Remember how I'm taking Physical Science 100 my LAST undergraduate term?

Yeah. But my professor is the definition of radical... "I don't get paid enough to do this, but..."


I was rolling on the floor for the next hour.

Then it's all I could talk about at coffee with Telly and Kyle. (That and bonding over how Bethenny Frankel is hilarious about "losing her attitude" on her show and Twitter.)

Then later with Jax I am told that I'm "such a little crackhead" for still being obsessed.

What can I say? I'm scared of science, but I guess it is tolerable when said professor makes huge attempts to keep our attention.

Did I mention it was a 100 level class and I out-age the median age by 3 years at least? Raise the roof.

How to clean a white Mac computer

So guys, my friend Emily (we called her E Diddy back in the day when we made a rap music video. I was Ludalex, don't worry.) shared some VALUABLE information on her blog and I am going to re-share here because this issue has bothered me since I got my white MacBook three years ago and Apple Store was clueless on how to clean or maybe their cleaner was expensive or whatever.

Behold, the products of champions, found at Target:

For the white keyboard, screen frame, mousepad, etc,
Mr. Clean Magic Eraser 2-in-1 DUO

For the screen, Windex Original wipes

I just cleaned mine and am GIDDY with glee.

You will thank me later!

The funniest Bieber'ed thing ever

My cousin Bieber'ed her little boy's hair today.



LOOK AT THAT SWISH!

AND THE FACE!

Apparently, he is also natural with the dance moves. Wow. Hilarious.

The best dad in the world. Cue eye roll.

But seriously, I'm ridiculously grateful for my dad. Henry. I'm so glad I came along as part of his West Coast life. He is an endless source of insight, entertainment, not to mention HILARITY.

I like that he retains his East Coast prep schooling, at St Albans School for Boys, which still manifests itself as always wearing a tucked-in collared shirt, and in his pockets fancy handkerchiefs ready for a stifling a sacrament meeting sneeze. As I recall, I think he would even whip them out of athletic pants at our sports games if needed.

I admire his tolerance for all people, however they live. He is non-judgmental, extremely humble, and gently hopeful and sympathetic towards anyone in every situation.

He is un-phased of what anyone else thinks of him. He's taught me that all that matters is what God thinks of you, and how you think of yourself.

He loves and respects my mom.

I love that he hates politics.

He wants to move to New Zealand to chill out with nice people in good weather for the rest of his life ... "but mom would miss her friends too much." California already fulfills his necessities pretty well ;).

I love that he has made fruit smoothies EVERY morning ever since I can remember. Literally, no morning is complete without blender cacophony. My sisters and I were brats and went through Jamba Juice phases in defiance, but truly, I miss the homemade version whenever I'm away. Yes, dad, yours are leaps and bounds above Jamba standard.

He is a real estate genius- the most important lesson learned, that has been repeated so many times : "Location, Location, Location. You can always CHANGE a house, but you can't change WHERE the house is." As a result, I'm more neighborhood and transportation-access aware. THANK YOU.

I inherited his 'built-in Global Positioning System.' I have an unbeatable sense of direction, which carries into other personality traits of time management and promptness. THANK YOU.

He is also a PLANNER. And so am I. We both do extensive research before making decisions. This has served both of us well. THANK YOU.

He is extremely sarcastic. College was the first time I realized that some people can't handle or understand sarcasm very well. Or some disrespectfully dish it out for show, or to be mean. But my dad taught me how to both dish AND take well. At least I think. I have probably blundered many times, but hopefully nothing was too harsh when it wasn't deserved.

He is the anti-chauvinist to the point of being sexist against men. Maybe it's the result of three daughters, but he quickly and often admits that women would be better suited to organize, plan and run the world.

He Tivos the show Reba. I thought it was mildly cute and entertaining in middle school, but I guess, it's NOW the greatest show ever, after Seinfeld, Frasier, and Project Runway (another CAN'T MISS show for his inner architect self).

He's my favorite person to watch sports with, because we have constant running commentary that we can respond to while still having our eyes fixed on play. When I was about 12, he said I was going to be a great girlfriend one day because I love watching sports so much. But back then, I was kind of an ESPN nerd. I've explored other areas. Still, too funny.

He has taught me that men have feelings, even though most have a hard time expressing them articulately.

He is supremely supportive of all my ambition, career ideas, ideas in general, wanderlust, and is regularly excited for me about all of the above.

He's taught me to work hard, but more importantly, work smart.

I'm not really a "kid" person, and neither is my dad. ("They're a MESS!"/"They put their fingerprints on the windows!"/"They put their feet on the furniture!"). I'm not too worried- my selfless maternal instincts will kick in one day, but for now, we both LOVE my niece and nephew.



Happy Fathers' Day Henry!

I need to be physically triumphant again

That radical power you feel when you stare at rock faces like this and say "Bring it" is missing in my life.



At the time, I wasn't completely smitten with my New Zealand-acquired biking/hiking/climbing quads.

Now, their absence is making my heart grow fonder.


My knees won't allow for marathons. Or maybe I need a running lesson.

Bikram yoga? I've missed you. Om. We shall meet again.


Moab/Mt. Timp/Zion? YES. Anyone?

And uh, I haven't even hiked the Y yet. Maybe I'll do that on commencement day, just to be ironic.


I think my solution is the OUTDOORS.


Also, Chantelle (one of my favorite little bears) wrote this little ditty which shows 8th century Celtic literature meeting the Sugarhouse scene, and I like it a lot.

xo

In case we forgot.

I remember having my friend take this on the Otago Peninsula in Dunedin. (I was sick of taking pictures haha).
Then she edited it all artistically.
I oddly ended up driving the peninsula about 3-4 times while I was there. So beautiful.


Also, Celtics 3-2... but yeah, it's going to be hard to pull it out at the Staples Center.

Like when you find out the guy's a bad kisser.

So I doubt anyone that reads my blog is into sports. Bad self-promoting premise to start out, but regardless.

If this makes sense, I'm actually rooting for the Celtics.

The Game 2 Ray Allen show was delightful, but tonight was PAINFUL.

I haven't been this irate about a game in a while.

How about screening? How about hustle? How about PASSING?
Don't even get me started on free throw percentage (lack thereof).

Why is the shortest Celtic (with the best name in the NBA after Chauncey Billups), Rajon Rondo, the only one that seems to rebound?

I have no idea why I just blogged this. This is like a NCMO you didn't really want to have, but came through just because he was trying hard.
NIGHT.

Remember when I lived with millions of sheep?

One time we were driving to Queenstown (what I dubbed "Park City on steroids") and 10,000 sheep were crossing the road, with sheep dogs and farmer corralling.

It was cool.

I found another of the cute little guys!

All pictures taken by people in my study abroad group!

Reinterpretation

Basically, I'm getting a kick out of seeing my past New Zealand life reinterpret itself in my present.

Exhibit A: I still like to dress up, but the thrill of scaling a wall to break into an apartment (after a friend forgets the keys inside) is currently the more exciting situational variable.



Exhibit B: I had a hankering to 'camp' despite a couch and futon offer. WEIRD, I know. I think I just wanted to sleep in the largest room, the one with the most air. Regardless... here's what 'setting up camp' entailed.

Thanks to brother for busting out a camping light when I was in brushing my teeth. A hilarious touch that I knew shouldn't go undocumented.