ohh snap....in the privates?

This almost makes me want to bear children....almost..

The best medicine.....

"There is a story about the Greek Gods; they were bored so they invented human beings, but they were still bored so they invented love, then they weren't bored any longer. So they decided to try love for themselves. And finally, they invented laughter, so they could stand it."
— Feast of Love

Logan-ia

I went to Logan this weekend to cover what seems like my 4,621st college graduation. But this time it was different. Too different. After you spend 5 years living in Logan and going to Utah State you can't go 3 minutes without seeing someone you know. Even two and three years after I graduated, the minute I set toe on campus social hour was on and crackin. But this time nobody even looked familiar and not one person yelled out my name. An entire four story building where I used to attempt to study is just a parking lot now. Buildings and shopping centers have popped up in areas that I didn't even know existed and the tree near Moen hall is gone where we attempted to carve our names right before we were fined by our R.A.
But after taking a small nostalgic lap around campus the memories came flying back...or screaming back in some cases. There is still the rut in the sidewalk near the Ray B. West where, when I was on crutches, a crutch got stuck and I went tumbling down. There is the stone bench outside of Animal Sci that Tyler waited for me on every other day to walk me to lunch and the fountain Josh and I went wading in one night when we got a wild hair. People still talk about Aggie ice cream like its an alternative fuel. The big "hang out" table in the Hub, which I blame for single handedly coercing me into skipping most of my classes sophomore year resulting in a g.p.a. I am too ashamed to disclose and thus prompting the birth of my mantra "Cs get degrees" is still there. And I even visited the gut-ripping slab of sidewalk I avoided for two years, where I first saw my first one-and-only hand-in-hand with his new one-and-only a mere four weeks after the carnage. (I did not however continue the memory lane side-path to the Geology Building's basement where I ran to that day to blubber for 30 minutes after the sighting.)
The boys in Logan are still, as a whole, a little lurpy but seemingly kind-hearted and a lot of them still drive jeeps. People still park inappropriately in the driveway of my old apartments (ya Carly, that's right. INAPPROPRIATE) and the traffic on main street still makes me want to kick puppies. Hippies still abound so it's probably safe to say they are still banging their drums whenever they get a chance. And last but not least the Baugh Motel — the place where about 10 of us were surrounded by four police cars, caught in the hot tub and subsequently slapped with criminal trespassing charges — is still there and in it's same seedy form.
But its true. Logan was never really "me." It was a hell of a clambake while I was there but Salt Lake became more of a home even after just a year than Logan ever really was. Even so, make no mistake about it — I bleed Aggie blue.

PEEVES!!!!!!!

Ok so Amelia's post got me so friffed up that I needed to add a few pet peeves of my own to her very agreeable list of annoyances....

SNIFFERS — People who are two inches away from a box of tissues or who could easily go to the restroom and ummm, clear out the sinuses but instead choose to sit there and sniff, making the gurgley, mucus-y sound that all but gives you a visual of the goo that is no doubt running down their throat.

HIGH FIVERS — see previous blog entry

PAPER CUTS — The most insulting of injuries. How can such a simple and barely visible slit cause such nagging pain? The least they could do was bleed significantly. It's a slap in the face if you ask me.

BOX ELDER BUGS — These are the little jerks of the bug family. They don't bite, they don't sting and they don't really offend. But they are there.... and everywhere, in the late fall. But when you kill them you feel like a bully because they never really did anything to you. So they annoy you to act rashly and then when you smash them you feel bad about yourself. They play mind games and it's unacceptable.

CLOSE-TALKERS — It's a self explanatory term and we all know them. The ones I know always seem to be shorter than me so I feel like they are looking up my nose. They make you want to climb the wall, but most of them are crafty and rarely is there an escape. I swear they linger near elevators.


PEOPLE ASKING WHAT YOU ARE EATING (made even worse when asked by a close talker) - I don't know that I have EVER in my life cared what someone else ordered, made, or brought for a meal. But there are always those people who can spot you from 3 miles away and will fight fire and dragons to come over and say "watcha got there?" Two things. a) you have eyes...look down and see for yourself. Why do I have to tell you when it is clearly evident. b) Why do you care? Do you want some? Did you need a bite? Are you going to run out and whip up the exact same thing? If the answer is no to all the above then why do you care. And while we are on the subject.... saying mmmmmmm after you find out what I am eating is for what? Is it your stamp of approval? Am I suppose to say thanks or give you an agreeable thumbs up? I don't know what you want and I don't understand you people so I thank you to keep your distance.


OVER PRONOUNCED Rs and OVER-USED GLOTTAL STOPS — I may as well have just said the Cache Valley or Central Utah accent but I am nothing if not specific. This is a hard one to explain...I suppose it is how the Supreme Court defined obscenity: you know it when you see it ( or hear it in this case). But I gar'ntee that if you go to a local gas station in rural Idaho or Utah or talk to the townies in Logan you are going to hear the over-pronounce Rs and glottal stops. The latter of the two is somewhat easier to define. Webster says a glottal stop is "a speech sound articulated by a momentary, complete closing of the glottis in the back of the throat." Some choose to use it to replace Ts all together...its commonly used in the terms eatin', moun'n, Layt'n, hunt'n, beat'n. You get the point. The glottal stop over-users also are prone to pronouncing the days of the week like Mondee, Tuesdee, Wednesdee etc.

PARENTS WHO THINK THAT YOU THINK THEIR CHILDREN, WHO ARE HOLY TERRORS, ARE CUTE — OK, so you are in the shopping line and some crappy looking kid with popsicle-stained cheeks and a boogery nose is right behind you "standing" with his "mother." He then grabs a hold of the cart and pushes it into your butt. You alarmingly turn around and you get this calm, knowing look from the mom...a look that says "isn't he so cute, he's just at that age where they slam carts into your thigh." She then expects you to return the knowing look that says "oh kids, they are just a treasure, don't worry about the already-developing contusion he just inflicted....assault on perfect strangers is just a part of childhood." Well Momma....you are never going to get that look, not from me. If I had it my way you wouldn't bring Junior out in public until he was 12 and even then on a limited basis. But if you must, I thank you to not assume that I share your oblivious and blind endearment of your child's poor behavior.

I could go on but like Amelia I am too riled. Please feel free to share your own...