Word Vomit
Summer break is here, and I'm taking full advantage. The first week off of school I slept. And when I say slept, I mean I slept--I went to bed at 11 or midnight every night and slept until 9 or 10 every day. I didn't know I could sleep that much. I got worried, fearing I was turning into one of those responsible sleeping people, but the very next week I returned to business as usual, staying up until 1 or 2 (...or 3 or 4...or one day 6:30...but that's a different story) and sleeping until eleven.
I've spent a lot of time reading and watching Star Trek (although NOT reading Star Trek novels, which is what someone thought I said). I'm amazed at the quality of difference in Star Trek seasons. There was a HUGE difference between season one and season two, and a big difference between seasons two and three. The writing is better, and Wesley Crusher is slightly less annoying. He had a scene in the last episode I watched that didn't make me hide my head in embarrassment. In fact, I was enthralled. I didn't know Wesley Crusher could be interesting!
So I had a Star Trek realization on Saturday. I was watching an episode, when Worf said, "Captain, they're hailing us now," and something clicked in my head. When I'm with people and one person calls for another and that individual doesn't hear it, I'll call out, "Hey, Joe, Mary's hailing you!" Or if Momma is calling for one of my siblings, I'll say, "Hey, you're being hailed."
That comes from Star Trek.
I have been watching Star Trek for 21, 22ish years of my life. I've seen episodes from the four major series and seen every movie, and it only just NOW clicked in my head that I say that because of Star Trek?!
Sometimes the brain is a fascinating mystery.
I also discovered that Shannon has never seen the Kirk movies, so, being a dutiful friend, I went out and purchased 2,3,4, and 6 for her viewing pleasure.
Last Star Trek story.... Last week I went out to eat at Red Robin with Wesley. We've been there at least a dozen times, and I've been several times with Johanna and Beth, yet somehow I've managed to never go to the bathroom there. This time the need to relieve myself was great, so I headed down the secluded corridor towards the ladies room. On the wall were three different Star Wars movie posters. Cool, thought I. Star Wars! Whoever decorates here has pretty good taste. But then I saw the end of the hall, right beside my destination: it was a movie poster for Star Trek: First Contact. I did a little squee dance. How fortuitous! I had just bought that movie maybe half an hour previously, and Wesley and I had just been discussing it! It was a sign. ...Indicating what, I don't know, but clearly a sign.
So back in April I took the Praxis II test, which I need to pass in order to get my Level 2 license as a teacher. The test started at 7:00 a.m. (which I chose, I will have you know. I could have attended the 10 a.m. session, but I believe in getting my misery over with). Naturally, since this is Utah, we started half an hour late. The testing session was two hours long and I was obligated to sit there for the entire thing.
The test started and I dutifully filled out the multiple choice section and wrote my essays, then closed my test booklet and looked at my watch. Fantastic. I had a little less than an hour left. Pulling out my book, I indulged in my favorite past time. The testing proctor, realizing I had closed my book and was supposedly finished, came over to check my answers and make sure I'd answered everything. I had. Let's face it--this was an education test, which meant it wasn't that difficult. Or, rather, it wasn't difficult for me, since everybody else was still scribbling away. In fact, most of them took the entire time. The test proctor was apparently shocked (and slightly embarrassed at the sight of Larry in a towel...sorry, I can't say "shocked" without quoting Veggie Tales) I was finished, but he left me be.
It wasn't until I left the Testing Center (capitalized because I was literally in BYU's Testing Center) that I started to wonder if I should worry about being finished so early. But I had double checked my work--well, sort of...I don't double check tests because then I start to doubt myself, so really I'd double checked that I'd written coherently on my essays. The only thing I was really worried about was one essay I answered in two lines and as many sentences, but I felt confident in my answer. Anything else I wrote would have just been fluff.
In the intervening weeks, occasionally I have wondered what I would do if I failed the Praxis. That would be a whole new level of embarrassment, and I'm not sure I could show my face to my family. How mortifying to fail an education test!
But I need not have worried. I got the results back today and I passed with flying colours. Naturally.
Now I can move along in updating my license, since I was stagnated until it was proven I'd passed the Praxis.
Melinda has a conference down here in Provo, so she's sleeping at my house. Last month, when Michelle Hoppe unexpectedly needed a place to crash, I discovered that I can move all my plastic-drawers-that-act-as-dressers to my bookshelf corner and have enough room on my floor for a second bed. So I stole the extra bed from Cassandra's room and placed it on my floor (both for Michelle and Melinda). Last night Melinda and I spent several hours catching up, and it was wonderful. We shared stories of being social pariahs in our wards and our vain attempts to talk to people.
Which reminds me.... Last Friday I attended Harry Potter's birthday party. He announced it last minute on Facebook, so I told the usual crew. Beth and I foolishly arrived right on time. I forgot to factor in Harry Potter's need to be late to everything. We knocked on his door and his roommates let us in. They informed us the birthday boy was not present (naturally), and let us sit down on their couches to wait. ...And then they went back to playing video games. Hello! Two pretty girls are sitting on your couch, and you're ignoring us for a piece of machinery?! I even attempted to talk to them. I introduced myself, asked about the game, made a few queries relevant to the on-screen happenings.... and got nothing in return. This, ladies and gentlemen, is why dealing with people is overrated. I, who despise small talk and don't care for strangers, attempted to engage these boys in conversation and was soundly ignored. As Johanna says, I have many reasons why I'm not married, but now I know why you aren't.
Which also reminds me.... I've mentioned my new calling as Ward Program/Bulletin maker. Well, Bro. Sandberg promised me I wouldn't have to stand at the door and hand them out, I only had to make them. Then the Bishop called me in for an interview and rescinded everything Bro. Sandberg said. The conversation went something like this:
Bishop: I want you to greet everyone by name as they come in for Church.
Me: Gah! Bro. Sandberg said I didn't have to do that!
Bishop: I know. He told me this morning, but even as he said it, I thought, that's perfect! Amy needs to greet people!
Me: :(
Bishop: So will you learn everyone's name and greet them?
Me: Yes.
Bishop: So what else can I do to make you feel uncomfortable? Do you exercise? I could always make you the ward sports director ((or whatever it's called)).
Me: No! I'll exercise!
So on Sunday I dutifully stood outside the main door (NOT the door I come in, thank you very much--which didn't surprise the Bishop) and greeted people. I greeted Norman as he came in, but not by name. He's one of those people who sits in Ward Council and knows what I'm supposed to do, so he turned around and said, "Aren't you supposed to greet me by name?"
So I responded with, in my very best brightly sarcastic voice, "Hi Normal! Welcome to Church! We're so glad you're here!" As he walked in, I put my face in my palm, because that was so not the right voice to use.
Shannon's ward was getting out and she happened to see me (we've never crossed paths before because I'm always inside the room sitting down long before the rest of my ward shows up), so, knowing about the new aspect of my calling, she walked up to me and said, "How's it going?"
"Let's just say there is MUCH room for improvement."
Since she's a good friend, she laughed at me.
I agree with Orson Scott Card. I could really use a Mormon monastery where I could escape for a few months, be in complete solitude, but still be viewed as an active member of the Church.
And thus I end my word vomit.
I've spent a lot of time reading and watching Star Trek (although NOT reading Star Trek novels, which is what someone thought I said). I'm amazed at the quality of difference in Star Trek seasons. There was a HUGE difference between season one and season two, and a big difference between seasons two and three. The writing is better, and Wesley Crusher is slightly less annoying. He had a scene in the last episode I watched that didn't make me hide my head in embarrassment. In fact, I was enthralled. I didn't know Wesley Crusher could be interesting!
So I had a Star Trek realization on Saturday. I was watching an episode, when Worf said, "Captain, they're hailing us now," and something clicked in my head. When I'm with people and one person calls for another and that individual doesn't hear it, I'll call out, "Hey, Joe, Mary's hailing you!" Or if Momma is calling for one of my siblings, I'll say, "Hey, you're being hailed."
That comes from Star Trek.
I have been watching Star Trek for 21, 22ish years of my life. I've seen episodes from the four major series and seen every movie, and it only just NOW clicked in my head that I say that because of Star Trek?!
Sometimes the brain is a fascinating mystery.
I also discovered that Shannon has never seen the Kirk movies, so, being a dutiful friend, I went out and purchased 2,3,4, and 6 for her viewing pleasure.
Last Star Trek story.... Last week I went out to eat at Red Robin with Wesley. We've been there at least a dozen times, and I've been several times with Johanna and Beth, yet somehow I've managed to never go to the bathroom there. This time the need to relieve myself was great, so I headed down the secluded corridor towards the ladies room. On the wall were three different Star Wars movie posters. Cool, thought I. Star Wars! Whoever decorates here has pretty good taste. But then I saw the end of the hall, right beside my destination: it was a movie poster for Star Trek: First Contact. I did a little squee dance. How fortuitous! I had just bought that movie maybe half an hour previously, and Wesley and I had just been discussing it! It was a sign. ...Indicating what, I don't know, but clearly a sign.
So back in April I took the Praxis II test, which I need to pass in order to get my Level 2 license as a teacher. The test started at 7:00 a.m. (which I chose, I will have you know. I could have attended the 10 a.m. session, but I believe in getting my misery over with). Naturally, since this is Utah, we started half an hour late. The testing session was two hours long and I was obligated to sit there for the entire thing.
The test started and I dutifully filled out the multiple choice section and wrote my essays, then closed my test booklet and looked at my watch. Fantastic. I had a little less than an hour left. Pulling out my book, I indulged in my favorite past time. The testing proctor, realizing I had closed my book and was supposedly finished, came over to check my answers and make sure I'd answered everything. I had. Let's face it--this was an education test, which meant it wasn't that difficult. Or, rather, it wasn't difficult for me, since everybody else was still scribbling away. In fact, most of them took the entire time. The test proctor was apparently shocked (and slightly embarrassed at the sight of Larry in a towel...sorry, I can't say "shocked" without quoting Veggie Tales) I was finished, but he left me be.
It wasn't until I left the Testing Center (capitalized because I was literally in BYU's Testing Center) that I started to wonder if I should worry about being finished so early. But I had double checked my work--well, sort of...I don't double check tests because then I start to doubt myself, so really I'd double checked that I'd written coherently on my essays. The only thing I was really worried about was one essay I answered in two lines and as many sentences, but I felt confident in my answer. Anything else I wrote would have just been fluff.
In the intervening weeks, occasionally I have wondered what I would do if I failed the Praxis. That would be a whole new level of embarrassment, and I'm not sure I could show my face to my family. How mortifying to fail an education test!
But I need not have worried. I got the results back today and I passed with flying colours. Naturally.
Now I can move along in updating my license, since I was stagnated until it was proven I'd passed the Praxis.
Melinda has a conference down here in Provo, so she's sleeping at my house. Last month, when Michelle Hoppe unexpectedly needed a place to crash, I discovered that I can move all my plastic-drawers-that-act-as-dressers to my bookshelf corner and have enough room on my floor for a second bed. So I stole the extra bed from Cassandra's room and placed it on my floor (both for Michelle and Melinda). Last night Melinda and I spent several hours catching up, and it was wonderful. We shared stories of being social pariahs in our wards and our vain attempts to talk to people.
Which reminds me.... Last Friday I attended Harry Potter's birthday party. He announced it last minute on Facebook, so I told the usual crew. Beth and I foolishly arrived right on time. I forgot to factor in Harry Potter's need to be late to everything. We knocked on his door and his roommates let us in. They informed us the birthday boy was not present (naturally), and let us sit down on their couches to wait. ...And then they went back to playing video games. Hello! Two pretty girls are sitting on your couch, and you're ignoring us for a piece of machinery?! I even attempted to talk to them. I introduced myself, asked about the game, made a few queries relevant to the on-screen happenings.... and got nothing in return. This, ladies and gentlemen, is why dealing with people is overrated. I, who despise small talk and don't care for strangers, attempted to engage these boys in conversation and was soundly ignored. As Johanna says, I have many reasons why I'm not married, but now I know why you aren't.
Which also reminds me.... I've mentioned my new calling as Ward Program/Bulletin maker. Well, Bro. Sandberg promised me I wouldn't have to stand at the door and hand them out, I only had to make them. Then the Bishop called me in for an interview and rescinded everything Bro. Sandberg said. The conversation went something like this:
Bishop: I want you to greet everyone by name as they come in for Church.
Me: Gah! Bro. Sandberg said I didn't have to do that!
Bishop: I know. He told me this morning, but even as he said it, I thought, that's perfect! Amy needs to greet people!
Me: :(
Bishop: So will you learn everyone's name and greet them?
Me: Yes.
Bishop: So what else can I do to make you feel uncomfortable? Do you exercise? I could always make you the ward sports director ((or whatever it's called)).
Me: No! I'll exercise!
So on Sunday I dutifully stood outside the main door (NOT the door I come in, thank you very much--which didn't surprise the Bishop) and greeted people. I greeted Norman as he came in, but not by name. He's one of those people who sits in Ward Council and knows what I'm supposed to do, so he turned around and said, "Aren't you supposed to greet me by name?"
So I responded with, in my very best brightly sarcastic voice, "Hi Normal! Welcome to Church! We're so glad you're here!" As he walked in, I put my face in my palm, because that was so not the right voice to use.
Shannon's ward was getting out and she happened to see me (we've never crossed paths before because I'm always inside the room sitting down long before the rest of my ward shows up), so, knowing about the new aspect of my calling, she walked up to me and said, "How's it going?"
"Let's just say there is MUCH room for improvement."
Since she's a good friend, she laughed at me.
I agree with Orson Scott Card. I could really use a Mormon monastery where I could escape for a few months, be in complete solitude, but still be viewed as an active member of the Church.
And thus I end my word vomit.