You look like a monkey....

In about four hours it will be official, I will have been on this earth for 38 years (I was born at 4:55 a.m.). There is one thing I have always been grateful for when it comes to birthdays.....my brother Paul has always been older. For some reason this little fact pleases me and makes any pain at getting old kind of disappate. Plus, if you are going to have a birthday on a holiday, pick Halloween. It feels like the whole world parties with me. I will be dressing in my usual costume, the one I have been using year after year for about 26 years now, I am dressing as.....drum roll please.....the birthday girl. This costume comes in very handy because essentially I can pick any outfit I want and when people ask what I am dressed as I tell them "I'm the Birthday Girl" and they, with a smile, wish me a happy birthday. When it comes down to it, I enjoy a day that is all about me. Who cares about the dumb candy anyway, I get birthday cake. So what if people dress up? I get presents. So what if the doorbell rings all night? I get tacos for dinner. So what if teenagers who are way too old and whose parents should be laying down the law are out trick-or-treating? If they are older than 12 I make them sing Happy Birthday to me before I hand over the Kit Kat. All in all, I love my birthday and I don't care if I am 38 or 78 I am going to live it up and have a grand time.

P.S. One little bummer? I am skipping two classes to attend the Halloween parade at the kids' school. I wouldn't care normally but I am getting a test back in History and a paper back in an English class. Dang, I am desperate for those grades but it will have to wait because the little kiddie parade is the highlight of my day/year. I get to watch the best looking Hannah Montana and the cutest little pirate parade past me. [Happy sigh]

Remind you of anyone?

Sorry I don't know how to import video into my blog, until I figure it out, this will have to do.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W95Y8hNQiH8

Indignities

Harold and I just got back from SLC where I had a follow-up appointment at the Huntsman Center. We had to wait for two hours to see the doctor and another hour to get a chest x-ray. I realize that doctors and hospitals are busy, and that there are people there who are very sick and require more attention than I do, but I was very, very disappointed in the wait. One of those hours was spent half undressed with a sheet on an exam table.

We had planned on carving pumpkins tonight with friends. We were home two hours later than planned and I had to call a friend to take the kids because I was worried about them being home alone and I had to cancel the pumpkin carving as well.

Then when we arrived home our daughter was thinking we would still have the pumpkin carving activity and when she discovered that was not the case she was livid. She pouted, crossing her arms defiantly across her chest, her head bowed down with a frown on her face that would scare the living daylights out of anyone. I restrained myself. I actually thought of throwing things and screaming, telling her that my day hadn't been all the fun, and that her poor father not only had to wait all that time with me, he had to drive for two hours to get me to the doctor and back. I kept my mouth shut and waited. Eventually Harold addressed the bad attitude and he and I calmly explained that our day hadn't been all that exciting and that we were disappointed too. I think it was much more effective this way than if I had thrown the coffee table, cereal bowls and all, into the air, screaming as I went.

Okay, in an effort at full disclosure, I gave the RS lesson yesterday on Elder Holland's talk entitled, The Tongue of Angels. This is an area in which I need some serious help. But, the talk really helped me tonight and we avoided a major scene that would have escalated and become very ugly.

Today I am grateful for inspired leaders who know what we need and when we need it.

The top 38 reasons I love Harold (the birthday boy)!

1. His love of the gospel.
2. His hands, so strong.
3. His work ethic.
4. He tells me I am beautiful.
5. His infectious laugh.
6. His sense of humor, even if he does laugh at British comedy.
7. He laughs at my jokes.
8. He gave me Savannah.
9. He gave me Mackson.
10. He loves people.
11. He is the sole caretaker of our yard.
12. He makes me feel special.
13. He doesn't watch sports. (This one is HUGE! for me.)
14. He goes to the temple every week.
15. He plays the organ with UMPH!
16. He holds FHE.
17. He brings us together for family prayer and scripture study.
18. He is kind.
19. He is gentle.
20. He is able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. (Wait, does Harold do that?)
21. He appreciates a clean house and works hard to make sure it gets clean every week.
22. I NEVER have to ask him to clean or do yard work. (He asks me, but that's another story.)
23. He appreciates a home-cooked meal.
24. When I make a Sunday meal he gets right up and does the dishes.
25. He encourages me to do my best (school, gospel)
26. He loves the Savior.
27. He can make others laugh, just by his presence, he has a joy about him.
28. He takes pride in what we own, even if I call it white trash (i.e. the Geo)
29. He can find a common ground with anyone.
30. He got an education and by doing so set a great example for our children.
31. If I get to Heaven, it will be because of him.
32. He never, ever gets after me for going astray from Weight Watchers.
33. He values our time together as a couple and takes me on dates every week.
34. Whenever he hears a jet engine he looks up, even if he is driving. Although this scares me, I love that he has a passion for something so amazing.
35. When I break down, he lifts me up.
36. He likes to play so we get out of the house do DO THINGS. He NEVER sits around.
37. He listens to me, no matter what I want to talk about.
38. He promised me when we got married that we would spend our 75th anniversary together when we are 100. It may not happen, but I know he feels the same today as he felt then, even more so.

All my love to my forever friend and handsome husband. Happy Birthday Lima!

Love, p.

Who is The Real Me?

I couldn't help it, this was fun.

1. YOUR ROCK STAR NAME: (first pet & current car): Scooter Villager
2.YOUR GANGSTA NAME: (fave ice cream flavor, favorite cookie): Peanut Butter Panic Cinnamon Oatmeal
3. YOUR “FLY Guy/Girl” NAME: (first initial of first name, first three letters of your last name): J-Nic
4. YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color, favorite animal): Red Monkey
5. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born): Marie Santa Clara
6. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first): Nicje
7. SUPERHERO NAME: (”The” + 2nd favorite color, favorite drink): The Green Pepsi
8. NASCAR NAME: (the first names of your grandfathers): Floyd Grant
9. STRIPPER NAME: ( the name of your favorite perfume/cologne/scent, favorite candy): Coconut Lime Twix
10.WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (mother’s & father’s middle names ): Jeanne Edward
11. TV WEATHER ANCHOR NAME: (Your 5th grade teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter): Namba Nampa
12. SPY NAME: (your favorite season/holiday, flower): Fall Tulip
13. CARTOON NAME: (favorite fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing right now + “ie” or “y”): Peachie
14. HIPPY NAME: (What you ate for breakfast, your favorite tree): Brownie Maple
15. YOUR ROCKSTAR TOUR NAME: (”The” + Your fave hobby/craft, fave weather element + “Tour”): The Reading Wind Tour

State of Mind

What do you call the phenomenon where you are tired but for some reason you stay up late and watch episodes of Lost downloaded for $1.99 from Apple.com and then peruse the web for another hour beyond that. I wouldn't call it insomnia, maybe hysteria? No that isn't right either, at least according to wikipedia.org. How about insanity, meaning behavior influenced by mental instability. That could work. Or stupidity-as in lacking intelligence as opposed to being ignorant or ill educated. I don't like that one either.

Ooo,ooo, I found it. Addiction: a recurring compulsion by an individual to engage in some specific activity, despite harmful consequences to the individuals health, mental state or social life.

Yep, that's it. Hi, my name is Jeanna and I am in internet addict. Hello Jeanna!

Next thing you know I am going to have to take a sledge hammer to my laptop to rid myself of the terrible chains that are dragging me down. I think I would rather hide in my closet and secretly surf the internet for websites and blogs, as long as I can access my neighbor's WiFi.

It is 1:13 a.m. and I would prefer not to be held responsible for what I say, but at 1:17 I am hitting the hay. Nighty night.

The Rules of Engagement

This post is in honor of Dane and Bridget. (For those of you reading this from the Johnson/McGiven clan, please see the Smith Family Blog link to your right.)

Thirteen years ago this week Harold and I got engaged. I say "this week" because neither Harold nor I can remember the exact date. Here is what we do know. On October 21, 1994 we attended the wedding of our friends Karen and Travis. We went to the Manti Temple, the luncheon, and the reception. We even remember that Harold got stopped by a policeman (the only reason I didn't use 'cop' was because of my Uncle Gary and my respect for policemen everywhere). Harold was able to talk his way out of a ticket for a moving violation (running a red light) by telling the officer that his birthday was only 5 days away and he was turning 25 and about to get his insurance rates dropped, so please, please, please have mercy. And the officer did.

So then, the next very concrete event we can remember was October 26, which is Harold's birthday.

Somewhere in between the 21st and the 26th we were engaged. This leaves Oct 22, 23, 24 and 25. I know it wasn't the 22nd because that would have been a Sunday and we got engaged at a restaurant so the 22nd is out. It wasn't the 25th because I distinctly remember telling someone that I had better make Harold's birthday decent on the 26th because he had given me the ultimate gift "a couple of days ago." So that narrows things down to the 23rd and 24th.

If I was forced at gunpoint to choose a date I would pick the 24th because it was a Tuesday, I had skipped class (my bad habits run deep) that night and I don't think they have night classes at BYU on Mondays, but I could be wrong. So there you go. Nothing too definite.

As for celebrating the day we got engaged, if it is today, Harold is currently sitting in his underwear eating a homemade sandwich and salt and vinegar chips while I sniff at it because I have already eaten my points for the day and can't have anything to eat right now.

If the blessed event is to be celebrated tomorrow I will be at quilt night with the ladies while Harold spends "quality" time with the kids.

Either way, I have no regrets. I would say yes all over again.

Top 10 Thoughts

1. Last night we played Taboo with the kids. The teams were guys against the girls. Harold was giving clues to Mack and the word was "lazy." Harold's first clue was, "Sometimes dad is this," to which Mack replied, "A jerk!"

2. When Mack was giving clues to Harold he said, "When girls wear this they are being immodest" and the answer was "bikini."

3. The other day on campus I saw a guy wearing a sweatshirt that said, "Pizza King." Here is what I want to know, do they ever print those shirts in anything smaller than an XL. Anyone making that kind of declaration wouldn't be any size smaller than that.

4. I saw another guy wearing a shirt with a hand holding playing cards that said, "I'm kind of a big deal." (Yes he was an overweight slightly frumpy guy.)

5. I'm all for being self aware, but I don't buy shirts that say "Hostess Raspberry Donuts are my best friend," or "The reason I look so angry is because my jeans are cutting off my circulation" or my favorite, "Size 3X shirt and proud."

6. Two weeks ago I informed the kids that only 1 towel per week was needed. I warned them that any more than 1 towel in their laundry basket and they would be folding and putting away all the laundry by themselves. Today Mack had 4 towels after two weeks and Sav had 11.

7. Weight Watchers has been going really well this week, way better than in the past couple of months. I feel better and feel like I am actually getting back on track. Anyone who has read the weigh-in results will know why I felt motivated this week.

8. A freak October storm blew in some serious cold air and snow this weekend. Picture me pouting.

9. A friend of mine was diagnosed with gestational diabetes, only to find out at an emergency appointment to address the problem that the nurse had read her someone else's results.

10. Paul and family got evacuated today due to the San Diego fires. Some homes in their neighborhood were burned, but so far they think their's was spared, but they cannot be sure. Any and all prayers will be appreciated.

Controversial

Yesterday in one of my English classes my teacher asked us what it is that women want to do, and the difference between women and men. Based on the story we were reading he was getting at male/female roles in society/church. A guy in my class said, "Men are rational and women are emotional." The teacher asked if anyone wanted to throw a book at the dude. I wasn't too concerned about what he said because he is young and will eventually learn that stereotypes while sometimes applicable are never very flattering. So the teacher said, "Well that is a stereotype but not entirely false." Which I was fine with. I raised my hand and said, "Women want to be nurturers, we want to nurture and you can't say that is stereotypical because that is in the Proclamation to the Family." Then a girl a couple rows down turned to me and said with a sneer, "It says in the proclamation that our primary RESPONSIBILITY is to nurture."

Um, did I say something offensive here? If so, what on earth was it?

Commentary: I am so sick and tired of walking on eggshells when it comes to gender roles in our society/church. The proclamation is clear that the Lord has given men and women different different jobs to do and that is something to embrace and rejoice over. Why do young girls get so offended by the thought that motherhood is just as worthy of an occupation as anything else? I would never tell anyone that I am a great nurturer, but I want to be because I have that God-given power within me.

Also, what that girl said was semantics. If the Lord says our primary responsibility is to nurture, guess what, that means the Lord gave us the tools, that need is within us even if we aren't that good at it.

Hey wait, don't I go to BYU? I almost forgot.

Tweenagers

Today the pre-teen hormones of my sweet daughter reared their ugly head.

Lets roll the clock back by about 6 hours. My children arrived home from school to find that I was not there. This isn't completely unusual since school has started and the kids know the drill: call mom. They called and asked if they could play and I said no because I dont' want them toodling around the neighborhood when I am not there to keep track of their whereabouts. I did tell them that they could go to my friend's house and stay there until I get home. They were weighing their options and I said, "Call me when you decide what to do." In the meantime my friend's kids were on their way to my house and I was fine with that. Let me explain, my friend Karen and I were out together so if our kids want to get together to wait for our arrival that is fine. Soooo, my kids go over to Karen's house and never call. Okay, fine, I said they could do that. The errands we were on took longer than we thought and while on our way home we are both calling our houses to try and get the kids. It takes about 3-4 times of repeated calling and finally there is an answer at Karen's house. My daughter is there and I ask to speak with her. I say, "Where is your brother?" and here is where things gets sticky, her reply, "I don't know."

WHAT???? Since this story has become super long, the short of it is that my son is literally running around the neighborhood, unsupervised and no one is sure of his exact whereabouts. I tell my daughter to get her butt out the door, find her brother and get the heck home. "Can I still play?"

WHAT???? Are you on drugs? I mean, was there a stranger at your elementary school today handing out special candies? Come on!

Then it was a he-said, she-said game of blame and I was so ticked I sent them to clean their rooms, which was BADLY overneeded.

Here's the good part. "NO!" she cries! Over and over again. Then she is screaming and crying and becoming a limp rag as I try to haul her upstairs myself. Then once she is in her room, there is slamming, banging and kicking on her door. I was patient and after several kicks and the kicking calmed down I said to myself, one more kick and I will go upstairs. Yep, she kicked again. I marched up and told her the next time she kicked the door on my house she was going to be making the house payment for the month. (I know idle threats don't work but when this kind of hormonal rage is going on, who has their wits about them, answer me that!)

All in all I spent a good hour today listening to the crying and carrying on upstairs while I put headphones in my ears and watched a webcast of some show on NBC.

I am pretty sure this was the tip of the teenage iceberg, but dang that tip is frigid.

No Boys Allowed

I hope nobody minds that I am always posting about campus life. I guess I just find so many things unusual or funny that I can't help myself.

Yesterday as I was drying my hands in the bathroom for the umpteenth time (having been in the bathroom about 4 times that day, which by the way, what is that about anyway? Why do I have to go so much? My theory is that I hate to have any discomfort whatsoever in class and I want an empty bladder so I feel the need to go about 4 times while on campus between 9 and 3:30, is that too much? I don't really care to know the answer, but I just thought I would share. Okay that was a major detour. Oh, also, I have to find a place to put my monstrosity of a backpack and my laptop case while I am in there. Yes, I have whacked my head on the convenient shelves they put above the toilets while I was bending over to flush, OUCH!).......So, just a recap, I am drying my hands on my way out of the bathroom when a boy walks in. He looks right at me and keeps on moving. I figure he will take a better look around and be outta there, but no. He looks at all the girls (and the bathroom was pretty full) and still keeps on heading in. He moves towards one of the first stalls and then realizes he is in the wrong place. He says, "Whoooaaa!" and starts backing out. He looks right at me again and I am still watching him and he says "Oops, wrong one." To which I replied, "Dude, you just kept on coming." He bolted out before I did and kept trying to explain, at this point everyone in the hall knows what has happened. Dang, harsh day dude. I figure it took until he saw that there were no urinals to finally realize he was in the wrong facility. (I hate that word to describe the bathroom, but I am using in honor of my dear husband who says, "I need to use the facilities" on a regular basis. Love you honey, but I hate that phrase and you know it.)

So, just a little lesson boys: When it says Women, you can think WHOOOAAA-men, don't go there. Otherwise, an overaged, nontraditional student will write about you on her blog and I am sure you don't want that.

So I guess I can announce what Harold's calling is, now that he is official. He is the Ward Mission Leader. I am sure he will do a terrific job. I got called into the bishop's office myself on Sunday and since I am not official yet, here is your hint: Harold needed a companion. I figure that I already agreed to that calling about 13 years ago this month when I agreed to marry him. So, a companion I shall be.

Nontraditional

It happened again yesterday. I went into my advisement center and the nice lady who was helping me referred to me as a nontraditional student. Why I think that I somehow fit in and it isn't THAT noticable that I am 20 years older than the entering freshment is beyond me. I know I look a little older, but come on....nontraditional?? Ouch.

I am suffering from a severe lack of weight watcher motivation. I have been so hung up with school that I haven't really hunkered down to get back into the swing of it. Of course, school is a little bit of an excuse because this summer I was struggling too. I have managed to maintain, which is good, but I am not getting any closer to goal. I had a dream a few nights back that I saw my cousin Holley for the first time in a long time and she was skinny. Holley, if that is what you mean by a "transformation" that doesn't involve plastic surgery. My hats off to you, GO GIRL GO!

By the way, the reason I went into the advisement center yesterday was to apply for graduation. Yep. You heard it here first, I am set to graduate in April 2008. Yes, that is exactly the 20 year anniversary of the end of my freshman year at BYU. Crazy. I went and looked at my transcript today and I think when it is about time for me to graduate I will post about my checkered past with BYU. I would love to give a speech at graduation, encouraging all nontraditional students to take heart in their abilities and never give up. Of course, once administration took one look at my low GPA from 1988, they would never consider me. It was bad, trust me.

I am fighting chronic fatigue at the moment and I think it may have something to do with not eating very well, in addition to the less than desirable amount of sleep I have been getting lately. I know when I stay on WW that I feel better and have more energy. I need to channel my frustration into motivation and get the heck on the ball.

Welcome to the mental meanderings of a nontraditional student.

peace out.

Three and one-half hours ahead of schedule

You read it right, I am done, done, done!!! I took my Biology test around 12:30 today and got an 88%, which is 2% above the average for my class, so far at least. The great news about this is, I may have mentioned this before, that with my extra credit I can pretty much add 10 points to my score, giving me an A for this test. The extra credit isn't official until I actually do it, but if you think I am NOT going to do it at this point you are loca en la cabesa.

I also took my History 202 midterm. I was so very worried about this one. Stressed out to the max. (don't you love that expression, "to the max") Anyway, we got three questions to answer in essay format, I got to pick the two I wanted to answer, and I THINK I NAILED IT! We were supposed to write 3-5 pages, and were told that if we didn't have that much we could never expect an A. I wrote 6 pages on each essay. I didn't count until I was done and I was blown away by my own intelligence.

Okay, I am going to stop now and take a moment to thank Heavenly Father. I was praying pretty hard before I went into these tests. Please let me remember what I have studied. The best example of this was when I was done with my history test. There was one guys name I couldn't remember and I sat there for a minute and all of a sudden it came to me, John Locke. Don't ever think that Heavenly Father isn't interested in all aspects of your life, because he is.

Thanks for all the great support I got, but especially to Harold, Amy, Justin, Savannah and Mackson. I couldn't have done it without you. I love you!!! (yes, I love you too Justin) Big hugs and kisses to you all (yes, even Justin)

I have the hugest grin on my face.

p.s. I also have 2 out of my 3 page paper written to turn in tomorrow, biology. Could life get any better than this?

Studying stinks because.....

1. My poor little brain has had 9 years since I took a class on campus to shrink to the size of a pea.

2. After hours of organizing my notes my little pea brain feels like it is going to explode. It is like when you put a raisin into boiling water, eventually the raisin expands and doesn't look at all like its former self. Think bloated raisin.

3. I have run my fingers through my hair so much that it has started to look like a limp dishrag.

4. My back hurts from bending over this darn laptop.

5. I have about 34 pages of typewritten notes going over such topics as the French Revolution, American Revolution, Europe's position of hegemony in the 16th century, classicism, the scientific revolution, slave trade, etc. etc. And I cannot possibly remember everything in those notes. Why can't it be an open note test? Sometimes teachers do that, and I would rock on this test because I have been an excellent note taker. Maybe begging would help? Doubt it.

6. It is now 9:58 p.m. and I need some down time from studying, but it is too late because I have to wake up at 5:30. I have a whopping two days to get all this history crap into my head, oh and I failed to mention that my biology midterm is also in two days. My poor, poor pea brain.

Other than the above six reasons that studying stinks, life is pretty good. The only way I get myself through tough times like this is to say "In exactly 48 hours I will be feeling SOOOOOOO good!"

Catcha then!

Conference Weekend

I sat down in English class today and a girl walked in behind me saying, "Our weekend is stolen," and then proceeded to tell us she lived outside of Utah growing up and went to conference on Sunday but wasn't aware that we were supposed to go on Saturday too. Okay, that's interesting. As you know, I am not a Utah native either but I was aware that conference is a two-day event for everyone. However, I sometimes begrudgingly participate in the Saturday sessions, okay a lot of times I do that. For some reason it has always been difficult for me to sit through 8 hours of church in one weekend. I know the men do 10 hours, but I did my time last week during Women's Conference so in a way the women have it easier because we can get a little extra credit before conference weekend even starts. I always end up really glad that I listened to the whole thing, but it has always been difficult for me.

Today in the Twilight Zone (BYU's version of a 7-11) I was buying my breakfast and watched a checkout girl give her phone number to a guy in line. Both checkout girls were giggling quite a while after he left so I asked my checker, "Did that other checkout girl just give that guy her phone number?" She replied, "Yes, but he had to ask for it again because the last time he asked she only gave him her name on the paper." This explains why I heard her say earlier to the boy in question "Sorry (giggle, giggle) I must have been so excited that I forgot."

The boy and girl actually look alike so I definitely see a future for them, because as we all know we marry people that look like us. I am not sure the exact reasoning behind this but as I thought about it today I decided it must be because we all really like the way we look so if we marry someone who looks like us it is the ultimate vanity, because now we can look at ourselves for eternity.

One of my English professors spent most of today's class cracking himself up. He just kept on chuckling to himself for practically the whole 50 minutes. He is pretty opinionated about the stories we read, but he is pretty funny to listen to. He also plotted out a whole short story he is going to write, right there in class. The funny thing is, I have that short story in my head already. It is about an LDS boy who does naughty things (and by that I mean word of wisdom things) during the week and then proceeds to bless the sacrament on Sunday. The reason I have this in my head already is because I had this happen to me once. I went to a youth activity and while walking on the beach with a guy friend of mine he offered me pot. Might I mention that is the one and only time I was EVER offered drugs? Anyway, I politely said no, but then he proceeded to let my inactive friend who I was trying to activate have some and I had to take her home stoned. That Sunday he blessed the sacrament and I wondered for a long time whether or not the sacrament was okay for me to take or whether it was tainted by his indiscretions. (I have since realized that it is my worthiness to take the sacrament that I need to worry about, not the priest who blesses it.)

I have been considering trying to write a short story or two. Sometimes I think my blog entries can count toward the effort because it takes me so little time to yammer on about nothing. Unfortunately you can't really print out my blog entries and really study them, highlight great sentences with a really deep meaning and make notes in the margin. Maybe I would be better at writing newspaper articles since I am a what-you-see-is-what-you-get kinda girl. Who knows. I am almost 38 years old and I still don't know what I want to do with my life (by that I mean career, since I have to have a career, financially speaking). Any suggestions?

Slice of Life

I am shocked to think that there are people out there who have so little faith in me. I did not, I repeat, did not skip class today. I thought about it, I weighed my options, I remembered the last experience with skipping and I went to class. All of them. I did not give in and go to lunch with Harold and Dale (and Cory). So, Harold, Dale and Britty you can all just take your low opinion of me and (fill in the blank). Okay, in an effort at fairness it was Harold and Britty who were sure that I would skip today. Dale was only the evil temptor. Before I get too high and mighty, let me just tell you that I didn't read his blog comment until after I got home from class, otherwise the temptation might have been overwhelming.

Just for reference sake I should probably define who the above offenders are:
Harold-My sweet husband.
Britty-Harold's sister.
Dale-Harold's cousin (I know he is a first cousin once removed but I hate writing all that when no one really understands it anyway.)

I wonder if my own flesh and blood family would expect the same bad behavior out of me. Hmmm. Any blood relatives out there who would like to comment?

Turns out my English prof wasn't feeling good and ended class 15 minutes after it started. He was also going to give a quiz which he showed us but didn't make us take. I would have aced that dang thing. Darn it. So far in that class we have only taken two quizzes, one of which I missed and the other I practically failed. I am a little worried about my grade in there.

Since I had some extra time before my carpool left campus I ended up spending most of my free time with Dale, sitting on a bench in front of a sign that advertised the Pre-Med Club. Apparently both Dale and I look like Pre-Med majors because we started getting questions.

Here is a little note to Dane (another first cousin once removed): I saw you on campus today. I even got a look at the elusive Bridget. Alas, you were so busy addressing every single friend who walked by that I could never get my foot into the proverbial door enough for you to acknowledge me. Yes, I was sitting on that Pre-Med bench I mentioned but not even a glance my way. "Sorry we weren't able to take your call, please leave a message!" So I am.

Puzzled

Help me out here. Most people who read this blog have either graduated from college/university or have at least attended one class there. When an English professor assigns a paper, how many drafts do you go through? Let me be completely honest with you...I do MAYBE 3 drafts. More than likely two drafts. I turned in my first page of a paper to an English professor on Friday and today in class he basically acted completely distraught that our papers were so "first draft." Okay, I'll admit it, mine was a first draft. Even as I was handing in the first page of my first draft I saw some things I wanted to change, but he was just going to go over the papers and offer advice. I had no idea that he would be so gravely disappointed in me. If the paper is an end of term paper, or going to be graded more heavily for whatever reason, i.e. research paper, I will put forth more effort and go through more drafts. He was so worried about us that he gave us an extra week to complete our papers. He is also going to meet with each of this week (on a volunteer only basis....yea right!) so that he can go over our paper with us.

Here is my goal: For every Tues and Thurs that I have (which are my homework days) between now and when the paper is due I will re-work my paper. This essentially means that by the time I turn in my paper I will turn in draft #5. I'll let you know my grade and if I get above an 88% I will be a convert to the five-draft paper. If not, forget it! Because I generally get an 88% on all papers. For some reason I have barrier that I have reached in my paper writing and I can't get past it, but I rarely go below it either.

On a side note: Why do girls wear high heels on campus? Are they building their own Rameumpton with their shoes? I cannot figure this phenomenon out. In addition, they wear tight leggings and oversized shirts (mind you they are nice shirts) with the heels. I know this is a fashion trend at the moment, but OUCH! I wore semi-heeled shoes one day, about 1.5 inches, but they were espadrille type shoes and by the time lunch came around I was buying Band-Aids at the Twilight Zone. By the time I got home I was nursing a fairly serious blister. I am looking at the scar on my left foot as I write this. Not all girls on campus are this silly, but advice to my college-age-first-cousins-once-removed-in-law who are on the same campus as I: DO NOT DATE THE SILLY GIRLS! They will not be allowed in my house for Sunday dinners. Consider yourself warned.