Meet S. He's new.

I read a story a while back that seemed to introduce new characters all the way up to the end.  I think it was The Confidence man.  Truthfully, I didn't read it.  I sparknoted it, and skimmed it.  I just remember getting frustrated because new characters were being introduced the entire novel.  By the time this book ended I had to keep track of more characters than people I've met during my entire life.  It was exhausting.
That said, lets meet S.  It didn't take long for his inner crazy to come through, in a remarkable way, and warrant a story on my blog.  Somehow I knew that when I mentioned him today that something would happen to necessitate a story.  S and B took me to go hang out with some girls that they had met earlier this week.

Now, let me give a small narratorial aside.  I can't do justice to this story no matter how hard I try.  It is so complex, that it truthfully is one of those had-to-be-there-moments.  But I'm going to share it anyway.

Two of the girls were from other countries.  One of them somehow became offended that Mormons always seems to talk about religion, which is a little unfair when one remembers that she is the one who started talking about religion.  A better judgement might be that Mormons can't seem to stop talking about religion.  While we might not start a faith-based discussion, we certainly won't let them finish.

Through this discussion we learned lots of fun little facts about her; such as where she is from, how long she has lived here, and her the present whereabouts of her boyfriend, who is apparently "way bigger than S, and has much bigger muscles, and could totally beat him up."  I wouldn't call myself an amazing conversationalist, but I rarely allow a conversation to go from, "nice to meet you" to, "I'm gonna get my serbian BF beat the crap out of you" in under ten minutes.  Apparently such conversational tracks are commonplace in countries known for their widespread tolerance of others.  I'd forgotten that the spanish inquisition was just "harmless hazing."
One of the other girls seemed to get mad because she just didn't understand S.  
S  has the remarkable ability to literally carry on several conversations with multiple people at the same time.  It is like his brain is a harddrive that he can section off, allowing different parts to work on one task while other parts are assigned to other functions.  While this is a freakin awesome skill, it also seems to annoy people pretty quickly if they aren't used to it.
Within about 15 minutes two of the girls were so annoyed at S because they felt like he was just talking to them, instead of with them.  Little did they understand, S had heard every word they said, carefully contemplated it, analyzed it, then responded.  He is a freakin machine.  If my computer could do as many things at once as he can, I'd never fall behind... ever.

So that is a small introduction to S.  He is hilarious, and it is always worth a good conversation.  There have been one or two times where I just go to his room, and mention something for the simple joy of hearing him speak.  He can almost carry on a conversation with himself; arguing both sides of a topic like a true sophist.  Once he has debated the merits of both sides of the argument, I politely withdraw with a smile on my face knowing that I've been edified and learned something useful.


My complaint comes from people who get so hostile so quickly.  Why?  Neither of those girls were even moderate conversationalists, they both had terrible personalities, and...and... you know what?  I really want to go on, but I just felt like I ran into a wall.  haha.  I wasn't tired at all, and it just hit me.  So give a warm welcome to S, and know that I'll be posting another story soon.

Les Mis, liz, and les gym.

This popped up while I was eating.




There really is no purpose behind this video except to say that 30 rock makes me laugh so hard.  There are several TV shows that I constantly turn back to, and 30 Rock is one of them.
I'm weird.  I'll admit it.  I super-duper like cleaning.  For whatever reason I actually live like an absolute slob, which necessitates that I spend an hour or two several times a week (or even one mega-long day) cleaning as if company is about to come over, and i don't want them to think that I'm too poor to afford staffing an entire kitchen staff, several maids, a butler, and a valet (not a valet, like the guy who parks your car, but rather a valet, like the guy who helps you get dressed).
Obviously, this is a habit that B and S (oh, S. is the new roommate.  he just moved in a month ago, and i'm sure I'll be posting some stories about him in a bit.  Until recently he has been able to pretend to be normal, but one can only hold up that facade for so long before the inner crazy needs to break free.  I don't know what is going to happen, but I'm going to guess it will be sleep walking....ohhhh or fight club.  I'll put $5 down that he tries to start fight club...in our apartment) appreciate.  It means that they essentially have a servant who takes care of their house for them.  This coupled with my insane need to cook soup-kitchen amounts of food means that neither of them has had to cook or clean in a while.
It is essentially the plot of an e card someone sent me.  My diet plan is to make everyone else fat by comparison to me so that I look skinny.  Mission accomplished.
Anyway, while engaging in my crazy cooking and cleaning rituals I often watch 30 rock.  I don't actually watch it, but it is noise in the background.  Furthermore, it is less depressing than news, more hilarious than late night, and less repetitive than music.  All-in-all, I'ld say it is a pleasant way to fill silence.

I just realized that it has been super long since I've posted an adventure.
Well, in my defense I basically live like a member of the geriatric community, and haven't had dinner past 4 pm in over two months.  I have been going to the gym. a lot. still. and I don't feel any stronger.
But hey, that isn't why one goes to the gym.  If I wanted to look like I just crawled out of a hot tub on the jersey shore then I would find some "supplement" to do all the work for me.  I go to the gym for two reasons:  1) my cholesterol would be through the rough, as would my weight, and my skin would be a pasty white, with acne all over it.  Therefore the gym simply works to even out my terrible eating habits, and not actually get me to be an abs model.  ANNNND 2) it is really the only time I socialize with people.  Who knew that so many people go to the gym at 6 am?  I most certainly didn't, and so far I've even started making friends.
Unfortunately a gym is a terrible microcosm of American society (How meta-meta did I sound right there?).  One citizen that B and I have run into while at the gym is the stalker.
The stalker is an overly villianized member of American society.  Without them, how would we know what constitutes inappropriate action? Without them, would we know that it is rude to stare at someone with your mouth open, while breathing heavily?  No, no we would not, because no one else would do that, and so we'd all just sit around wondering whether or not such action would make others feel awkward.  Furthermore, without stalkers we wouldn't know who is beautiful, and who is not. Look on the bright side, if you have a stalker then it means that someone thinks you're good looking enough to ignore 2000 years of social and evolutionary mores just to let you know how much they care.
See, I'm just spinning the negative into a positive.  So thanks, to my stalker, who tirelessly works to remind me that the measly weight I'm using on my bicep curl is actually remarkable, and extraordinary, and fascinating enough to sit and watch for twenty minutes without blinking, moving, or producing any other sign of life.  While it might have scared me at first, I know realize that it is just a compliment.

no really.  It is not a compliment.  it is awkward, and slightly terrifying.

in conclusion, is anyone else as happy about Les Mis as I am?  it looks amazing.  Way to go Anne hathaway, this might make me not be so sick of you.

ohhhhh if only college had been like this.

I love insomnia!  I remember a time when it really used to bother me that I wasn't able to sleep for ten hours a night, but now I just sort of relish the fact that I function moderately well on 45 minutes of sleep.  It isn't ideal, but sometimes life gives you lemons and the only thing to do is make lemonade  stay up, cause you aren't going to sleep anyway, and research 1 million things to do with lemons on pinterest.  Trust me.  There are that many uses.  
I spent this morning reading, writing, playing solitaire, etc when I remembered this hilarious little web series I discovered probably 5 years ago.  Take the 5 minuts and watch this.  It will totally put a smile on your face.




The joy brought on by this video was enough to make me nap-out for a good 20 minutes (bringing my sleeping schedule to exactly 1/24th of my day).  When i woke up I decided to share it.
How is it that my college experience was nothing like this?  Oh well, one day I vow to pull off the window of pain.  It will, of course be epic.  Tears will be shed, probably from whoever's face get smushed into the glass.  They will contemplate retaliation, until it is made clear to them that it is impossible to sneak up on someone whose sleep is as unsettled as a peace treaty between Iran and Israel (Get it?  It is pretty tumultuous.  Subsequently, we have now exceeded my knowledge of politics).  Ultimately we will all look back fondly at this experience.

I guess I should probably go and attempt something productive.

Just some thoughts on Autumn

I can't believe that it is already autumn.  Does anyone else feel as if 2012 has just flown by?  Oh well, not much one can do about it now.

With Autumn comes the unfortunate end to the Omaha Farmer's Market.  Don't ask me to explain it, but I have yet to find a suitable place to get produce year round, and I live in, what I would assume is, very productive farmland.
Recently I made this recipe.  While it has always been an absolute favorite of mine, it is unbelievable  when two requirements are met. 1) get all your produce from a farmers market.  I can't even begin to describe to you the fabulous aroma that will percolate through your house as farm-fresh bacon and green onions are simmering.  2) Do yourself a favor and invest in a cast iron skillet.  While I've cooked this recipe in normal teflon skillets, it doesn't turn out nearly as nice as it does with cast iron.  If you are lucky, the cashier at you local store, as mine did, will ignore your suggestion for a $15 price tag when she fails to find the actual bar code, and will be too lazy to call someone and ask them, and will subsequently settle on giving it to you for $10 (Happy Birthday To Me!).
Autumn brings a whole slew of memories.  Every year Madre Evans dusts off the giant stock pot and cans.  This is, by far, my favorite memory.  She cans three things: strawberry jam (It probably should be pronounced straw-bree, like our classy british friends do), Salsa, and Chili Sauce (For those of you who don't know, Chili sauce is a sweeter kind of salsa, that is really good on roast beef).  With the help of WebMD, I was recently self diagnosed as a salsa addict.  Don't worry.  I'm getting it under control.  Madre's year long supply would never last very long because I can polish off salsa faster than a depressed chick and a quart of mint chocolate ice cream.
Several years ago madre went to serve a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latte-day Saints.  At first this wasn't so bad, but our family was left to fend for ourselves, and eat store bought jam.  It was a rough winter (It truly was a winter of discontent).  I am super bummed that I can't be at home this year when canning happens.  I would give it a go here in Omaha, but there are several issues.  1) Where am I going to store a years worth of salsa and jam?  Under my bed, is the only possible answer, and that would just encourage, what I like to call, sleep eating.  I'm totally awake, but it is less embarrassing if I claim I eat while asleep.  Problem 2) I would need to buy all new canning stuff.  Blue had limited storage capacity, so driving out here required only taking the bare essentials...and I mean bare, like underwear and socks bare.  The luxury of bringing multiple pairs of jeans was out of the question.  Problem 3) is less of a problem and more of a logistical quandary.     I have no idea where I'm going to be living in 7 months.  I don't want to have salsa stockpiled as if I'm awaiting Armageddon  and then have to move it all, or better yet worse, have to binge eat it like it is going out of style.
Alas, no freezer jam or salsa for me this year.
The other great thing about Autumn is new releases.  TV is back, Music is new, Movies are improving after their late summer letdown.
This leads me to my list of favorite things for September.

Mumford and Sons (They have always been on the list, but their new album just came out this week....AWWWWWWEESOOOOOOME).  I might have died a little bit on the inside when I heard they were in town but tickets had sold faster than....I don't know, but something awesome.
Happy Endings (Jane Kerkovich-Williams is probably my favorite character on television. she is just hilarious.  nuf said).
jogging (After, what feels like eternity, I am jogging again.  Painful, yes. Will I stop? No.  is it gorgeous outside? Yes. How long can I keep writing as if it is a MasterCard commercial?  priceless...I mean forever.

Well I've procrastinated enough.  I need to start reading Mark Twain's Huckleberry Finn.  If anyone knows of a good video adaptation of this book I'd appreciate it.  I am in need of some more free time.

help for a friend

Usually this blog is a place for me to rant, and rarely do I engage in anything productive or positive.  I'm going to change that for today.  My friend Camilla is in need of some help.  She is trying to enter a treatment facility.  Camilla is a dear friend of mine, and she is in need of help to make this a reality.  Go to her blog and read about her experiences.  Support her if you can, or just purchase some amazing baked goods.

click here for her blog.

Driving

I will be the first to admit that I did not attend one of those progressive drivers education courses that taught one that it is appropriate to cross several lanes of traffic without a single flash of a blinker, nor did my teach me the invaluable skill of driving while eating what can only be described as a fabulous meal of Omaha steak, with a baked potato with a side of steamed vegetables (think about how awesome that skill would be, and then acknowledge the supernal difficulty of accomplishing it on a freeway).  All of this aside, I am pretty sure that the turning lane is a staple of driver education.
For those of you that are unfamiliar, the turning lane is that lane in the middle bordered by double yellow lines.
If you are making a left hand turn onto a road, crossing one lane of traffic and merging into another one, it is perfectly acceptable to utilize the turning lane.  The only requirement is that there be no traffic coming on your left.  the traffic on the right can be as busy as a costco on a Saturday . . .  you know why?  Because you have a turning lane in which to sit until an opening should appear.
Apparently the Nebraskan Drivers Education Teachers have never been told about this fabulous vehicular inclusion because they seem to have failed in passing the information onto their pupils.  Everyone freaks out when I turn into this lane! they get all paranoid and actually stop driving.

If you are to skittish to handle a car turning into the lane next to you, then please, by all means, refrain from ever driving again.
Done, and done.  With that, my rant for the day concludes.

Also, I am listening to a new band I recently heard.  Go and look up "The Canes"  not the crotchety old men from the south, but the cool hip band from Chicago (apparently there are two different ones, so just be warned).