it's times like these that make me think grad school might not be so bad . . .

. . . because then i might be as awesome as this:


English 495 Final Class (as presented in an email from my prof):

OK, so here is the latest on our final schedule. I was reminded that I promised Trent Hickman several months ago that I would cover for him in administering his 293 final while he goes to some academic conference/tourist junket. Along with my own 293, this puts me at 6 hours and counting in the bowels of the JFSB this Saturday. To avoid any more time in that eternal semi-twilight world, I propose the following.

Instead of Saturday breakfast, we do Tuesday lunch (that’s tomorrow). You bring your presentations and I will bring the Pizza and Apple Beer (or Root Beer for the more orthodox among us). Final papers will be due Saturday via email by 5:00 p.m.--thus prolonging your agony by an extra 8 hours or so should you choose to avail yourself of that time.

Hope this is amenable to all.


English Language 350 Final Class (as presented in story form by my prof):

As you go out into the "Real World", Be Willing To:

1. Learn And Do New Things
2. Do More Than Is Required
3. Express Your Opinion Honestly And With Charity
4. Accept Criticism
5. Work Well With Others
6. Give Credit To Others
7. Give Of Your Talents Freely
8. Ask For Help Rather Than Faking It
9. Be Trustworthy And To Keep Confidences
10. Be A Worthy Vessel So You Can Have The Lord's Help


yep. i'm pretty much jealous of myself right now (:

why it really IS a disney world...

(i bet you weren't expecting that)

Yeah, not so much...

You know those times when you put a quarter into the gumball machine and get like 7 gumballs for the price of one?

Or when you buy M&Ms from the vending machine and get 3 packets for 60 cents?

Yeah...that doesn't happen to me. Things like THIS do:

Yesterday, I got an email from my great aunt that she sent out on our family listserv. She was reminding us to write in to the quarterly newsletter by Friday because she was putting it together and only had a few responses.

I got the same email SEVENTEEN TIMES. No, I am not exaggerating.

The first three or four times I chalked it up to multiple mouse clicks and a dial-up connection.

Times five through nine I figured she had some short-term memory loss and was stuck in some sort of Ground Hog Dayesque repetitive pattern.

By the time thirteen came around, I was guilted into actually WRITING something, which I sent in between times fifteen and sixteen.

After that it just got annoying.


AND THEN...

I got a text from a friend in the BYU Orchestra reminding me about an upcoming performance. When I texted back for the price, she responded, "FREE!"


SEVEN TIMES. No, I am not exaggerating.


Sometimes technology is more trouble than it's worth.



And I didn't even win the Mexican Lottery today ):

I wouldn't be suprised if I got struck by lightning...

So last week I went out with one of my friends from freshman year who was in town for the week. We met up with Aaron, his old RA, and Aaron's wife, Emily for dessert at TGI Friday's. Aaron asked me if I was going to be in town this summer and said he wanted to set me up with his brother.

His brother is, and I quote, "Cute enough, but a little...odd."

Despite my excitement at the possibility of going out with such a catch, I'm not exactly a fan of blind dates, so I politely declined despite numerous attempts to get me to change my mind.

I ran into Aaron today on campus and he again asked me if he could give my number to his brother.

I said no.

He said please.

I said no.

He said pretty please.

I said no.

He said, "With my brother's luck, you'll probably be dating someone by the time he calls you."

...

I gave him my number.


But before you judge, just remember that it wasn't me who said, "Don't put all your eggs in one basket."

Let's just hope that applies to fried eggs as well...

So this is slightly embarrassing . . .

I found this posted on the internet . . .






Now I just want to know how they got ahold of my AP Calculus test . . .