A little redundant?

I was at the drugstore today for some contact solution, and as I looked up at the aisle title boards, I noticed there was one line that read "Personal Care Items."

Is it not already assumed that one visits a drugstore for such items? That's what I thought.

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!

A crossroads or a personality assassination?

(Yes, the title reflects John Mayer's newest album. I miss the old, non-A-list dating, non impromptu press conference outside his gym, non-unflattering-interviewing-so-much-his-publicist-needs-to-be-fired John).

So it's kind of embarrassing how much magazines used to excite me, mostly for their welcomed purpose of mind-numbing after a week (or few hours) of study and the escape of print media that quite literally decided my collegiate studies.

I used to joke that I should fake credentials a la Catch Me If You Can style to become an astrologist for Cosmo.
I recalled this career option with a chuckle skimming a horoscope today (on the beach- does that make it ok?) and reading something about being "empowered to make a Facebook change around the 11th." Oy. Seriously?

But lately, magazines bore me. Just ordinary. This is even after a 3 month sabbatical. The clarity (thank you again, John) is just so bright now.

Why does glitz not excite me as much anymore? Maybe realizing I am now at a crossroads of personality, what with not fretting over a long curbside wait yesterday or riding in the backs of pickup trucks with 5-minute-ago strangers (cute ones, I may add. Which makes it ok, right?).

Perhaps it's just maturity, perhaps this is just a hallmark funk of island living. The latter would warrant a huge mental change.
Wait, no it wouldn't...if I come back to reality I realize it's just really late and I'm spiraling into equal parts drama and genius - a pair quite well-acquainted.

Post-Edit:
This was posted in one of those moments, perhaps fleeting. I still do love glitz and glam.

I know I'm homesick when...

I have the burning desire to cut my hair Peter Pan short.


No pun intended, actually (and you all know how I love intending puns!).

I remember wanting to do this around this time two years ago in Spain.

Que extrano!!!

The GAGA stars aligned today...

Check out GAGA Dollars.

And this new Miranda video...not my favorite, but a noble effort. I would like the 'Haters' shirt.


Neverland is spectacular as always. I'm very lucky.

Cheers!
xo

A-pathetic

Is how I've been feeling lately.

Midterm after paper after midterm after pesky quiz after another paper, etc.
Piercing windy cold.
Utah.
Waking up too uninspired to put on anything more than sweats.
Swallowing grainy horse pill vitamins to ward off H1N1.
Not applying a stitch of makeup for the week's majority.
Succumbing to the slippery slope of Ugg boots. (Rainbow sandals, I'll see you in a few...)

Does a-pathetic mean not pathetic, then?
Ooh, goody, I feel better already: there IS an empowering aspect of boredom!


On Tuesday, I started sobbing halfway through Greg Mortenson's forum address here at BYU (maybe the first time I've cried this whole year). It was brilliant, inspiring, humbling, hopeful, emancipating, and also real...I had been looking forward to it for several weeks, and will link it on here as soon as it is available online.


Regardless, I really think it's okay to wallow sometimes. A huge part of who I am is an isolated cavewoman. I LOVE alone time as much as I love social time, and I think my parents are reincarnated cavepeople: they need silence and stillness to recharge their batteries. Holing up in our rooms for hours to read, write and think in quiet sans TV or computer was a huge part of how I grew up.

I love my inner cavewoman. (But never fear, the next day I know I'll need to get out and run around to relax my brain from thinking!)

This song is one of my wallowing anthems, I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

Kerouac-ian

1) Google Reader: I was stubborn enough to think that another Google creation would not be user friendly enough for me, and was comfortable with mastering the system of clicking on blogs as they updated on my home screen.
Old. School. I know.

But now, as you will see, I have de-cluttered my layout, condensed my link lists and started "following" more than linking. And it's awesome. You can leave Reader open in a tab and it updates like Gmail. Plus, you can "follow" other blogs besides those in the Blogger format and avert all the arthritic-inducing clicking. Win-win. Go Google.

My next project will be AdSense...still a little apathetic-slash-lazy to figure it out.

2) Finished Me Talk Pretty One Day.

From a writer's standpoint, it's a must-read for all the sharp interwoven details. But don't be expecting to be keeling over in "sidesplitting" laughter as all the reviews would have you think. I think my favorite part was Sedaris's commentary on the games he made up to learn French masculine/feminine words (Hey guys [talking to spoons in the drawer]! Well the lady of the night has arrived [about jam in the refrigerator]!).

2a) You know who IS funny? Dooce. But we already knew that (been reading her for, like, 5 years).

3) I said the phrase "stream of consciousness" in a sentence to some cousins who dropped by for a night and one laughed loudly and said, "Did you know Jack Kerouac's "On The Road" was originally published without punctuation because it was precisely that, a 'stream of consciousness.'"

Well, folks...cheah! precisely. Hence the new post label of 'Kerouac.' Hope you like it.

Remember when...

My sister accidentally ran a red light in Boston yesterday and a pasty white, four-eyed, wannabe machismo with a gut and receding hairline got out of his car and legitimately chewed her out at the next light. You know, because his elongated horn sounding was not enough. The shock factor of it all was surprisingly ephemeral...we laughed for the next hour.


I thought I got prank called the other night about my blue suit but it was really a Chinese lady from the website where I ordered it checking on the shipment. It became quite obvious that it was legit when, after gleefully screaming back at her ("Who is this?! Haha!!"), she repeated her shtick without a slip of any telling sign of English tonality or giggles in the background. I profusely thanked her, then laughed at my suspicious self (Friends...please prank call me? Just like I seriously, truly adore waking up at home to a toilet papered yard, I love it when I can call you out on my fake pizza order. Thanks!!!)


Rachel and I drove through the woods listening to K-Ci and JoJo blaring. And I did the same with one of my sisters today and, while she did get into it...she just. did not. understand.


I deactivated my Facebook. I simply question its relevancy. Most of this, I'm realizing, will be a great litmus test for the people who are truly most currently important in my life: it's too weird having a girl I used to babysit (and her mom), my past crushes, and my best of friends on the same playing field. My nearest and dearest will know how to get a hold of me, or be more resourceful (is that selfish? I suppose I run that risk.).
The kicker?
A friend request from my dear dear uncle (more like 2nd cousin once removed)'s awful ex-wife, as well as the feeling of knowing I don't want to be defined by a "like" of a status update, a comment on a photo, or an invitation to join the now-annoyingly-ubiquitous groups for wedding announcement address sending. I certainly don't look down on those who still have accounts: I simply claim ownership of what works for me, and now, I'm moving on.
If I need to get in contact with someone desperately, perhaps I'll reactivate for a second to message them with my information. Compromise? Yes.
Capiche.


I pushed the 70s in number of "Me Talk Pretty One Day" pages and still waiting for the "Memoirs of a Gay Childhood-meets-Lewis Carroll Psychedelia" novelty to wear off.
Just so harrrd because I was laughing out loud at Sloane from page 1!


Mark Ronson remixed Amy Winehouse...the twist-n-shout greatness commences at 0:52...

Twelve twenty-three P.M.

is when I woke up, summoned to breakfast and boating...

Yes, I am enjoying vacation.

(And no, I still haven't adjusted to Eastern Standard Time.)

It's late, and I ache

I have had chronic headaches my entire life.
Right now I have a migraine the size of RUSSIA. Or maybe the pre-20th century Ottoman Empire... One that feels like it is going to overtake the folds above my right eye and explode into a screaming Quasimodo-like tumor.

Bay Area traffic this weekend gave me headaches. Perhaps the heat as well.
Driving home from the wedding Sunday night, both of these factors caused my brother to strip down to his bathing suit, make up silly songs and an elementary "would I rather" game of choosing the superpower of a) laser beams or b) flying to pass over/through the cars.

This from the man who, with his wife, lived in West Hollywood for a year.

(He would kill me if he read this!)

I think there will be a new phenomenon concerning late-night blogging. As in the morning after, you will suffer embarrassment due to a blog post made at random the night before. So then, what will be the cure for a blogging hangover?
(this is why Texts from last night are so funny! disclaimer: don't read if you are sensitive!)

If only there were solutions as easy as "Delete Post" for other things in life.

Spock, SocioPATH, & Streusel

NYT's Maureen Dowd on Obama as Spock.

Don't worry, I don't like Sci-Fi either.
My sister does, though.
But she's probably too busy knitting, off-season training or having dorm parties to see that movie anyway.
Oh well.

(haha!)

Oh, sociopaths...you never cease to dirty our planet with your filth.

(via Overheard in New York)

Oh I made this BOMB Apple Crumb Cake with my roomie last night. TRY IT.
We used 2.5 times the amount of apples called for (5 total, unpeeled), and spaced on putting the crumble topping on so we just dumped the rest of the diced apples we had on top.
Then we had a legit ghost storytelling session. Amazing.

Newsbits

A crazy sad (yet brilliantly designed) CO2 emissions interactive world map.

The computer font 'Comic Sans' is now deemed by WSJ as overused!

Video: quite possibly the best ever volleyball kick assist (Stanford Men's VB- my cousin's former team) - (how was that set, Amy?!)

Video: You thought pedaling was all there was to riding a bike.

Buchenwald Concentration Camp prisoners identified.
Bonus: click around on the same Flickr photostream for really neat WWII era photos.

Dooce (former Mormon) talks about popcorn popping and likes my name for their unborn daughter. (She has great photography too)

How to make a baby, in case you didn't know:



Briefly chatted yesterday with my former editor (who has since left the NYC magazine where she worked and I interned last summer), who is now LSAT'ing and working at Blue & Cream Boutique...
Since bandage dresses have been in the back of my mind lately (a la this Herve Leger), I am now obsessed with Preen's Power Bandage Dress....

I can only hope ABS makes a knockoff soon...
if not, then, dreams are recession friendly, right?!
What an epiphany.

Here's WSJ weighing in on discount designer duds.

I think the above red or black would be rockin' with these shoes of mine:

(they make me about 6'4" but, worry not, I've embraced it...due to a lot of encouragement from short friends/strangers in airports and grocery stores throughout the years who have admitted they wish for my inches).

New spring beauty look

"Bloodshot"


How to get the look:

Don't sleep properly for a week,
Don't work out for a couple of days,
Take on sporadic eating patterns,
Stare at computer screens for hours on end,
Force contacts into sting-y eyes,
Sleep in your day clothes,
Divorce makeup.

Then take a final at 7 AM.

Gorilla marketing, and other nuggets

Snowboarded Snow Basin Monday, and let's just say, I finally, truly, really understand ski/boarder junkies now.
10 runs in 3 hours due to the combination of hauling it down the mountain and fast gondolas, where we had lots of chit-chat with older people who inspired me to live well.
Glorious.

In a nutshell, from a gem of a lady from Oregon we met:
"You've got to keep moving, because as soon as you sit down, it's over!"

---

Was handed one of these by a wordless ape-costumed fellow at the bottom of the 800 N 200 E ramp this morning on the way to class..

...so does this constitute 'gorilla marketing'?

(Yes that is a veggie tales band-aid, due to my pinkie crunching in the opening gondola door at Snowbasin...err, I mean, catching it in my binding going off a jump ;))

---

As one of the few iPhone-less in the world nowadays, learning how to put Twitter in my Gmail was the next best thing to up and Steve Job-ing myself with one...

Learn how HERE. Takes 1 minute, tops.

---

In other news, I took a nap yesterday from approximately 6:30-10:30pm.
Glorious.
I dreamed about updating my Facebook status to something about czars and scars (long story with, come to think of it, a lot of anti-war overtones...but bottom line is that, yes, I have rhythmically-worded dreams.)

being a super senior,

and that Coco Rocha blogged about me.

---

Also, did you hear Al Gore met with LDS Church officials?! Read about it here.
I respect anyone who was sitting with my dad when the JFK assassination was announced (true story).

---

In other news, I'm realizing the jig is up.
Namely, other people, besides me, are onto the fact that my blog is primarily a venting medium for
a) how I can't wait to leave Provo and
b) my undying love for Michelle Obama...

So I promise, fans (which apparently includes Peter now...), I promise more varied blogging is on its way. Don't believe me?
Well, trust me when I say I have about 10 half-completed drafts waiting to finish and publish...

In the meantime, I leave you chums with this article: greener pastures are ahead (all entendres intended).

XOXO,
A

Senioritis

I wish I were April fooling.

Rindz and my sleeping arrangements for the past 2+ weeks...
my bed situated on the right, where I had just taken off my gray cardigan and jumped on to MGMT's Electric Feel (the theme song for the impending summer, we decided) and Facebooked to procrastinate my paper...
(which, ps, you people need to blog more! Facebook is super boring when compared to Blogger RSS feed updates!)


Something that IS funny....when Gmail temporarily malfunctions and I see this on my page.

It's like the feeling you get when you're pulled over: you're not a fugitive but not a 100% law-abiding citizen either.
(But in the case of Gmail, you did nothing wrong, so I guess that's not an equal comparison. Oh well.)


Watched Rachel Getting Married yesterday, and I recommend it.


Cool to see Anne Hathaway so raw...It's about dealing with unfinished business in your past (or letting it be the excuse for your present addictions), the dynamics of family and sisterhood, and what it means to come and confront the meaning of "home." Pervasive use of violins in the score, which makes it hauntingly meaningful.


Happy day, you fools!


Moving into DC at the end of this month. And that's the truth. YAY.

On mediocrity

Brought to you courtesy of Gmail quote-of-the-days...

"Only the mediocre are always at their best."
- Jean Giraudoux

Hardcore and intense, but true.

My mom and dad would never care about grades growing up, but they WOULD care "if we had done our best."
ALWAYS.
This applied to everything else... from church talks, volleyball practices, to drivers ed.

(The follow up question was always "Did you make it fun?")

Most of the time that was hard for me to swallow, because I am naturally REALLY HARD on myself (I don't seriously subscribe into astrology, but I am a Virgo and this happens to be a facet) and ALWAYS knew I could have done better.

Gradually, as I would get upset when they'd ask me this, they clarified the statement to:
"Did you do your best with the time you had?"
And then, it made me relax (a little).
Because there are so many more commitments in life that go unseen behind the grade on the transcript or another unit of societal measure.

So yeah, the above quote makes me realize I wasn't wrong for being upset (being asked if I had done my best), because truth be told...

a fate of mediocrity scares me.

Six Word Stories

After many late late nights this week (and last) just being there for my newly broken up roommate (six words: his real girlfriend is/was skiing), yesterday I woke up begrudgingly to go snowboarding yesterday with a new friend.

We both found out later that we secretly didn't want to go, but felt bad as we had made a commitment a few days before.

Words cannot describe how amazing it was to be on the lifts and then lay in the snow, spill our hang-ups about life and commiserate, then get up and careen down the mountain (even though it was sticky spring snow and now I have a goggle tan/burn like aforementioned ski bum ex-fiance).

I swear, get me on a chairlift and I will confess everything.
"Lift confessionals" as I have come to call it. Slightly hilarious.

But I really think I've become a really blunt person since I've moved here, because I can't stand all this non-confrontational tip-toe-ing, and would rather have people be straight with me instead of getting that smile-y "Yer so greaht" facade and then get stabbed in the back later.

Because I am extremely bored all the time here in Provo, and have given up on the constant self-advertising efforts to make friends who you know will then ditch you for a man-friend, and instead channeled that energy in lots and lots of daydreaming.

Get a life, you say? Well, that's mine at the moment so put that in your pipe and smoke it.

(To all those who are still my friends (and you know who you are), you are diamonds in this rough patch of my life.)

To make a blunt segway...ssooooo John Mayer's Six Word Story (read more about it on Kate's blog), via Twitter, is

"My heart didn't come with instructions."

Why is he so brilliant? Really.
I remember in Spain when I was bored on the charter bus, I listened to his albums on repeat all the time, savoring every brilliantly constructed sentence and insight (him and Missy Higgins. Gah! love them!). I was astounded that the amazing voice and beats I had come to love had such deep deep meaning when I really listened to the lyrics.

So is it any coincidence that my six word story is:
"Destined for greatness in due time."

I've had to temporarily dull my hyper-anxious senses because I know I can't do anything about said daydreams until I get out of this gestational period of sheer monotony.
Provo is like a mother's womb, some bask in or never want to leave the comfort, and some just can't wait to get out kicking and screaming.

Guess which one I am.

Fire escapes

I've always been intrigued with the irony of fire escapes.

They're morbid for making you think about potential emergency situations, yet scream romance (cue 'Moon River' and other fire escape movie scenes).

Archaically antique, yet practical even in the most progressive of places.

I know it's already been done, but one day when I get really good at photography I want to walk around various cities and photograph fire escapes.

If only I were as enlightened as Will in his study break, where he waxed poetic about these urban wonders (yeah, I know, that's what he writes on a study break...I should really just quit).

My East/West Schism

Item 1:
I'm back from Boston...the grungy couch surfing caught up to me and now I'm sick. But it was worth it, even if now my throat makes me sound like I licked an ashtray with that raspy Maggie Gyllenhaal crinkle as if I were to order a bagel "light on tha schmea!"

Oh, now I'm thinking about lox and that makes me sad.

I promise I didn't get my cold from some East Coast prepster (how I fancy them so).
Though I swear I saw more attractive men, shirts tucked in (aww!) with that perfect balance of equal parts European sophistication and American pragmatism than I've seen in my 4 years in Provo.
Seriously.

Item 2:
So I came across Will's blog and remembered why I adore him...
If I lived in NYC, I would want him to be my Stanford Blatch wingman.

Item 3:
This 9-year old could teach wonders to Cougarfolk.

Item 4:
I confess: so maybe I AM really just skin deep sometimes...
Por ejemplo, the fact that I watched all 10 current episodes of The City within 24 hours. (Hey, commercial free, on MTV's web site: if I planned my days around being home to watch it I would be more worried).
Of all the things that are so mind-boggling unrealistic about the show, the only pervasive thought that keeps coming to mind is their FLAWLESS SKIN (and the fact that NY looks sparkling clean). I understand that they are wearing pounds of makeup but seriously, nobody in New York has peachy blemish-free skin like that.
Everyone knows as soon as you get to the city from somewhere else, you get a fresh crop of city blemishes that don't go away until you leave again.
And I'm convinced that Olivia is not really from the city. Because any true NY'er (let alone someone who's allegedly born and bred) would be downright embarrassed to be on any TV show about it.
So yeah, amongst all the sweeping shots of the Manhattan skyline and nostalgic building/restaurant spotting, all I can really do in the middle of the show is ogle at their clear skin.

Item 5:
I'm training for a half-marathon in early May. And I am notorious for hating running. Should be interesting.

Item 6: Another story to humor you, this just came to me: I will never forget the time I was sitting around Madrid's Puerta del Sol and my friend Sarah was around (I don't know, bumping and grinding or just being her Mexican self)...but for some reason I was alone for a couple minutes....it was 2 AM, the height of a Spanish day, and three Madrilenos come over start talking to me, preguntandome, and their THIRD QUESTION, I KID YOU NOT, was: "What religion are you?"
I thought I might die of hilarity.
If Spaniards struck my fancy, I would have considered them attractive...but they were strangely fixated on talking religion, and because I could not communicate what dear Thomas says below, not to mention that true God-loving Mormons love everyone despite their flaws (novel concept) I was way over it, and since Sarah didn't learn any Spanish in Spain, we had to bail.

We could have partied until noon at Kapital and had an amazing time.
But ah, lo siento, mi amigos, no great story to tell of that.

Silly Goodies

I've posted the following in hopes your humpday is enlivened.

1)


I stole this from Teen.
We need to BUMP these OUT of Utah, as more poofi-ness is NOT what this state needs. However, if Utah is doomed to stay outdated as it presently is, I may be okay with these if it means the lack of hairspray usage will help the environment (because the quantity in which it is used here is alarming). At EFY, I used to call the girls who ratted their hair like this "tumor-heads," laughed at them and covertly took pictures of their hideousness. They're probably barefoot and pregnant as I type this.


2) Here's last semester's Best of The Daily Universe's Police Beat.
Because we all know it's why people read the DU (that, and Reader's Forum).


3) Stole this from Val's blog:
















4)

Ed Westwick and Helena Christensen in a Harper's Bazaar photo shoot a la 'Mrs. Robinson.' Westwick has said he's the "last of the romantics" (the antithesis of womanizing Chuck Bass). This only makes me fancy him more!














and...


5) Here's a little gem of a video I posted on my Facebook page but thought I'd also share with the blogosphere. Call me a narcissist, but I've watched it probably no less than 200 times to laugh... er, admire how skilled I am (remember, my life is bleaksville and Lipstick Jungle is on hiatus).

It is entitled "Sunday Best."
Enjoy.