Friday, November 25, 2011

For Ang

Normally I'm not much for posting pictures of myself.

But a comment from this gal changed my mind. "Girl. Pretty sure reading your blog is going to become my favorite pastime. Can I make a request? I wanna see that 4 inch long A line of yours. Yes, I might have just read ALL of your posts."

Stop right there. You read all my posts?

*Falls to the floor in a faint*

Request anything you want.

My affection and undying loyalty have been bought. I am not above bribery - go ahead, stroke my ego. I'll blog about whatever. Heck I may even write you a song.

(Mom I think the reader total is high** enough now, you can stop paying people.)

Ang thanks for making my day.

**five. SD = plus or minus 3

Friday, November 18, 2011

Grandma, Grandma!

Carol.. here's to hoping you'll catch that title reference.

What I hear on a daily basis:

"Oh I could see your grandma bun across the library."

"Nice old lady glasses."

"Hey we're supposed to dress up in 90s clothes tomorrow.. so Sierra you can just wear what you normally would.

"Buttnugget (guess who this one is from?) you need to stop doing your hair in that compound swoop, Warren Jeffs went to jail today."

"Sierra, is that shirt from the DI?"

It's ok. I'm old. I also like to go to bed early, knit, and bake cookies for my grandchildren. Just call me babushka.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

A Grouchy Rant. Or a Call to Higher Standards. You Choose.

You know what phrase I hate? Not actually like a catchphrase (what's the sitch?) but something people say all the time when talking about service. It's become so canned and cliched. The conversation goes something like this, "service doesn't have to be hard guys, just a simple smile can make someone's day."
Aaaaaand cue: vomit reflex.

Don't get me wrong, I'm all about being friendly, having a positive attitude, and taking a minute to do something kind. But I am so past this "just smile" junk. Because I think we can do more.

Guess what? We're out of Jr. High. That was back when smiling at the wrong person could mean either:
1) you like them (and heaven forbid anyone find that out)
2) social suey. "what??? you just smiled at that girl?! She has braces AND last years jeans. You are OUT! Go sit by the trashcans at lunch."

Most people I interact with on a daily basis DO smile. I think it's time we went a little bit farther. How about sincerely asking how someone is, not accepting "fine" and actually listening to the answer? How about writing a short note to someone thanking them for a service they did? an anonymous note about a specific characteristic you love? Pick up someone's favorite candy bar or pack of gum at your local wally-world. (I so live in a college town.) Actually don't do that, the Mart of the Wal = bad bad place. Go to a mom and pop store instead, fight monopolizing corporations and make someone's day. Two birds with one stone. Boo ya. Or pull an Alyssa and scrape the snow off of my car. Pull a Landon and toss me a chocolate pudding like it's no big deal.

By all means keep smiling. That's wonderful. A great first step. But please someday move on - move up. Cut the surface-y junk examples and think about REAL life.

We can do this people.

It Is.

Today we sat in the Pastry Pub and talked about a test you had to study for.

You told me all about what you were learning in Chemistry.

Enzymes, peptide bonds, inhibitory molecules on the active site.

And then you stopped. Grinned. And said, "all this talk is pretty sexy isn't it?"

Here's the thing.

Yes. Yes it is.

Nesting. Someone Stop Me.

Well I made it. I moved into my new place of residence and I love it.

You know you've been living in a sleep study when the most exciting part of your day includes a tub only shared by two people, (two! no more waking up at the butt crack of dawn to maneuver twenty other girls out of their showering spots) an oven, and .... drumroll please... my very own Washing. Machine! Bliss.

It feels like I live in a house again. And with that has come this insatiable urge to decorate. All I can think is, (use your imaginary high pitched squealing voice - you know, the one I hate) "oh em GEE! We can buy coordinating furniture! And put up pictures! And Christmas lights on Christmas! And a tree! And precious inspiring quotes everywhere! Matching sweaters anyone?
I dunno what it is. I'm nesting or something. Slap me before I pull out the scrapbook.

All mocking aside, it does make me excited for my own home someday. I want to thrift ninety percent of the decorations and then pay ridiculous amounts for the remaining ten percent on stuff that just looks like it's been thrifted. I think it comes out of my desire to create. Create something wonderful where nothing was before. Nothing mock-worthy there.

Other random thoughts.
Apparently "thrifted" isn't a word. Go away hateful squiggly red line. It should be a word.
Did my post so eloquently entitled "squelch" ever show up? I swear I posted that a solid five to ten times.
Everyone keeps talking about how they're already in the Christmas mood. I'm not feeling it. I haven't even thought about Thanksgiving. Does that make me a scrooge? I think I'm just too busy to even think about vacation yet.

Thursday, November 3, 2011


It used to be facebook.

Then I met stumbleupon.

Then it was various pointless websites (grouchyrabbit, iwastesomuchtime, dearblankpleaseblank)

Mix in a little blogstalking. (50% I know, the other 50%... not so much)

And then I started a blog.

Now when I have large blocks of time in which I should be studying I end up writing several posts. Usually I just save them as drafts so I can easily post them later. Cause sometimes when it's rolling around in my brain I just gotta write it down.

Eventually I ended up getting tired of the previous distractions.

But I have a feeling this one will last quite awhile. Probably because I get to talk all about my view of the world and no one interrupts.

Hello procrastination. Thy name is blogger.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011


Dear girl sitting next to me in the library.

I have two tests and a quiz to study for, a paper and a lab report to write. And I have to move everything out of my room to a place still unknown. You're watching Glee on Hulu.

I hate you.

One of These Things is Not Like the Other..

A true fashion statement here on campus.

Cowboy hat. (Twenty five gallon at least.)


Cowboy boots.

Hollister shirt.

wait. wha....? Hick meets uber preppy surfer cool in jr high name brand? Ok. That's cool.

but fyi. large felt logos splashed across your chest do not a city slicker make.

In the Meantime...

Amidst all the boxes and packing life goes on. School continues, papers are still due, and classes must still be attended. But sometimes professors work with you.

A quote from my economics teacher.

"So apparently Juniper Hall burned down or got eaten by a dragon or something so we have all these refugees fleeing to Poland or something so now your test is on pushed back to Wednesday."

Thank you Professor Berri.

I'll send you a postcard from Poland.