BROWN THUMB

P.S. I got a camera, so there will be nice pics instead of
the usual pixelated beauties from my phone!! Yay!

Merry Christmas everyone!!

Guess what the Boy Next Door gave me??

He gave me an orchid. And I completely melted.  Why was I so weak at the knees?

Orchids are not a traditional flower

--which is perfect, because-- 

I am not a traditional kind of girl.

He also mentioned that he wanted something that would last a long while*.  This surreality carried on for  a few days.  Then I came off my cloud:

Dang. 

Anyone know how to take care of one of these things??

*No, this is not a fairy tale, daydream or figment of my imagination.  And I am not lying.  
(I know you're melting too, don't deny it.)

MELE KALIKIMAKA

is the thing to say
on a bright Hawaiian Christmas day.

Especially when you find a ukulele under the ol' tree.
Excuse me while I go practice until my fingers bleed.

CRAPPY WRAPPING:

A post dedicated to my least favorite Christmas tradition 

When I first found out who Santa was, I couldn't believe it.  Not that I was crushed, or shocked that my parents purchased all of those gifts, but that 

MY PARENTS WRAPPED 

ALL OF THOSE THINGS

  WITHOUT ANY HELP 

FROM ELVES. 

"They must really love us kids." I thought to myself.  Because to me, that is the worst chore that could ever be inflicted upon a human.

I tried to love it. I really did. I practiced and practiced getting my creases crisp and my tape jobs even. I tried getting excited about fancy bows and tags.  And I know lots of people enjoy wrapping presents...

I don't.

As long as the paper sufficiently hides the identity of the gift is my motto.

This MAY look like a bad example of my motto, but it is actually
a great one, because the logo is a red herring for my brother.
It is just an old shoe box. Ha.

Plus, I hate it when there are extra squares of paper sitting around that are too small to cover the surface area of any present. I prefer to optimize the square foot area of my wrapping paper.  Waste not, want not is another one of my wrapping mottos.

I go for the "quilted" effect.

And last but not least, I cannot justify wrapping my own presents just so I can unwrap them Christmas morning.  My dad, in his funny ways, asked me to wrap a present to myself. Here's what actually happened:

To: Sarah
From: Dad
Lack of Wrapping by: Sarah

Merry Christmas.

UNFAMILIAR TERRITORY

Do you remember that feeling you felt when you took one quick, timid hop across The Line while playing capture the flag in grade school?

The surge of adrenaline

The terror that you might be tagged

The sheer thrill of rescuing from jail 

      or dodging opponents' outstretched fingers

And if you're me--

      the skittish scurry back to your side for safety

Oh, the glorious playground days.


I had very similar feelings this weekend in Ute Land at:
The Pie (π) Pizzeria
{Way cool. I know. SO fitting for my blog.}


I had two very contradictory feelings while eating here, since it is basically a culinary rite of passage for any true Ute.  Therefore:

1. I felt like a real, cool college student
2. I felt like a squeaky clean Cougar

I mean, there were beer logos all over the walls! Ah! My eyes!
Just kidding.

See this expression? What a beautiful mix of  the emotions
described above.  I just couldn't comprehend that I could actually buy
a coke WITH CAFFEINE.

I hope you hear the sarcasm dripping from my voice. 

Anyways. I had this supergood pizza called The Greek (appropriate, I know) with gyro meat, tzatziki sauce, feta cheese, dash of lemon etc. Wowzers.

I wish I could take more appetizing pictures. My bad. 

And speaking of feeling a bit out of place...I was in the audience for the Mormon Tabernacle Choir's Christmas Concert. That was a bit weird.  I even sang along to some of the songs.

(A picture of two stressed individuals after ticket, parking,
waiting-in-line, and seating ordeals.)

Oh and one last "unfamiliar territory":

I got bored waiting for the concert to start...
these are my vintage oxford shoes.

This is the only picture I have of this moment, but I went to a baptist church to listen to the Boy Next Door perform Handel's Messiah. He had a marvelous trumpet solo on The Trumpet Shall Sound.  The entire chapel was filled with his majestic melody.  Nothin' like a trumpet to proclaim tidings of good joy, in my opinion. A-maz-ing.

He was still in his tux when we went to get pizza.  OK. Maybe we do dress up to go out to eat.

A good weekend in the city, if I do say so myself. Later days!

FASHION NO-NO:

The Boy Next Door criticizes my ugg boots
Obviously, he has no room to talk.




Is this a good piece of blackmail, or what??
Gross.

I HAVE A FUTURE, I SWEAR

A rundown of my week so far:

Studied a whopping grand total of 14 hours for my econ test, and I bust out a C on the final.

I am a smart and capable woman.

Procrastinated studying for linear algebra by peeling my pomegranate.  When my roommate got home, she asked what the purple spots were on our ceiling.

I am a smart and capable woman.

Ok. Bragging time. Studied a mere 6 hours for my mechanics of materials test and walked out with 100%.  Yet another living testimony that I shouldn't be an econ major and should stick to engineering.

I am a smart and capable woman.


{No sarcasm that time}

Procrastinated some more (honestly, this is my week. Procrastinate. Take Test. Rinse. Lather. Repeat.) by microwaving popcorn for my personal consumption.  It was also a celebratory measure taken in behalf of my mechanics test score. Score = 100, in case you forgot. Anyways, you know how you can elevate the package with an inverted bowl to maximize the poppage capacity?

Uh, yeah.

Whoops.

I am a smart and capable woman.

*Tupperware failure was due to the fact that I neglected to calculate the maximum temperature of the popcorn bag and compare it to the minimum melting temperature of standard soft plastic before popping.  You would think that after  - ahem - *ACING* my mechanics materials test (oh, did I mention that already??)  I would have applied my fountain of knowledge to real life.

LOVE ME SOME VITAMIN D

{And yes. I am blogging before finals are over. Shoot me.}

I am missing the warm weather, being stuck in the basements of the HBLL and studying for finals. Luckily, there was sun this week in P-town.  And I don't mean just the weather.

Take a gander at who might be my daily dosage of vitamin D...

The Boy Next Door in the living flesh. Yes, scream & jump up and down. It is for reals.

Just humor me and notice the tux.  Yum.  And no.  We do not dress up for frozen yogurt.  He had a concert that night.  He plays the trumpet.


And I know what you're going to say next. 
 (... haven't heard that one before...)
And, yes, he is. 

This weekend we relived our childhood and played Candy Land with real candy.  It was his idea. Cute, huh?  I think I ate myself into a stupor. Not so cute.

 

BYU students replace partying beverages with candy.

This is me and Spencer standing on the same square amongst the gingerbread and candy cane forests.

He is red and I am blue. And don't you forget it.



A good way to spend a reading day if I do say so myself.
Have a wonderful week of finals! If this isn't you, pray for those of us who are studying.
Heaven knows I need it.

GOODBYE

You will all have to deal with no more posts for the next week plus 3 days.  I have to study.

I have to force feed myself information, and digest it, by....let's see...monday at 6:45 a.m.

Brutal. I know.  The butt crack of dawn for the econ final.

No more bad cooking stories.
No more ranting and raving on my classes.
No more Boy Next Door stories. (I can hear you all booing and hissing. Sorry, I know. I know.)




So I dramatically sign off my blog for the better good until December 17th at 5:00 p.m.

Boy Next Door is changing my password.



Later Days!
Sarah

MY THOUGHTS ON GOD

I believe God has a sense of humor.  The more I study science, the more I am convinced. {In God, and his humor}

For example, consider the speed of light (3x10^8 meters/sec).

It is ALWAYS 3x10^8 m/s.  

What do I mean by that? You know when you are driving on the freeway and another car is traveling at 65 mph in the opposite direction in the other lane? It appears as if you are sitting still and the other car is approaching at 130 mph. (65+65)

BUT theoretically if you were approaching another spaceship at the speed of light, who is also traveling at the speed of light, the relative velocity between you and the other spaceship is STILL 3x10^8.  Not 6x10^8.  Craziness.



Just think, us humans can develop bridges, cars, cell phones and cures for diseases, but we can't figure out the speed of light or a way to travel that fast.

I think God did that on purpose.

Ha. Watch 'em try to figure THIS one out.

Note: I also have similar thoughts about the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle since it sends scientists scrambling. I think God had to throw in a few mind-boggling mysteries into this world for his own personal enjoyment.

IT'S NOT YOU, IT'S ME

A few months ago I, rather dramatically, dedicated a post to my new bf of the semester: my major.

Haha. Now, I laugh.

"Trading men for matrices and flirting for free body diagrams" ? 

Try: Traded Studying for Spencer.

And after being force fed hundreds of equations and still having outputs of "C" on my tests, I think it is time for us to take a break.

I am here this afternoon to publicly denounce that title of boyfriend.
Especially with two weeks left in the semester.

Mechanical Engi....who? 

I dropped him like he's hot.*  

 It's ok, I applied for all my scholarships this week so I could use my good GPA before it TANKS after finals.




*Don't freak.
I'm not changing my major.

BANANAS

"I raped Banana Republic on black Friday at midnight", in the words of the Boy Next Door.  {He really went to town.  I think he walked out with more apparel than me and my sisters combined.  I know, right? A man who doesn't mind shopping! Win!}

I'm not hatin'

I'm lovin'

We all know my opinion on men who wear classy attire.  

I made a few killer purchases:

Blouse for six dollars?

Win.

And  the same one in blue?

Win.

AND some snazzy earrings for $2?

Win.

Self: Good day. You are better off than you were before.

THE TRUTH

came out this weekend.

I am dating a Ute Fan.  
And I don't know how I feel about it.

I mean, yes, I knew his family went to U of U, that they cheered for their football team..but he is a BYU student. (And, apparently, a traitor.)

At least in my book he is.

Mostly, I am just shocked....

...that I would ever let myself do this
.....that it went under the radar for so long
.......that there actually IS a Ute Fan out there with some class....

{On the last one, I jest all in good fun. :) }




I feel like...I feel like....ummm.....

I feel like I just found out 

that my favorite love song 

was written about a sandwich.

{From the movie 27 Dresses}

WHAT YOU SHOULD NEVER SAY AT THE DOORSTEP

I cannot resist sharing this story with you.
It was completely unintentional...
Don't judge.


It all started because of this little piece of metal:

sorry for the mirror image.  Photo Booth tends to do that.

ONE EVENING The boy next door dropped me off, and I couldn't unlock my door because my gloves that were keeping my hands warm {I know right? isn't that supposed to be his job?} made me extra clumsy.

Being the gentleman that we all know him to be, he offered to open my door for me.  P.S. LOVE the chivalry.

BND: "Which key is it?"

[admittedly, I wasn't thinking properly.]

Sarah: "Uh, the one that says 'DO NOT REPRODUCE'."

[the awkward silence ensued. That was error numero uno.]

BND: "Oh, you mean, "do not DUPLICATE'?" 

Sarah's thoughts: dang. I REALLY hope that wasn't a Freudian on my part. Smooth Sarah, smooth.

Sarah: "Whatever. Just stick it in."

[More awkward silence.  That was error numero dos]

Sarah's thoughts: CRAP. crapcrapcrap. Just stick the KEY in the LOCK.  Sarah, you IDIOT!"

[I look over to realize that BND is silently laughing. Of course, he can't keep it in forever]

BND: BWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!

I am sure you can fill in the rest.  Needless to say there was a major laughing fit for a solid 6 minutes.

Moral of the story:

Know what the text on your keys actually says.

Never use vague pronouns like "it" after a Freudian.

And with that considered, you should be safe at your next doorstep scene.

HELLO MY NAME IS ( _____ )

People always guess my name wrong.  

The funny thing is, they always guess the same name: 

Jessica.

Should I analyze this for you?

Ok.

Jessica: #1 name for a baby girl in my birth year

Therefore, a bit overused and generic.

{Disclaimer: I'm not hatin' on Jessicas. 

Realize that only I can say this because "Sarah" 
was the #6 most popular name,

 thus almost as equally cliche. }

______________________________

I saw a high school friend on campus the other day.  It went something like this:

"Hey! Jessica, right?"

Nope.

"Wait, do you have a sister named Jessica?"

Nope.

Really. REALLY?! DO I REALLY LOOK LIKE A JESSICA??  A "GENERIC JESSICA"?

This is a huge insult, just so you know.  I don't care that he forgot my name. He could have picked any other name and I would have been much happier.


Or I guess I could give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe I look like a "generic Sarah" and therefore Jessica isn't that far off.

Or maybe he truly forgot my name, but remembered the year I was born, and that he had read in a baby book somewhere that Jessica was the most popular name, thus deducing that his odds of guessing correctly would be greater.


I like to think the latter.

On second thought, no I don't.
That means he is a bit of a weirdo.

THE WOES OF MY COOKING

Today, my sunny side up eggs stuck to the pan.

I forgot rule numero uno of cooking. GREASE THE PAN.

They turned into scrambled eggs rather quickly.

Boo.

ELL OH ELL

Sometimes I see funny things on campus.  I literally think to myself: "LOL"

{And sneakily snap a picture with my camera phone.}


Usually, it is actually the professors who are setting up these pieces of humor, believe it or not.

Like this:

A gift from one biology professor to another,
hidden in his lab for him to find at a later date

When my professor opened the bucket, he screamed like a school girl and threw it down.

"VILE CREATURES! THIS IS WHY I STUDY ECOLOGY"

Well said.

Here is another one that brightened my day:

A copy of the textbook, CHAINED to the desk in the lab

Welcome to the dark depths of the Clyde Building Dungeon.

And my all-time-personal-favorite:

Displayed in the Eyring Science Center above the giant electric pendulum

Why might this be my favorite? 

Because it mocks the ignorant. 

I went right up and grabbed the wire with my entire fist.

Yeah. Do you even KNOW what an ohm even IS? 

That's what I thought.

And the physics professors know that you don't know, too.

It is kind of like electric friction, if you will.  

Ohms don't kill you. 

Amps kill you. 

Ohms actually RESTRICT the flow of current, or amps. 

A resistance that high is a good thing.

anyways...

I hope I didn't kill off half of my readers with the last 1/3 of the post.

I just HAD to be nerdy for a few minutes.

Sorry.

Have a terrific monday.

SHOW AND TELL

This is
my lucky
 t-shirt:

in all of its glory.

WE change your world

 @ BYU.

Women in Engineering &Technology

The shirt speaks for itself.

Ok, but maybe I'll just add a few comments.

Maybe I feel kinda smart when I wear this.

Maybe I feel elite.

Maybe it brings extra confidence

Maybe I score higher on tests with it on.

On that last one: yeah right. Ha ha.

And when I see another girl that has this shirt on campus it automatically makes her my new best friend.

"Hey!  A geek like me! 

Wanna hear a calculus joke?"

FRUIT SNACKS, BLANKETS, AND BOOKS.

OH MY!

the demand for studying has died*
the supply of homework has increased
and i am encountering decreasing marginal returns
in my studying

therefore, i blog.

can you tell i have an econ test
tomorrow?

so i sit here
in the House of Blues
wrapped up in a blanket*
with the heater off.

eating fruit snacks.


life is soooo good.


*both accounts are the Boy Down The Street's fault.**




** I have to type small so he doesn't glance over and see what I am typing.  


He's crampin' my style.

ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS

is YOU!!
is my two front teeth!
or any other fill-in-the-blank line of a popular Christmas carol!

Just kidding.

Ok. For reals.  You know the drill.

..........................................................

 Dear Santa, 


      I have been a good girl yadda yadda yadda...
Let's cut to the chase.

1. (see picture)

I want one.  

No. The ukulele, you fool.

          

     2. Red Boots.

...not these:

NO FUR! remember?

definitely not these:

But THESE:

A classy, yet worn, cowgirl approach would be alright

     3.  A light blue dress that I can twirl in. 

Preferably the one in the middle.  (As seen in 500 Days of Summer.)

That is all.

Love,

Sarah

P.S.  Q mentioned that I should put the boy down the street on the list, but that came as sort of an early Christmas present this weekend, so it doesn't count for one of my three wishes.  Just letting you know the rules on that sort of thing.  

HAPPY FRIDAY

If you would have asked me this morning if there was such thing as a "Bad Friday" I would have answered with a resounding "YES."

In fact, I was thinking that whoever said, "if you go to bed and wake up in the morning, everything will seem better" was a liar.



It was a Typical Bad Morning:

typ·i·cal  bad  morn·ing:   

[ˈtipikəl bad ˈmôrni ng]noun

1. wake up late

2. cold shower

3. can't find clothes

4. late to class

5. no breakfast

6. any combination of the above 

But That Boy Down the Street came to the rescue.
Fruit snacks. Three packs. All different flavors.
Delivered to my physics class.
Without an order.
All of the boys sitting by me just gawked.
I am sure they were mad they hadn't thought of it first.
"Who was THAT?" they all asked.
Just the hero of my morning.
That's all.

I think I almost cried. I LOVE fruit snacks

and I love them even more on a crappy morning. 

cheers. happy friday.

ROUND TO ONE SIG FIG (SIGNIFICANT FIGURE)

This is great news. 

I made food without following a recipe to the nearest 

1/8 of a teaspoon. 

I needed to redeem myself after numerous meals made by talented men.  I felt like my ego was hit a little too hard. Ya know, kind of like if the girl fixes the guy's car? (Which I fully intend on doing in my future marriage someday.  There might be a reversal of roles in some areas of my household.)

anyways...
Some risotto
chicken broth until the rice was cooked al dente
tossed in some roasted red peppers
....a splash of white wine vinegar....
dash of a few spices
....dumped in some onions until it looked good
and pepper, pepper, pepper.

You don't understand, this was really hard for me.

VOILA!

(not to be confused with my instrument, the viola)

Sorry about the lame picture.  Maybe I'll get a real camera soon, instead of using my crappy, pixelated phone.

Oh, and on the right track to becoming a
"DOMESTIC GODDESS"?

Check.

SHAKE THE GLITTER OFF YOUR CLOTHES

Masquerade.
Paper faces on parade.


More like painted...

My talented mother is the designer of our disguises.
Props mom, props.

My fake eyelashes look like I am shooting FIRE out of my PUPILS.
MWUAHAHAHA

SO. MUCH. GLITTER.

I was gonna die.

I love sparkles. It was a little girl's dream come true.

I got sparkles on his costume.
He was good about it, considering it was probably a
major blow to his masculinity

 Yeah! You guessed right! The little boy from the Movie "Up".

Although, he wasn't allowed in the dance because he was a "hazard." (The balloons. Lame, I know.)

And I'm not gonna let him forget it, either. 

Hazard. Ha.

Notice he even has the trumpet attached to his backpack. Legit, huh?

Is that a real trumpet?
Yes.
Can he actually play it?
Yes.
Quite well, actually.

 AND notice the biblical scene in the background that, uh,  perfectly compliments our attire.

Ahh, only at BYU.

OOPS

Q and I are as close as they come.  We often get comments from strangers how we appear to be sisters.

Look what happened last sunday:

We didn't plan it.  Cross-my-fingers-hope-to-die-stick-a-needle-in-my-eye

AANND on Week #2 we didn't improve.  

Double whammy.

{I feel like we are posing for inmate (haha, we're ROOMmates) full-body-mug-shots. Guilty of some serious Fashion Crime}

Opinions? Sisters, no?

.666666667...(repeating)

Full birthdays
Half birthdays
Quarter birthdays.

 I take fraction birthdays very seriously.  Even the 2/3 birthday.

Which is TODAY.

{If there is a reason to celebrate, I will find it.}

My unbirthday at Tucanos

Q's mom decided she'd get funny

and make me dance on the tables

at Tucanos this weekend.

With a tambourine.

She told them it was my birthday

It wasn't.

But I did anyways

and got free ice cream

The end.

Moral of the story: Celebrate your fraction birthdays.

You've got at least 12 (that are easily justifiable)

and as many as 366 (on a leap year).

Oh, P.S. Happy REAL birthday to my dearest roommate Kim.  We are 2 years and 4 months apart. Exactly.

P.P.S. It is the-boy-next-door's missionary birthday.  He returned 2 years ago. See, isn't 27 is a good number?

GOING WHERE NO ONE DARES

Me, Q, and siblings BEHIND the caution tape.

Today was a day of firsts.

     First snowfall.
     First day in the JSB basement. {FYI no classrooms down there, folks. Whoops}
     First day in the math lab on campus.


Yes friends, it is true.  Sarah, in her right mind, studied in the math lab.

For the first time.

Ever.

Yeah.  I made it through both semesters of calculus without help.  But linear algebra...
Let's just say I struggle with any dimension > 2.
Especially 3-D.  I suck at 3-D.  Even though I live in it.

For instance: I ran into a pole the other day.  My depth perception was a little off. That doesn't happen in 2D....

3.14 APPLE PIES

{Maybe I should change the title of my blog to fit the season...}

Did I make this pie??

No.

Do I wish that I did?

Yes.

Do I  covet the man who knows how to 

(1) "cut in the shortening and butter" for a killer pie crust, 

(2) make impromptu pie filling with strawberry jam, and

(3) add finishing touches such as weaving & crimping to the outer edges?

Yes.

Just so you know,

 my secret plans include 

exploiting his baking skills

so that I can become

the

DOMESTIC GODDESS

that I should be.

Oh, and then he cooked me dinner.

{Ok. I'm done. This post really isn't working in my favor.

I'm stopping here.}