The world sure was white when I woke up this morning. It was hail at first, the kind of little pellets that are almost snow but not quite, but now looking out my window I'm wondering if the snowflakes are finally falling.
A truth came out last night about the newest roommate from California: Jennifer talks to walls. And electric guitars (belonging to Mara) leaning against the walls. And dark, empty corners of rooms.
Or so Mara thought.
Last night I was reading a novel, as I tend to do in the evenings after a long day at school. I started out sprawled on the couch, then moved to half the couch (so Holly could sit down), then ended up sprawled out again, on the floor in the corner between the two couches and halfway underneath the puzzle table. I changed places when everybody was preoccupied elsewhere; Holly was in the shower, Jennifer was getting something from her room, Sara was showing off her super special spiffy blue dress, Mara was doing stuff on her computer, and Kelly was hemming a dress. A few minutes later Jennifer entered the living room to return to her homework nook on the love seat and paused, confused.
"Where did Jessica go?"
Although engrossed in my book, the question still made me giggle, and Jennifer laughed when she spotted me half-hidden under the table and between the sofas. "There you are!"
Nobody paid any attention as Jennifer sat on the love seat (next to my head) and started her physics reading. She didn't get very far. The ward dance has been on most of my roommates' minds lately, since Sara and Kelly found out who the computer "matched" them with on Sunday and Monday, respectively. (Hence the reason Sara was showing off her special dress.) About two paragraphs into her reading (and a page and half further in mine), she blurted out randomly,
"You should do your hair for the dance."
I was not in the mood to be pushed around. I pretended not to hear, but Jennifer persisted. "You can do mine and then I'll do yours."
This required a hasty disclaimer. "I don't think you want me to do your hair."
"It's not hard!" Jennifer protested. "You'll see." She continued trying to get me to think about fancy hairdos for the dance. I continued trying to ignore her.
Mara walked in, passing Kelly sewing at the kitchen table, and asked, "Jennifer, who are you talking to?"
Jennifer paused for a moment and then laughed. "Oh, you know, the guitar. 'You should really do your hair for the dance!' No; Jessica is in the corner. You probably can't see her from there."
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Lunch with the best of the best
- Jennifer, Sara and Jessica
Author's note: JCW's has pretty good shakes too.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
I knew it wasn't a race, but...
Today in Online Editing we had a quiz. Dr. R gave us a broken HTML document, a printout of what the webpage was supposed to look like and let us loose. I immediately set to work, fixing the easy formatting errors first and then moving on to the harder ones.
"Professor Randle, I'm done!" one of my classmates called out from the other side of the room. Until that moment, I hadn't thought it could be turned into a race, but the moment he said it, two thoughts zipped through my head:
What? How did he beat me?
Arrogant thoughts, I knew. I repented.
"Hmm. Take a closer look, Dan. I can still see some problems," I heard Randle say.
I withdrew my repentance.
"Mister Done-in-Fifteen-Minutes," Dr. R said under his breath. Teasing Daniel.
I took my time checking the HTML document for further errors, trying to ignore the racing of my heart that screamed, it's on!
Ten minutes later I called out: "Randle, I think I'm done." The words I think were carefully calculated to force some humility into my competitive spirit. It didn't work very well.
He came over and looked over my shoulder to check my work. He was impressed. I was relieved.
I had "won" the quiz.
"Professor Randle, I'm done!" one of my classmates called out from the other side of the room. Until that moment, I hadn't thought it could be turned into a race, but the moment he said it, two thoughts zipped through my head:
What? How did he beat me?
Arrogant thoughts, I knew. I repented.
"Hmm. Take a closer look, Dan. I can still see some problems," I heard Randle say.
I withdrew my repentance.
"Mister Done-in-Fifteen-Minutes," Dr. R said under his breath. Teasing Daniel.
I took my time checking the HTML document for further errors, trying to ignore the racing of my heart that screamed, it's on!
Ten minutes later I called out: "Randle, I think I'm done." The words I think were carefully calculated to force some humility into my competitive spirit. It didn't work very well.
He came over and looked over my shoulder to check my work. He was impressed. I was relieved.
I had "won" the quiz.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
La galleta más grande del mundo
Jennifer and I made awesome cookies today. They were awesome because a) they had crushed Heath bar bits and dark chocolate chips, b) they were yummy and c) there were a lot of them (about four dozen which, yes, we shared). With Jill, Mara, Sara, Chance and Liz (the latter two were over para hablar español conmigo). :)
Jennifer mixing awesome cookie dough
After baking four dozen medium-sized cookies, we used the last of the dough to make la galleta más grande del mundo! Note it's bigger than my head.
A diorama of the Earth and Moon
So much spam
Today I spent about an hour systematically clearing the chemistry website of spam. Long story short, there was a lot of it.
Later I wrote a blog post for the Daily Universe about how annoying unsolicited mass messages are and how to avoid them. (Surprise surprise; the chem website breaks Rule Number One: keep your security updated. Drupal has been trying to tell us to update our security for a few weeks. Maybe now we'll actually do it. I'll have to bring it up.)
While researching for my DU blog post, I learned an interesting new fact: electronic spam was named after the processed lunch meat that is way too squishy no matter how you cook it. More specifically, it's named after a Monty Python skit called "Spam," in which the actors go to order breakfast at a restaurant and almost all the dishes contain spam (the meat, not the messages).
Personally, I would have used a more general analogy: unsolicited messages are like earwigs in the summertime- unwelcome and everywhere.
Later I wrote a blog post for the Daily Universe about how annoying unsolicited mass messages are and how to avoid them. (Surprise surprise; the chem website breaks Rule Number One: keep your security updated. Drupal has been trying to tell us to update our security for a few weeks. Maybe now we'll actually do it. I'll have to bring it up.)
While researching for my DU blog post, I learned an interesting new fact: electronic spam was named after the processed lunch meat that is way too squishy no matter how you cook it. More specifically, it's named after a Monty Python skit called "Spam," in which the actors go to order breakfast at a restaurant and almost all the dishes contain spam (the meat, not the messages).
Personally, I would have used a more general analogy: unsolicited messages are like earwigs in the summertime- unwelcome and everywhere.
Sunday, February 5, 2012
A favorite scene from X-Men 2
X-Men United (2003)
DISCLAIMER: The following is based on the specified movie. If you like what you read here, I highly recommend the movie.
**SPOILER ALERT**
“The helicopter was right here!” Wolverine shouted, inadvertently clutching the boy in his arms tighter in his panic. By avoiding the flooded spillway, they had made it out of the base alive- but time was running out. The dam couldn’t take much more. Soon the pressure would exceed its limit, and the water would break out of its confinement.
Curse you, Stryker, Wolverine thought, not for the first time. He looked around wildly, searching for something- anything- that might get them out of this mess. They were a sorry group. Cyclops had one arm around Jean, supporting part of her weight so she didn’t have to walk on her injured leg; Professor Xavier and the five other children whom Stryker had held captive at the base clustered around Nightcrawler and Storm.
Then he heard something. The dull roar of an engine. Collectively, the group stumbled back as the X-Men’s black jet appeared over the canopy of pine trees. Who was piloting? Logan had left Rogue, Pyro and Bobby to wait in the aircraft while he, Storm, Nightcrawler, Magneto and Mystique carried out the rescue.
Magneto. Wolverine bit back a curse. He took the helicopter.
It made sense. He hadn’t seen Magneto or Mystique since he split off from the others to chase down Stryker.
Magneto… A thought occurred to Logan and, still carrying the boy, temporarily left the others at a brisk walk to check out a ruined concrete wall several hundred yards away.
Inside the black jet, Rogue’s white-gloved hands gripped the vertical thrusters so tightly she felt them going numb. Calm down, you can do this, she thought to slow her pounding heart, but it only thumped harder as she struggled to ease down without allowing her muscles to shake. She made it most of the way down before she twitched. The jet descended the last few feet in free fall, landing on the ground with a sickening thump. Beside her, Bobby flicked the switch to extend the ramp. Rogue jumped at a loud whooshing noise, looking back to see Nightcrawler and Xavier in the craft. Her heartbeat sped up again as Storm swept her way aboard with five of the other kids from school and went straight to her.
“It’s all right,” Storm said soothingly, trying to pry Rogue’s hands off the controls. “It’s all right. You can let go.”
Rogue allowed her to extract her from the pilot’s chair, still unable to speak as she stood on shaky legs and went to sit next to Bobby. Scott went to the copilot’s chair.
“Here, Bobby.” Logan appeared at the top of the ramp and handed off the boy, then went to hover as Storm and Cyclops worked the controls.
“Has anyone seen John?” someone asked.
Wolverine went on alert. “Pyro?”
“He’s with Magneto,” Jean said quietly.
Nobody had anything to say to that.
“Vertical thrusters are offline,” Storm reported, voice tight. Logan pushed down the panic he felt tearing at him again. Storm and Cyclops would figure it out. They couldn’t die after all they’d been through. They couldn’t!
Outside, the dam cracked. Water burst through the opening, sending a spiderweb of cracks all over the dam. Several pieces of concrete broke off, propelled by an entire lake’s worth of water.
“The power’s failing,” Storm said tensely.
Jean stood quietly behind them all, feeling strangely detached from the occurring events, as if she’d already been through it all before. The tension in the cockpit ate at the fringes of her mind, but the sensation had to be worse for the Professor than for her. There was a different kind of feeling picking at her – the knowledge that they all were going to die unless somebody did something, and only she had the power to save them.
Only me. Jean took a slow breath. Someone else might have wondered if they were overreacting, but she knew she wasn’t. The jet needed a lift, and no one else here could possibly accomplish it. But how could she leave Scott – and Logan? Jean looked at them, both so focused on activating the jet that they were oblivious to everything else. Both determined to survive and complete the rescue. There were tears in her eyes as she turned, activated and limped down the ramp.
Inside the jet, Xavier’s head snapped up. “Jean?”
Scott and Wolverine were instantly alert. “Where’s Jean?” Logan demanded.
The Professor hesitated for a fraction of a second before responding, “She’s outside.”
“What? No!” Cyclops leapt out of his seat and ran for the door. The ramp retracted seemingly of its own accord, closing just after Scott got a glimpse of Jean’s determined face.
“I’m sorry,” the Professor said. Scott turned and sprinted to Xavier, crouching down next to him, almost in tears.
“You’ve got Jean? Jean!”
“It’s the only way,” Xavier said, relaying the words directly from Jean’s mouth. “Goodbye.”
“Jean!”
The jet gave a jolt and then began to rise. Outside, the water was spilling to either side. The aircraft was temporarily protected as it gained altitude.
Underneath the craft, Jean felt the moment the engines finally engaged, relinquishing the need for her telekinetic push. Mentally and physically drained but triumphant, Jean lowered both hands, closed her eyes and let the cold, surging water of Alkali Lake wash over her.
Logan tried to swallow against the lump in his throat as Storm guided the jet away from the lake. He choked the words out: “She’s gone.”
“Don’t say that!” Scott grabbed at the front of his jacket.
“She’s gone,” Logan repeated, his chin trembling uncontrollably.
Scott sobbed.
“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want,” Nightcrawler said quietly. “He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: He leadeth me beside the still waters. Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”
DISCLAIMER: The following is based on the specified movie. If you like what you read here, I highly recommend the movie.
**SPOILER ALERT**
“The helicopter was right here!” Wolverine shouted, inadvertently clutching the boy in his arms tighter in his panic. By avoiding the flooded spillway, they had made it out of the base alive- but time was running out. The dam couldn’t take much more. Soon the pressure would exceed its limit, and the water would break out of its confinement.
Curse you, Stryker, Wolverine thought, not for the first time. He looked around wildly, searching for something- anything- that might get them out of this mess. They were a sorry group. Cyclops had one arm around Jean, supporting part of her weight so she didn’t have to walk on her injured leg; Professor Xavier and the five other children whom Stryker had held captive at the base clustered around Nightcrawler and Storm.
Then he heard something. The dull roar of an engine. Collectively, the group stumbled back as the X-Men’s black jet appeared over the canopy of pine trees. Who was piloting? Logan had left Rogue, Pyro and Bobby to wait in the aircraft while he, Storm, Nightcrawler, Magneto and Mystique carried out the rescue.
Magneto. Wolverine bit back a curse. He took the helicopter.
It made sense. He hadn’t seen Magneto or Mystique since he split off from the others to chase down Stryker.
Magneto… A thought occurred to Logan and, still carrying the boy, temporarily left the others at a brisk walk to check out a ruined concrete wall several hundred yards away.
Inside the black jet, Rogue’s white-gloved hands gripped the vertical thrusters so tightly she felt them going numb. Calm down, you can do this, she thought to slow her pounding heart, but it only thumped harder as she struggled to ease down without allowing her muscles to shake. She made it most of the way down before she twitched. The jet descended the last few feet in free fall, landing on the ground with a sickening thump. Beside her, Bobby flicked the switch to extend the ramp. Rogue jumped at a loud whooshing noise, looking back to see Nightcrawler and Xavier in the craft. Her heartbeat sped up again as Storm swept her way aboard with five of the other kids from school and went straight to her.
“It’s all right,” Storm said soothingly, trying to pry Rogue’s hands off the controls. “It’s all right. You can let go.”
Rogue allowed her to extract her from the pilot’s chair, still unable to speak as she stood on shaky legs and went to sit next to Bobby. Scott went to the copilot’s chair.
“Here, Bobby.” Logan appeared at the top of the ramp and handed off the boy, then went to hover as Storm and Cyclops worked the controls.
“Has anyone seen John?” someone asked.
Wolverine went on alert. “Pyro?”
“He’s with Magneto,” Jean said quietly.
Nobody had anything to say to that.
“Vertical thrusters are offline,” Storm reported, voice tight. Logan pushed down the panic he felt tearing at him again. Storm and Cyclops would figure it out. They couldn’t die after all they’d been through. They couldn’t!
Outside, the dam cracked. Water burst through the opening, sending a spiderweb of cracks all over the dam. Several pieces of concrete broke off, propelled by an entire lake’s worth of water.
“The power’s failing,” Storm said tensely.
Jean stood quietly behind them all, feeling strangely detached from the occurring events, as if she’d already been through it all before. The tension in the cockpit ate at the fringes of her mind, but the sensation had to be worse for the Professor than for her. There was a different kind of feeling picking at her – the knowledge that they all were going to die unless somebody did something, and only she had the power to save them.
Only me. Jean took a slow breath. Someone else might have wondered if they were overreacting, but she knew she wasn’t. The jet needed a lift, and no one else here could possibly accomplish it. But how could she leave Scott – and Logan? Jean looked at them, both so focused on activating the jet that they were oblivious to everything else. Both determined to survive and complete the rescue. There were tears in her eyes as she turned, activated and limped down the ramp.
Inside the jet, Xavier’s head snapped up. “Jean?”
Scott and Wolverine were instantly alert. “Where’s Jean?” Logan demanded.
The Professor hesitated for a fraction of a second before responding, “She’s outside.”
“What? No!” Cyclops leapt out of his seat and ran for the door. The ramp retracted seemingly of its own accord, closing just after Scott got a glimpse of Jean’s determined face.
“I’m sorry,” the Professor said. Scott turned and sprinted to Xavier, crouching down next to him, almost in tears.
“You’ve got Jean? Jean!”
“It’s the only way,” Xavier said, relaying the words directly from Jean’s mouth. “Goodbye.”
“Jean!”
The jet gave a jolt and then began to rise. Outside, the water was spilling to either side. The aircraft was temporarily protected as it gained altitude.
Underneath the craft, Jean felt the moment the engines finally engaged, relinquishing the need for her telekinetic push. Mentally and physically drained but triumphant, Jean lowered both hands, closed her eyes and let the cold, surging water of Alkali Lake wash over her.
Logan tried to swallow against the lump in his throat as Storm guided the jet away from the lake. He choked the words out: “She’s gone.”
“Don’t say that!” Scott grabbed at the front of his jacket.
“She’s gone,” Logan repeated, his chin trembling uncontrollably.
Scott sobbed.
“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want,” Nightcrawler said quietly. “He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: He leadeth me beside the still waters. Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.”
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Go lady cougars, go!
I'm going to the women's basketball game against St. Mary's today and I'm SUPER EXCITED. This will be the first time at a game I get to CHEER for my team! (Sports reporters are discouraged from cheering for a particular side, even if they're there covering BYU for the BYU Daily Universe. But this time, I won't be going as a sports reporter. I'll be going as a fan!)
Keeping in mind the writing mantra "show, don't tell" that you all recite often to me, I will take my camera. And maybe I'll even use it.
We've been learning to sing the Cougar fight song in Spanish. Wish I could include the words in Spanish along with the music, but do the best you can. (And ignore the football pictures at the end. In a perfect world, they would be shots of our amazing basketball players.)
Keeping in mind the writing mantra "show, don't tell" that you all recite often to me, I will take my camera. And maybe I'll even use it.
We've been learning to sing the Cougar fight song in Spanish. Wish I could include the words in Spanish along with the music, but do the best you can. (And ignore the football pictures at the end. In a perfect world, they would be shots of our amazing basketball players.)
Friday, February 3, 2012
My trip to the Capitol
Yesterday I went up to the Capitol Building with one of my Comms professors and two classmates. I rode up with Kristian (one classmate) and his wife Robin. Jeff (the other classmate) and Professor Campbell met us on the second floor under the dome at 9 am, when Prof. Campbell proceeded to give us a tour of the building, pointing out the press tables in the galleries, explaining where you could go as a member of the public and where you needed a press pass to enter, how to send a note to a particular representative or senator through their "green coat" or "blue coat" security guards during a session.
He told us about the parts of the Capitol that were restored and about the murals and statues in the building, took Jeff and I to the cafeteria in the Senate Office Building (where I satisfied a craving for chocolate milk) and then talked us through the stories we're currently chasing. After our snack at the cafeteria, we went back to the main building and sent notes in to the respective senators we wanted to talk to. Jeff's senator came out for a quick interview. Mine sent his interns to say he'd call me later. After that, Professor Campbell left and Jeff and I sat in on the House session with Robin until Kristian came back from interviewing a few people. As the Daily Universe's legislative reporter, Jeff will apply for a press pass and likely be up at the Capitol all the time. For Kristian and I, who are only planning to chase one legislative story each, getting a press pass wasn't worth it.
All in all, it was a very exciting morning. I loved the tour of the Capitol and the helpful explanations (and demonstrations) of how the House and Senate try to accommodate reporters. Also, that chocolate milk just hit the spot. :)
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