I wish goatlore was an actual thing

One of my most favorite things EVER: playing games in restaurants.

Basically, anywhere with ketchup on the table is free game.

I decided that my old person tendencies are alright with me, as long as when I’m actually and old person, I won’t have 18-year-old girl tastes.  But, then again, cougars and sugar mamas seem to be pretty content.

Moving on.

I’m really good and Bananagrams.  My vocabulary will break your femurs.

Seriously, I’m not even sure if I’m being metaphorical.

And this is a cool flower bed with the greeting-card-esque yellow flower that dares to be herself.  It's sort of precious.

So.  I’ve been absurdly happy lately.  I just sit and giggle with my happiness sometimes. And then I do the cha cha in my apartment. (no, seriously)

1.       No, it is not because of a boy (but that’s a fair assumption
2.      No, I’m not on any sort of rebalancing medications
3.      No, there really hasn’t been any sort of hallmark in the past week to could act as any reasonable cause
4.      I’m just really happy
5.      It’s kind of weird

In additional news, one time I was embarrassed.

The aliens-totally-exist class I take is kind of snoozy sometimes.  Not usually, but just on this particular exhausted Tuesday (sitting and giggling really takes it out of you I guess).  So I was nodding off next to my good friend Ana as she drew on my notes.  Unfortunately, this is nether unusual or all too embarrassing.

At one point during the snooze, my head leaning toward her, Ana tapped me awake and sort of frantically told me not to sleep on people. 

Since she is not the snuggly sort, I figured she was talking about herself.  With not enough consciousness to even be confused or heartbroken, I quickly slumped back asleep like a grown-up college student.

Later on that night in the apartment, Ana reaccounted to our other roommates the silly story of how I fell asleep on the big bro-man to my left and how he gently poked me to the right where I then slumped on Ana.

In retrospect, this was very obvious and embarrassing.  But also pretty chuckle-y.  So.

Also, him and his big fluffy coat were kind of asking for it, to be perfectly honest.

I’m not sure whether to seek him out and apologize or just be pretty darn bashful whenever entering the class…

And with this anecdote of my awkward lifestyle, I must prepare to leave on the marching band bus for our football game versus BYU (it's a little embarrassing how much last week's heartbreak has pumped me up).

 

And I didn't even turn into a fish

Upon one fateful Wednesday, my dear friend Dahlya and I ended up at a duck pond with leftover-lunch.  It was a super time feeding the ducks.  So super, in fact, that we decided to make it a weekly event.  Thus was the birth (berth?) of Waddle Waddle Wednesday.  With fish-based kitten food in hand, a group of us pals trekked weekly to Freestone park , sure that  the added zen would increase our test scores and sanity.  It was a good time. 

That is the past, unfortunately.  But a good past, indeed. 

 

Three months later, here up at college, Megan and I were sitting in our living area/kitchen greeting Saturday with breakfast indecision.  Megan got a knife ready to spread some Nutella on a piece of bread and then stopped.  She then said, “Put on some shoes and let’s go.”

I thought we were going to the Coinstar, so naturally I was totally psyched out of my mind for the amount of fun I was about to have.  

Because I didn’t even know we were close to a duck pond and because I guess I just thought it was normal for someone to bring a half-loaf of bread to a Coinstar, I was pleasantly surprised when we pulled up to a pond to do some good much-missed Waddling.

Canyon-y

It was beautiful.   Very different from the careful urban sculpting of the park I’d go to back home, this was right in the canyon and surrounded by highway sunflowers.  The ducks and geese, like most things in Utah, were a lot nicer and slower than I’m used to.   And I think it was my first time Waddling with Megan.  And Megan’s obviously a jillion times awesomer than any other person I’ve waddled with.  All these things considered, it was double the zen of usual Waddling.

Though, I’m sure Waddling is good wherever you go.  Except maybe like a prison.

Later on, we went to the campus pool for some roommate bonding. 

I'M BRAVE

Later later on, we went to Bear Lake!

            Which was SO cold

            And 50% located in Idaho

            And full of pretty rocks

            And graced with delicious raspberry               shakes

            And a whole lot of fun.

Thus concludes the weekend that I didn’t even turn into a fish.

In fact, I didn’t even turn into a fish this weekend either.  I didn’t even come close.

But I did go to my very first football game of the season!

And we won! Which was surprising because it was the last thing I was expecting (no offense, Aggies).

And I marched my first show! Which was pretty super fun and full of little baby rain sprinkles.

And I can do Running Man while playing my bass drum! Which feels like a real accomplishment.

And I went and sang songs to the elderly at Sunshine Terrace!  Which made my heart feel all good.  

And that's all I have to say.

Validation and the great Bug

 Today goes down as a Great Day!

-squeezed my way into Wind Orchestra

-lucked my way into Jazz Ensemble

-had a three hour dance party (I’m a dance machine)

-wore my first sweater of the season

With my comfy robe that makes me feel like a rich British man, newly shampooed hair, good memories, and some delicious herbal tea that my dear friend Rachel gave me, I’m feeling a lot cooler than I actually am.  So I thought I’d celebrate the fact that I don’t have to wake up early for my Sing-Awkwardly-In-Front-Of-Your-Peers class by talking about myself on the internet.

Something I learned:

Currently my major is Music Education, with an emphasis in band/percussion education.  However, my favorite classes so far are Religious Studies, Evidences of Intelligent Life in the Universe, and String Techniques.  After fruitless efforts of trying to squeeze aliens, yoga, and violins in my plans of having an at-home percussion studio, I became disheartened.  Yea, insomuch that a great confusement made my day kind of suck. 

However!

In Religious Studies, the professor asked “So where did college even start?”

“Harvard?...”

He went on to contradict us by basically explaining the origins of higher thinking.  It used to be that when someone felt the need for further enlightenment or education, they just sort of wandered around the forest, often naked (Since I ended up not going to ASU this is less likely (hah hah hah.)) and just mull over life.  They weren’t inventing tools or approving one another as superior archers or anything.  They were just thinking about how to be a better person.  This naturally developed into thinking about how to be a better citizen and how to help others become better people, as they saw fit.  Eventually these naked people met other naked people and they built huts, which eventually turned into buildings and so on.  And I think bowties come in at some point.  Thus, universities.  Thus, self-validation!

No, it is not necessarily true that by going to college I will get a higher paying job.   And if that’s the reason I’m here, then I am more prone to have weeks or years of sucky days of confusement.  And no, having a major shouldn’t be the focal point of my college education.  I’m just supposed to wander around in the forest for a while, and it’s totally awesome that I’m wearing a marching band uniform while I’m doing it. 

This is not to say that I do not love my major.  I’m just relishing in this hopefully-lasting peace that confusion is part of the plan.

On a lighter note…wanna hear a story?

So.  I was coming back to the apartment to grab my big bag of drumsticks and books for my first percussion lesson when I happened upon a huge giant Amazon bug.  Like a praying mantis, but more yellow and less cute. 

This is a pretty accurate depiction:

Like the totally competent grown-up that I am, I began shakily forming paper snowballs to throw at Bug in hopes that he would just kind of…skitter away? 

As much as I’d like to blame the wind, I admit it was my awfulness that let all seven-or-so snowballs miss.  The worst part is that the last one must have barely grazed his feelers, so he quick twitched his little Bug head at me.  I made some sort or dignified shriek of fear and scuttled away gracefully to the stairwell.  It was there that I happened upon my new buddy Jason!  He plays guitar and is into computer science.

“Hi Jason!”

“…Oh, hi!”

“You like computers!”

“...Yup! haha.”

“And you play guitar!”

“Sorry…you are?”

“Oh.  Emily. Hahahahahaha. So. Hey!  Could you help me out?”

“Sure!”

And then Jason greeted Bug gently with his skater shoe, merely escorting him from my door to the undoubtedly fluffy grass below.  What a pal!  So this is my blogular shoutout to Jason for his heroic feats in relocating bugs, getting me to my lesson on time, and braving my awkwardness with a smile. 

And it is with this anecdote that I must retire. 

A few quick tips:  Don’t donate blood five minutes before marching band, call your parents more often than you’d like, and never approach a Gallon Challenge (ever).