere cool. Seven years ago I was 15. Just a freshman in high school. Really not the most exciting time of my life. My jealousy of Barry has now turned into sympathy. He's prolly really sad that he only went back in time a couple years. Didn't even break the decade. Poor kid. He is the first time traveler I know and, for all I know, the effects of his journey won't be felt for hundreds of years down the line. A waste of a time trip, if you ask me.

I wonder what other adventures people have that I never find out about. Now that I found out about one of them, I'm sure there are more of them going on. Maybe someday I'll not only find out about one of them, but maybe I'll be able to join one. A boy can sure dream.