Is it just me?

Okay I've been pondering this all semester, but I am at a complete loss. What's the point of Daylight Savings time? Maybe Indiana and Arizona have had a point all along. And perhaps this is coming to greater significance as I am nearing that one day of the year where I lose yet another hour of sleep--but this time completely unproductively (okay that does assume that my late nights here at college are always productive, which may be a bit of a leap).

But no, really, I've been thinking about this. No matter what, in winter it's dark a lot. That's kind of the nature of the beast--or rather the earth's orbit of the sun. So even if we did wake up an hour earlier and it was darker that much longer in the morning at least it would theoretically be lighter for another hour in the evening. And I don't feel that a moved hour of light would really have a great affect on our agriculture, since they really are getting the exact same amount of light. And for all those "I hate waking up when it's dark" people, I think we should just go 1930s-40s Britain and tell them resolutely that they musn't grumble, stiff upper lip, and all that. Let's just save all of us the confusion and hassle of changing clocks, schedules, et cetera and not change back next November. We'll just take the hit and move our lives to an hour earlier and the farmers will still get all their essential light needs.

The only potential flaw I see with this plan is that somewhere, somehow we may have an extra hour floating around in the cosmos. But I'm sure you'll all agree that we can put that hour to good use to procrastinate when we hit the real, metaphorical eleventh hour. Probably at the point I'll have some housecleaning that still needs to get done.

Who's with me? We have congressmen (okay, congresspeople, sheesh) to write, so let's get busy.

Deductive Reasoning

Try and figure that subject/title out! Right at this very moment I am doing what my Magazine Editing textbook told me not to do when in my reading yesterday, which is use inside-out logic (the relationship of said Title to this post--you still with me?). Actually now that I think about it, I just did it in that sentence too. Sorry! Luckily this isn't a magazine.

Family members often ask me why I don't post on my blog more frequently, or at the very least regularly. There are actually several reasons for this. For one I do write weekly updates in the form of emails that I send to my missionary brother every Monday. But to tell you the truth my weeks are boring and frequently involve one or more of my blog readers. And so I must look beyond my day to day activities to find blogworthy events! Sometimes I sit on an idea for a week, occasionally even a month, or two as I try to decide if it is sufficiently humorous or thought provoking for its very own blog post.

What? You didn't realize my blog was funny? Oh, you didn't realize you'd been waiting this long just to read that? I know. Alas sometimes things that seem so witty and well rounded as I write become really quite flat when they are translated to the computer screen. Its a sad fact and I think physics is to blame. Anyway, it is this that brings me to one of the main reasons you often go days, weeks, and months at a time with nary a word: I am an insecure blogger.

I don't know quite why this is. When it comes to writing papers that I'm actually graded on I'm hardly ever daunted and can turn them in on deadline. But when it comes to the informality of blogging the three-year-old inside of me suddenly surfaces. I've just finished with my "beautiful" project and now I want to know what all of my friends and family members think of it. Often I find myself sneaking back to check my blog for comments as soon as I've finished writing and posting a new piece. I'll do it each time I log on for email or when I make my daily blog circuit. And each time "The Oxford Comma" appears on the monitor that metaphoric three-year-old is reflected back at me--looking for acclamation.

I also suffer from poster's remorse. This is directly related to the dead humor of my "funny" blogposts. Sure it seems funny while I'm writing it, but on one of those sneak backs I suddenly realize how very unfunny what I've written is and then I wish I'd never posted it in the first place. So I treat this the same way I do my shoppers remorse--I simply post nothing.

Are you all feeling a little more illuminated about my psychology? Don't worry too much despite all these issues I seem to get through each day without too many problems. Although yesterday I was suddenly seized by shoe fever, and even now I can hardly keep myself from going out and picking up a new pair of shoes with the money I just earned doing another few little freelance editing jobs.

Apologies

Dear friends,

Today I fell victim to the fluorescent lighting in my bedroom. While the pants I put on at 7:15 seemed to coordinate with stripes in my shirt surprisingly well, as soon as I glanced down while I was walking into the JFSB on campus the natural light gave way to an unwelcome discovery. They really don't go together at all! So if you see me on campus today, feel free to act as if we've never met--I myself am ashamed of my egregious fashion faux pas.

Lindsay



Sadly, this is far from this first time this has happened. I think I was born with some form of fashion colorblindness

At least I'm not Aughra yet

I'm not exactly sure when it happened, but this week I realized that I've become a podling.



No, not exactly in a Dark Crystal kind of way. Though here's a brief side note. Last semester when I used Labyrinth as an example for our EFR demos I discovered that both The Dark Crystal and Labyrinth were extremely disturbing movies to many of the people in our generation. I, on the other hand, have never been afraid of or disturbed by either of them--even when I was a child. What does that say about me?

Anyway, what I really mean is that I've become one of those people who will walk up to or around campus with earbuds firmly in place. When, how, and why did this happen? I can still recall wandering about as a freshman and wondering why 64% of the student body went about plugged into their ipods, 34% were talking on cell phones, and the remaining 2% were just clueless. Even once I got my cell phone and occassionally found myself walking and talking I took comfort that I at least was doing a participatory activity. Alas, now I too have fallen prey to the convenience of the ipod. Well, I justify and rationalize, at least I'm often listening to books on CD/ipod. At least that's educational, right? Hopefully, now that I'm aware of this penchant, I wont end up like this.



Another quick thought. I think that Apple and Google are slowly taking over the country and perhaps even the world. I mean I for one, and I think I am probably representative of many, never read what I agree to when I'm downloading a new version of iTunes or things off of google. As far as I know I've already signed away my first twenty children. However, I think that far from being upset we'll all be excited when they finally announce themselves to the world. The brightside? At least we'll all get naptime like the google employees do now. I can live with a world like that.

You Make Me Feel Like Dancing

I don't know if you're all aware--that is the two people who still read this thing since my updates have been rather irregular lately--but today at about 10:50 an interesting phenomenon occurred. As I was walking out of the Richards Building (RB) following my workout, which incidentally is not the aforementioned irregularity thank you very much, I was suddenly seized by an extremely powerful desire to dance down the hall.

Now those of you who know me may attest to the unlikelihood of that particular impulse; indeed, many of you may never have seen me dance at all. Contrary to the belief of certain of my high school peers, this is not the result of an Amish/Footloose-like aversion to dance. Rather it is the firm self-awareness in my own lack of grace and inability on the dance floor. I can find the rhythm all right, I just tend to be self-consciously inhibited. Yet there I was, minding my own business and all the time struggling amidst the throngs to keep from bobbing conspicuously. I'm sure that if I had succumbed the sight of a student grooving down the hall wouldn't really have caused too much of a rucous. Probably it would have generated a few smiles here and there (or a shock and bewildered amusement if any of my particular acquaintance had been present). Alas I'm not quite brave enough, however.

So what is the cause of my jitterbug--as even now as I type this anyone who was watching me would have noticed more than a little head bobbing, rhythmic chair swiveling, and shoulder shrugging. The other night I compiled a new playlist--I'm sure I was procrastinating something or other--of all those songs on my iPod that are the one or two in an album that I really like but never seem to listen too. So today after I finished my book on CD while I was cleaning computers I scrolled down to it and I have been dancing internally ever since.

Incidentally, the post-y items I should have written, but neglected

I am working an internship on campus this semester that apparently I have neglected to inform many people about. That's about it really. I edit 10 hours a week for Intercultural Outreach, a program through the Kennedy Center that publishes CultureGuides on various countries so elementary and high school students can learn more about them. By the way, did you know that in Germany breakfast is the first meal of the day? Those tricky Germans. (that is a paraphrase of an actual sentence in the CultureGuide I am currently working on. Needless to say I changed that one around a bit as I think even elementary school kids could have ascertained as much).

I am still working 20 hours a week in the computer lab. I also am working on an independent computer project for a faculty member this semester that requires a minimum of 6 hours every week and is completely unpaid. Also I took my first freelance editing job this week.

Last Friday while I was trying to stay awake during a sitar demonstration I was attending (it really was interesting, just my early morning schedule this semester + the end of the week means I'm pretty tired Friday afternoons) I tried to calculate how many hours a week I am obligated to church, school, work, internship, etc... then I added in my new workout schedule, temple attendance, and other worthy if time exhaustive events. I think I got to just over 100 without considering sleep or food preparations, but then I lost track.

Oh yeah, I have a new church calling this semester. Apparently in this ward they release everyone at the end of each semester--even if you're staying in the ward--and issue new callings. I'm a Relief Society teacher and I'm really loving it. It's a nice little bookend to my college experience, as the last time I was a Relief Society teacher was Freshman year in what I still refer to as "Practice Relief Society."

It turns out I have a very steady hand and innate skill for torching Creme Brulee. I meant Creme Brulee to be in the plural, but I don't know what the correct plural form is because its French. Though, as I told several people at the Creme Brulee event, Creme Brulee isn't french at all. It was invented by the English cooks at Oxford where traditionally it came from the fruits of yeomen who had skimmed the cream off of their overlord's cows' milk. Somewhat ashamed at the sneak thievery of its origins, however, they gave it a french name to make it sound more legitimate. And if you were wondering, clotted cream isn't really English. It came from the Middle East with the tin merchants a long, long time ago. Which could lead me off on a tangent about Christ's supposed family in England and Henry VIII's legitimacy as a soveriegn and an evangelical leader, but I'll spare you.