Seattle Picture of the Day

I don't really have time to run down the entire trip, but I'll post little snippets and pictures of it as time allows. Seattle was fabulous. The weather was gorgeous, the city was beautiful, and all of my plans worked out exactly as I hoped. Each of my well-researched choices turned out to be even better than I imagined, and I had a wonderful, wonderful weekend.

So here's your first little picture.

One of the things I did on my trip was to visit a few museums. This particular piece of art was in a huge outdoor park that was maybe a mile away from my hotel. I walked down and spent a bit of time walking around the art. There were some really interesting sculptures there, but one of my favorite parts was that there were signs all over the place telling you not to touch the sculptures. I found this in the museums I visited as well. There were signs everywhere: "Please do not touch the art."

I have no desire to touch the art. I understand that touching the art is inappropriate.

But when people put a sign out there and tell me not to touch the art, it makes me want to touch the art.

I resisted. I'm so grown up.

Here are a few more pictures from the sculpture garden:

I liked this one. All of the sculptures in this park are huge. This one is one of the smaller ones. It's probably my height. The waves in the first picture in the posting are really, really large. They're easily twice my height--probably closer to thrice my height. Completely fabulous.

This one is massive. You can see the people standing around it in this particular shot--that's why I picked it. I loved this park. In a lot of ways, it's like a regular park (grass, walking trail right by the water), but then there will just be this GIANT sculpture as you're walking along. So cool...

This one cracks me up. I cannot remember what it is supposed to be. I thought it was a wheel, but the little description said it was something else that surprised me. I'll have to look it up and get back to you. Anyway, I just love this one. The artist had deep meaning in it, but it just makes me smile. It's pretty big, too.

All in all, it was a very cool park. I had seen the park online before I went on my trip, but I had assumed that it was too out of the way in relation to the other places I was going. I ended up there by accident when I was just walking around one evening. I ended up walking over some hilly miles to get back to my hotel, but it was worth it.

I'm Back!

I took my little trip this weekend, and I survived. Shocking, I know...

Where did I go, you might ask? Was it the sharks? The middle east? The bungee jumping?

Sadly, you're about to be disappointed.

What was the trip that struck fear into the hearts of my friends and neighbors?

Congratulations to the three of you who correctly identified my trip as something else horrifying altogether. I went to Seattle.

Holding Pattern

It seems like the last few weeks have been filled with waiting. Waiting for the semester to be over, waiting for finals to end, waiting for Captain Awesome to have surgery, waiting for the surgeon, waiting for the Captain to start feeling better, waiting for change, waiting, waiting, waiting...waiting might be the wrong word--it's more like surviving.

Today should be a day of rest. I can't relax. I can't focus. School starts again on Wednesday. I am not looking forward to another semester. I want it to be over so badly.

This semester, I have two classes, both from the same teacher. The courses have been described as the most difficult in the school of business, as well as the most time-consuming. Even my advisor told me not to take other courses while I was taking these two, even though they only total 4 credits. I am complying, largely because I am finished with all of the other requirements. What's even more worrisome is that, from everyone I've talked to, I've heard that if you must take the classes, you should not take them from one specific instructor. As the universe would have it, I don't have any other options. I must take the courses from him. He has been described as not only a difficult instructor, but simply not a good person. I'm sure there's goodness in him somewhere, but apparently, it's buried deep, DEEP down where no one has ever seen it. Hopefully, I won't feel that way about him, but I certainly worry.

So I wait. Waiting, waiting, waiting.

Waiting. Surviving. Somehow.

86ish days to go.

Same Waiting, Different Place

After three and a half hours of sitting in his little room in his little dress, Captain Awesome finally got to go back and have his gallbladder removed. A little over an hour later, the surgeon came out to let me know that everything went really well.

So now I sit in the same day surgery waiting room, waiting for him to be doing well enough that they can wheel him to a recovery room where I can join him.

I am the only person in this waiting room. Everyone else has gotten to go home--that's how long we've been here.

At least I have privacy.

Waiting, Sweetheart

My little brother (Captain Awesome) and I are sitting in same day
surgery waiting for his surgeon to come in and get going.

Until then, we've been having some interesting conversations. An
example:

CA: Someone had better say "stat" or I'm going to feel ripped off.
Like when we're rolling down the hall, I want him to yell, "20 cc's of
fun--STAT!"

Me: Where did you hear that?

CA: No where. I just think fun is important for my surgeon to have.

Me: I suppose that's true.

CA: 20 cc's of fun would go a long way.

--------------------------------------

Another example:

CA: Goooogle. It has a lot of "o"s in it. Like "gooooooogle crisp."

We've been laughing like crazy. What makes it all the funnier is that
he isn't even medicated yet.

We just have the sleep-deprived giggles, I suspect.

Defying Death

Because I have a little break in between semesters, I decided that I was going to take a vacation. I haven't really mentioned it to very many people because I'm a pretty private person, and I haven't posted it here on this blog because I've been extremely busy and, frankly, it's strange to have the entire world know you're going on vacation. I'm weird like that. Don't judge me.

But back to the subject at hand. I'm going on vacation. It's a vacation I've wanted to take for a long time, and I'm really looking forward to it.

In an effort over the past few weeks to be more open with those in my life and try to connect with people, since I've been pretty disconnected for the past few semesters, I told a couple of people about my vacation plans.

It's important to remember here that my vacation is already booked. There's no turning back now.

I told my hair dresser. She was initially happy for me getting to go on vacation, but then shocked and disturbed when she found out what the vacation entailed.

I told a couple of my coworkers. They were distressed and concerned that I would take such a vacation.

I've decided to stop telling people. That includes you--I will not be disclosing the details of my vacation until I return so as to not panic anyone further.

So why am I telling you this much and leaving you in suspense? Because I can.

Actually, there's a poll to the right. I'm curious as to what you think my terrifying vacation plans are. When I'm back from my undisclosed vacation on an undisclosed date, I'll fill you in on the details.

Hello, World!

Last night, I aced the final in my hardest class. Tomorrow, I'll take an online final and then get studying for my last final which is Wednesday night. The end of the semester is in sight, and I could not be more excited about it.

Who else could not be more excited about it? My TiVo. My poor, poor TiVo has been sadly neglected for the past few months. Every now and then, I turn it on to discover that it is full and doesn't feel it can record anything else. I am several months behind on most shows and have had to cut back to only the shows I really care about so as to have TiVo space.

It's a rough life, clearly.

Hopefully, TiVo and I will get to spend some quality time together this weekend as I pack for my vacation.

MIA

I had great plans for a thrilling, witty, charming blog post when I passed the 100 day mark on my graduation countdown.

That ship sailed a few days ago. I was not feeling witty or charming. It's been busy.

I'm sorry that I've been missing. I'll be back soon.

I have 18 credits this semester. So far, I've completed 8 of them, and I'm fairly confident that I passed both courses. Today, I'll complete another 4 credits. This weekend, I'll do 3 more, and then on Wednesday, the 29th, I'll take the final for the last course.

I'll then have a couple of days off, and next semester will begin.

One of my friends is graduating at BYU today. I told him how incredibly jealous I was, and then I reminded him to iron his graduation gown/dress.

This is an important tip for anyone who is graduating this week or next week--you MUST open that package and get out that wrinkly little dress so that you can be ready for your square-hatted ritual.

Also, don't trip.

Hanging in There

It has been a long semester. In truth, it's been a long seven years. I'm feeling really ready to be done with school, but I still have a semester to go after this one. However, I'm feeling hopeful that next semester won't be so terrible.

Yesterday, I posted a picture of a flower that really reflected my current feelings about the universe in general. Somebody's Mother said that sometimes those flowers just perk right up the next day. I was intrigued by this idea. Could a frozen, smushed, defeated flower be back tomorrow to fight again?

I opened the door this morning:

The flower was gone, a victim of a freak mid-April snowstorm that dumped at least half a foot of snow in the path of everything anyone was trying to accomplish.

Trees were covered.

Some trees are a lost cause.

This evening, as I ate dinner with my family, I lamented over the lost flower, which would certainly be a victim of snow or an aggressive shovel or snow blower.

Somebody's Mother told me that, although the flower had been buried under a pile of snow, it was still intact.

I went to inspect, and sure enough, it's still there.

Sometimes, even snow and tools and all the harshness in the world can't keep a daffodil down. At least for today, it's still hanging in there.

Defeat

I hear ya, man...

Descriptions

Reading apartment listings is such a joy. So many of them are so poorly written that you really wonder about people.

Sometimes, people write something that is funny, and I'm left to wonder if it's intentionally funny or unintentionally funny.

Today's example? One apartment was described as "great and spacious."

Things You Hear at Work

Today, two of my coworkers were having an interesting conversation:

D: You have to confront the fear!
R: I tried! I tried to call in the stupid airstrike!


We work for a financial institution.

The Sophomore Strikes Back

Today, when the sophomore walked into class, she saluted the General.

It was one of the most awkward moments I've seen first hand.

That, my friends, is thousands of dollars of education totally paying off.

Holidays

I've said it before and I'll say it again: I love Easter candy. The one thing I really can't get on board with, year after year, is the Reester bunny. It's a Reese's candy shaped like a bunny. I could probably get on board with that, but the name is just not appetizing at all.

The one thing I am looking forward to this year is a honey-baked ham. They are my favorite. Many weeks ago, while I was out walking with somebody's mother, I was expressing my discouragement about life in general and school in particular. She skillfully distracted me with talk about my upcoming graduation party, which we have been planning for at least a year. It's not that we're big party planners or that it's a big party situation, but rather that it's nice to dream about being graduated.

As we discussed the particulars of the party, she asked what we should eat. I told her I wanted hamburgers. And corn. And french fries. And rootbeer. And honey-baked ham.

She said that the honey-baked ham would probably be better as a separate meal from the others. It's for rational thinking like this that I appreciate having a mother, since that would've been a pretty freaky meal.

So today, somebody's mother is going to pick up a mini-honey-baked ham for dinner on Sunday. She checked to see what else I wanted with it. I wanted sweet potatoes. She then called to make sure that there wasn't anything else I needed to have for the meal. I told her I wanted to eat a bunch of strawberries, too.

Done and done. Do you have a mother like that? (Well, if you're one of my siblings, then you do, but...)

Gotta love it.

An Open Letter

Dear Women of the World:

You should not wear short skirts. You just shouldn't. I don't care how much you work to have lovely legs or how much you think it makes men want you (for the record, it may make them want you, but I suspect it's not in the way you would want to be wanted).

Additionally, if you are over the age of 40, you should definitely not wear a mini skirt. If you are over the age of 50 and in one of my classes, please, please, for the sake of the rest of us, don't wear a mini skirt.

Simple rule for everyone: put on more clothing. It's easy to figure out how much more you need. The less fabric you have on you today, the more you should go home and add some to your outfit. Please. Right now. We'll wait.

Thanks in advance,

Liz

Wicked

Last night, I went to Wicked. Unlike most of the people I know, I've never seen it. Every time I mentioned that I was going to be going to Wicked, people told me about when they saw it in New York.

Do you know what I saw in New York? NOTHING. I've never been to New York. Stop bragging, people.

Regardless of all of that, the show was fabulous. Great production values, wonderful cast, excellent execution. On top of that, I had great dinner, and fabulous company.

Let's see New York beat that!

(Note: if New York did beat that, don't bother telling me about it. I'm pretty sure my night was better, anyway.)

Joys of Apartment Hunting

Things I've discovered while hunting for a new apartment:

• If you ever find the perfect apartment, it will be available at the wrong time. I'm guessing it's some sort of karma for something I've done in the past, but I'm not sure what. I need to bake cookies for someone to get my good karma back.
• I am ancient. I saw an apartment listing that was in an "older ward. Average age 22+." How is that an older ward? Older than people in high school???
• Once you've viewed apartment listings each day for about a week, you will have seen them all. In fact, you'll have seen some of them seven times. Or more.
• I've been looking for two bedroom apartments. Funny thing about the two bedroom apartments is that when I see one that has two bathrooms, I think, oh, I don't need two bathrooms--there's just one of me! Yet somehow, I do need two bedrooms. Go figure.

I do a lot of my apartment hunting on craigslist. I'm a big posting flagger. If you miscategorize, post something that is prohibited, or spam the board with your ads, I will get you. It keeps me entertained while I'm sifting through posts.

I may not be able to find a place to live - look for me in a cardboard box coming to a street near you any day now - but at least I'm helping the craigslist world one click at a time.

Mystery

Why is it so hard to write a paper about motivation?

Specifically, this paper is a literature review incorporating what my personal motivators are...

Why is it so hard to feel like doing it?

The General and the Sophomore

This is the night when I have the General's class. I refer to him as the General because he is a retired Air Force Major General. We're in the middle of a case study about an air force leadership situation.

There is one particular sophomore in the class who, bless her heart, says the strangest things in class. The things she says would be strange in any course, but she and a retired Air Force Major General really have different styles. This leads for delightful exchanges between the two of them on a very regular basis, as she tends to talk many times each week.

A sample:

General: The test will be available through Sunday night.

Sophomore: I don't want to do it on Sunday.

General: Well, it's available starting Wednesday, so you'll have to get it done before Sunday then.

Sophomore: But Sunday is Jesus's day.

General: Okay, but it's available starting Wednesday, so...uh...it'll be okay.

****************************

Another day:

General: And this is my personal phone number, if you need to get a hold of me.

Sophomore: So can I text you?

General: (long pause) I'm 75 years old. That's something I haven't gotten into.

****************************

Yet another delightful exchange:

General: So, Dr. Cooper [a guest speaker] will be here in on the 30th, so be sure to get the reading done.

Sophomore: Oooo!! Can we throw him a party or something?

General: (long, dismayed pause) No. Let's just...no.

****************************

In her self-introduction to the class:

Sophomore: I want to marry a doctor, and then we're going to start something like Operation Smile, but not Operation Smile because that's dentist, so maybe Operation Feet, but not feet, maybe Operation Legs. Yeah, Operation Legs.

Rest of class: (long, perplexed silence)

****************************

Today, we were looking at a picture of a particular fighter jet. A sample of the conversation:

Sophomore: Is there a reason it's camo?

General: Yes, it's camouflage.

Sophomore: Yeah, but why?

General: (pause) So that people can't see it.

Sophomore: In the air?

General: No, the sky isn't camouflage.

Sophomore: So...

General: The bottom is white.

Sophomore: (puzzled look...It was almost like she was going to point out that the sky was blue, but she didn't.)

****************************

Although I'm not really going to miss this class, she sure has been good for a gem or two each week.

Logic

I am participating in my favorite annual event: the apartment hunt.

Slowly, I creep through the bushes, stalking the best apartments at the best prices in preparation to pounce. If I am not careful, the current tenants may get a restraining order against me.

But I digress.

I saw an apartment listed today as "cozy" and "spacious." For those of you who do not shop for apartments as frequently as I do, "cozy" means small apartment with tiny closets. 

Thus, a cozy apartment, by its very nature, cannot be spacious.

Especially suspicious? No picture.

I'm thinking it's a refrigerator box. It may have been a large refrigerator, but still.

The hunt continues...