My Secret Revealed

While dropping half my onion chunks and sauerkraut strands off my

J-Dawg the other day, I admitted to my friend Joel my secret ambition to become a successful (read: widely read and generously sponsored) blogger. He wisely gave me a few tips.

Joel's Guide to Becoming

a Successful Blogger

1) Be a cute (or bangin?) indie chick.

2) Be married (preferably to an equally indie husband).

3) Have a perfect life (preferably living in an apartment in a trendy major city)

4*) Own a dog.

See the following examples:

A Cup of Jo

pretty/married/writer for Glamour/NYC/no dog but pregnant

Rockstar Diaries

cute and SUPER indie/married/stylist freelancer/DC/dog named Kingsley

Bleubird Vintage

bangin and also SUPER indie/married with 2 kids + pregnant/designer and vintage collector for her own vintage-inspired store

Color Me Katie

cute and artsy-hipster/lives with boyfriend (close enough)/freelance photographer and street artist/Brooklyn/cat named Moo (also close enough)

Did I/Joel miss anything?

I suppose it's a reasonable how-to list.

I'll get started I guess.

Any suggestions for what dog to get?

*Bonus

Onslaught

Seriously people.

Can somebody explain to me how an utter tiredness of life can full develop in a matter of mere hours?

I've had my share of Scottish indie bands and chills and sleep and eggplant and modern sadness and empathy and not knowing how to communicate but trying to anyway. I can't help but feel entitled to more.

A cripple walks amongst you, all you tired human beings

He's got all the things a cripple has: not two working arms and legs

And vital parts fall from his system and dissolve in Scottish rain

Vitally he doesn't miss them, he's too [messed] up to care

Well, this is how we do things now

This is how the modern stay scared

So I cut out all the good stuff

I cut off my foot to spite my leg

Is that you in front of me,

Coming back for even more of exactly the same?

You must be a masochist

To love a modern leper on his last leg.

"To love makes one solitary, she thought."

Mrs. Dalloway, Virginia Woolf

I am: the Subatu Saboteur!

This is how I spend my weekends:

Well, at least that's what I was up to two weekends ago.

I presented at the BYU Writing Tutors Conference

2010 Area Meeting of the Rocky Mountain Tutoring Centers Peer Tutoring Conference

(seriously, how much more impressive and resume-worthy is that name).

Chloe, Lauren, and I talked about the importance of sabotaging Subatus (read: suggestion-based-tutorials).

We had light and sound effects, costume changes, and led interesting (we hope) conversations about tutoring approaches with tutors from the Writing Center, FHSS lab, and the Writing Fellows.

And now I know how to spell sabotage.

Thanks to Kylie for taking the pictures!

PS: Check out the Writing Center Podcast! Where else can you listen to episodes about latrinalia (bathroom graffiti), Grammar Nazis, and blogging? Newest episode: Valentine's day Love/Hate poetry.

Quotidiana?

I'm in a writing nonfiction class this semester, and we've been focusing a lot on finding the extraordinary in the everyday mundane. I feel like blogging about my life would accomplish just that. And I mean real blogging. Not once-a-month blogging about random things, but talking about seemingly boring things about my life blogging. Let's try this out.

For dinner the other night I made tonkatsu for me and B [B = boy. Or Brian.] They're breaded pork chops and I presented it all pretty on top of cabbage and tomatoes and it was delicious.

B tried to thank me for dinner but it was kind of awkward.

Oh well. He's cute anyway.

Next step in this blogging business: get a better camera. And learn Photoshop.

Holes

Life Lesson of the Week:

Do not wear chunky rings when you're wearing fishnets and you pee an average of 3 times an hour.

Pretty holes

Unpretty holes

-7 years

me: Look! i bought a whole thing of peanuts! I just added 7 years to my life! I just bought seven years of life!

boy: Yeah, but only if you bought unsalted peanuts. Honey roasted ones won't do that.

me: . . . But they're so good!

Maybe I'll live at least 5 years longer now.

I've had J Dawgs burps for three hours.

I had lunch at J Dawgs with my freshman roommate today! I love catching up with her and I love that she was my roommate (her not judging me for my expletive-laced language, her not worrying about me when I randomly didn't come home on the weekends, and her wire basket contraption around our fridge.)

You really get to know someone when you live in an cement-walled, eight-foot-wide cubicle.

She's a friend who I can not see for months but then when we see each other we'll pick up right where we left off.

I just realized I don't think I have ANY pictures of us together anymore since they were on my computer when the hard drive died on me and I lost everything on it a couple of years ago.

And then later I ran into some other girls from my freshman dorm, and my goodness they are just two of the most Beautiful people I know. The kind of girls who are so kind and brilliant and creative and funny and pretty that they make me damn jealous and make me want to hate them but I can't because they emanate too much goodness that I just want them to like me.

Oh, and apparently someone else on campus has stolen my identity except for she's a TA for a rock climbing class. Who knew? Identity theft is not a joke!

And some of my favorite people I know from freshman year are coming home from their missions this year!

Goodness, two years go by fast.