welcome to neeleyville*

A while ago when I was home, I came across this little gem in our china cabinet:

(Sorry about the glare)

Then a few months later I found this at my aunt's house:

And just a few days ago when I went home, I spotted this beauty:

Perhaps this will give you a little insight into the wonderful world of the Neeley family and perhaps explain some things.

Merry Headless Joseph Christmas and God Bless Us, Everyone, No Matter What Upper Body Parts We May Be Missing!

*According to my family history, there really used to be a place in Idaho called Neeleyville, but according to Widipedia, I can't find anything else about it out.  But you know you've made it Big when you have a town named after you in Idaho.

the breaking of the fellowship....

About a month and a half ago I was released from my calling as the co-chair of the activities committee.  I will not lie, I was pretty happy to be released.  It was not my favorite calling.  There are some things I'll miss about it, and it was easy working with Legolas as the other co-chair since we were already such good friends, but for the most part, I'm happy to move on.  For ever since I've moved into this ward, the activities committee chair was always the "marriage" calling.  People would generally get released when they were getting married.  There were a few exceptions, but not many.  I was released without that honor.  (Though, I was dating a nice young man for a while when I had that calling, which is probably the best the universe could do with what it had to work with in me.)  Legolas was kind of mad he has been in longer than I had been, but he didn't get released.  He's on his third co-chair now.  I think the universe probably hasn't given up on him yet, which is why he's still in.  He still has a chance to be released in the "other" way.  

 I feel kind of like I broke something because two weeks after I was released, the church announced that they're doing away with the activities committees, with the auxiliary committees taking up the slack.  (Our ward hasn't made the change yet, but I'm sure it's only a matter of time.)  So, stay tuned in about a year or so with what happens with my new calling, which is teaching Sunday School....

encounters at the grocery store

So, I was at my local Kroger tonight, looking for molasses.  I looked all over the baking isle, which is where I thought it would be, but I couldn't find it.  So then I thought it was probably in the syrup section, but I couldn't find that either.  I thought it would be by the pancake section, but that was also the baking isle and, well, now we're back where we started.  As it was after 10, there wasn't much in the way of people to ask, other than stockers and even those were few and far between.

Finally I found a young kid who looked promising.  (Now, before I tell this story, I just want to say that he was very young - maybe 18 tops - and probably didn't have much baking experience especially with molasses.)  I asked him where I might find some molasses and he looked at me a second, puzzled.  Then he put his hand up to his mouth and said, miming, "Like for smoking?"

And really, who among us hasn't thought of smoking molasses at one point or another in our lives?  I dare say we all have.  I was spared answering the question (forever leaving myself to wonder if we were both indeed thinking of the same kind of molasses) when another woman walked by, who I could ask.  (And, by the way, I was right - it was in the syrup section, which was in the cereal section, which I really should have thought of.  I guess.)

So, I happily checked out and as I was leaving, another young man nearly ran over me.  But he apologized by raising his case of beer and saying, "Cheers to you!"  Then looking closer at my bags he said, "Oh wait - that's not beer you have.  It's cling wrap.  Well, cheers anyway!"

the return

I have some GREAT news for you! Kristin and Erin's online book club is back after a many months hiatus (my fault).  So head on over and check it out.

Kristin and Erin's online book club.

team edward 4 life!!

Okay, you and I both know I'm not a Twilight fan.  But I have to say I'm definitely on "Team Edward" because I have the most amazing brother-in-law in the world: Todd Edward Gardner.  He is my favorite brother-in-law, by far.  Most of it is, of course, how he treats my sister, Lydia.  (Originally I wrote Bella there, but it creeped me out too much, so I changed it back to Lydia, as it should be.)  He loves her oh so very much and takes the best care of her.  He can see her for the wonderful woman that she is and he makes sure she know she loves her.  It is a wonderful thing for me, as her sister, to see.  On top of that, he's just a fun guy to be around.  He integrated himself into our slightly crazy family and accepts each one of us for who we are.  From the very beginning it seemed like he was already a part of the family that we'd been missing and I don't know how we did without him.  So, here's to Todd Edward!  Thanks for being so great.

(But, don't get a big head... you can move into second place brother-in-law at any moment if you slip up, and you know we'll be watching you.)

Heart!

(Note: I currently only have one brother-in-law.)

number 8 on the list of things not to do at a cemetery

I went to Utah this last weekend.

(To my Utah friends: I know, I know.  I'm sorry I didn't tell you I was coming.  I was really only there Saturday and Sunday and I knew I wouldn't have time to see you, so I didn't tell you.  Please forgive me.)

On Sunday,  my two sisters who live in Utah, Lizzy and Lydia, and I decided to go up to Brigham City and visit dad.  It was the first time I've been up there since he was buried.  At that time, we hadn't gotten the headstone yet and I wanted to see it.  And I just wanted to visit him.

The evening before, I went to a wedding reception.  They had flowers on the tables with vases that they said we could keep, so I took a vase and a few flowers to bring up to put on the grave.  But the vase was very light and after putting it on the grave, it kept tipping over.  After one of the tippings, I said I should probably take the vase anyway because there was a sign upon entering the cemetery that said not to bring glass or wire onto the grounds.

"What?" said Lydia.  "This isn't glass!  It's plastic - watch!"

And before we could stop her, she took the vase and hit it against the cement at the base of the headstone, whereupon it promptly shattered as it was, in fact, glass, spilling flowers, water, glass and little blue pebbles all over the ground.

The three of us looked on in shock for a second and then burst out laughing.

"Well, that solves the problem of the vase," I said.

"At least it was on mom's side and not dad's," Lydia said.

At least, indeed.  We left the flowers sans vase by the headstone, thinking dad probably wouldn't care if there was a vase or not.  Or even if there were flowers.

Lessons learned:
- When your sister tells you that a vase is made of glass, maybe find some way to test that other than breaking the vase on your father's grave, even though dad probably laughed just as hard as we did.

sometimes it's not better to be safe than sorry

I read a quote once that said something like, "If you wish to live a life free of pain, you must do without many things."  I think it is saying, in effect, that you have to take risks sometimes, even if you might end up getting hurt in the end.  If you don't ever want to get hurt then you'll live life in a way that keeps you safe, but is boring and doesn't bring you to your full potential.

That's a pretty weighty introduction to the real point of this post, which is that I made the switch to the new iPhone.

My old phone was making me crazy.  It didn't ring half the time.  It sent text messages hours later.  Plus, my contract with T-Mobile was up.  And I'd dropped my iTouch enough times that it was starting to have troubles of its own.  So I just decided to combine the phone and iPod and get the new iPhone.  Yes, I know that some people have antenna problems.  Yes, it is a little bit more expensive than my old phone.  But these are risks that sometimes just have to be taken.  (Yeah, I realized that I'm comparing my iPhone to life.)  And maybe it will end up that this switch will break my heart and make me frustrated and angry.  But sometimes you just have to take a risk in order to end up with a really rocking phone.  Plus, it feeds my crazy need to always check my email and find out answers to questions right now.

So, don't be afraid to take risks my friend.  Sometimes you end up getting burned and sometimes you end up happier than you thought you'd be.

and the last shall be first

Lydia got married a few weekends ago.  I thought I would have more to say about it, but I really don't.  It was very happy because she is so happy with Mr. Wickham.  But it had undertones of sadness because dad wasn't there (in person).  So... I'll just post some pictures.  (That's all people want from blogs anyway, isn't it?)

Hooray for Uncle and Aunt Gardner!

where's that terrible towel when i need it?

I went home to visit my mother this weekend.  We had a lovely time together.  I love my mother.  But that is actually irrelevant to this post.

Here are the relevant bits of information:
1. Mom lives in Pittsburgh.
2. Uncle Steve also lives in Pittsburgh.
3. Uncles Steve (and family) love Steelers football.
4. There was a pre-season Steelers game last Saturday.
5. Uncle Steve had extra tickets to the Steelers game on Saturday.
6. Up until about 3 seconds ago, I thought it was spelled "Stealers" and I didn't know why it was being underlined in red.

Okay, that last one wasn't really relevant, but maybe it was interesting.  (Probably not.)  Anyway, as you are very good at deduction, you have figured out by now that mom and I went to the football game with Steve last Saturday night, plus my cousins Eleanor and Alex.  I'd only ever been to one pro football game before in my life, at I was maybe twelve years old at the time, so it was a interesting experience, even though it was just "pre-season."  I enjoyed the action and seeing the plays from a totally new angle than on tv.

As interesting as football is (which incidentally isn't as interesting as baseball, in my opinion) this post wouldn't be very exciting unless Something Happened at the Game.  In this case, the Something was rain.  Our seats were under an overhang, so we didn't get the worst of it.  Until the wind started.  Then we were in the same boat (ha ha) as everyone else.  We headed for higher ground, along with most of the others in the stadium.  An announcement came on the PA and the jumbo tron that the game was being postponed for now.  We were pretty much stranded in the stands of the stadium.  This is when Alex turned to Uncle Steve and said, "Dad, can we get some nachos?"  Oh Alex.  So innocent and undeterred by the weather.  Luckily he found an unopened bag of chips to tide him over until the rain lessoned enough (about an hour later) to send him and Eleanor out for supplies.  (That is one of the benefits of being an adult - you get to make your younger cousins your minions.)

Okay, so maybe this post wasn't actually as exciting as I thought it would be as I was writing it in my head in the stadium.  But it seemed memorable at the time.  One of those things where Eleanor and I will say to each other years from now, "Remember that Steelers game we went to with hurricane force winds and rain?" And we'll smile at each other knowingly and remember it.

I'll just end with a deep thought by Jack Handy:
"Most of the time it was probably a read bad thing being stuck down in a dungeon.  But some days, when there was a bad storm outside, you'd look out your little window and think, 'Boy, I'm glad I'm not out in THAT'."

life and the minneapolis airport

I was in the Minneapolis airport this weekend; just passing through on my way to my sister Lydia's wedding.  (More on that in another post.) (probably)

For me, life is a lot like the Minneapolis airport.  Sometimes it catches you completely off guard.  Like when I got off the plane and I felt like I'd been punched in the gut because my brain forgot to prepare me for being there.  As soon as I got off the plane I realized the last time I was there was when I was on my way home from Hawaii and I got an urgent message from Big Brother to call him.  I didn't want to because I knew what he'd tell me, so I delayed.  I finished reading the book I was reading.  I shuffled around a bit.  And finally I called.  And he told me the news about my dad.  When I got off the plane this time all those memories rushed back in a second - how I wandered around like a lost soul weeping; wanting to call someone and talk about it but just not being able to.  I was angry at my brain for repressing the memory.  So, sometimes life is hard and sad and it sucker punches you when you're not looking.

As I was walking around, feeling angry at the airport for its past wrongs against me, I realized that I had pleasant memories of the airport as well.  I remembered the time I almost missed my connecting flight to Washington because I had a long layover so I made the goal to walk to every single gate in the airport and I was too stubborn to give up when time was running short.  And the time that I met up with Sleakbean on our way to London and we found the creepy Proactiv vending machine and I accidentally went into the men's restroom.  And the time Lady MacBeth and I changed into our pajamas and Legolas made fun of us when the three of us were on our way to Japan.  (It was worth all the mocking to be in our jammies for the long flight.)  

So, I guess the point is (if there really is a point?) I can't hate the Minneapolis airport because of one bad thing that happened to me there.  I'm still sad about the event, of course, but there were a lot of happy events there too.  And it's still a jumping off place for going to a lot of other places.  The analogy is that in life a lot of sad and bad things happen, but I can't hate that either.  My life isn't just the bad things.  It's the sum total of all the events in my life.  All the good and bad that happen are just part of what makes up the whole experience.  Sometimes things go smoothly and sometimes they're delayed and sometimes you realize that you've been waiting at the wrong gate for an hour.  On the whole, my life is actually pretty great - filled with moving walkways and over priced massage chairs.

But I still probably shouldn't wander into the men's restroom.

i swear, baby, he means nothing to me

Legolas and I were hanging out tonight when he found out that I am an adulteress.  It is never a good feeling to get caught cheating.  I suppose the way to avoid those feelings is to not cheat in the first place.  I don't know what I was thinking, but I really just thought I wouldn't get caught.

He was sitting at my computer checking on something, when he found the incriminating evidence.

"What is this?!" he asked, accusingly, picking it up from beside my computer and brandishing it at me.

I paled, knowing there was no way I could talk my way out of it.  "Listen," I said trying to think of an explanation, "It's just that...."

He cut me off. "This is a thank you note from a dentist!  I can't believe you went to another dentist, Kristin!  Don't I mean anything to you?"

"You do! You do!" I protested.  "It's not from a dentist, anyway.  It's from an endodontist!  Right after everything with my dad I chipped my very back tooth, but of course I didn't feel like getting it fixed then.  I just got around to doing it now and I had to get a root canal to get it fixed.  I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

He was silent a few moments.  "You know that dentists can do root canals, right?"

"Yes, I do know that," I said, desperate to make him understand.  "When I lived in Utah my dentist did a root canal.  But my dentist out here said she didn't want to do it and I needed to go to the endo guy.  He was really nice.  It didn't hurt at all and it feels a lot better."

Legolas looked at me, piercingly.  "So, you went to another dentist first, before you had the root canal.  I see."

I knew I was beat now.  There was no way out.  "I know. I'm sorry.  It's not that I don't trust you - I do!  It's just that the dental school always takes so long and it's hard with my work schedule.  I'm really sorry."  He didn't say anything.  "Can we still be friends?"

He sighed.  "Kristin, you know I'll always forgive you.  It's a low blow, but you mean more to me than that other dentist.  Just... let's talk about it first next time and see if we can work something out.  It's doing better, your tooth?"

"Yes," I said.  "It was really hurting last week, which is why I had to finally go in.  But the endodontist got it all squared away and I'm feeling a lot better."

"Well," he said forgivingly, "that is what's important.  I'm glad you're feeling good.  Let me see it."

I let him look in my mouth and was grateful for my forgiving friend.

But let it be a lesson to you - you'll always get caught in the end if you cheat.

there's traps and there's traps

I don't know why this story is in my head lately, but I figure i'll share it.  When my sister Lizzy still lived in Houston, I went to visit her.  We went to the Rothko Chapel with her friend Tye.  Just to make conversation I asked him what he liked to do.  He told me, "Pretty much all I do is work on my traps."  And I was thinking, well, that's kind of weird, but this is Texas.  I wonder if he has a lot of animals around his house and if he kills them and skins them or if he lets the animals go.  And also, I wonder why anyone would build their own traps, but again, everyone has their own hobbies.  And I wonder what kind of mechanisms he uses for his traps and if he's trying to build better and newer traps that will change the world of trapping as we know it.  I asked him what kind of traps he was building and it turns out he meant something completely different than what I was thinking.  I was a little disappointed because I was just starting to get excited by all this trapping stuff.

But the Rothko Chapel was pretty neat.

broken promises don't upset me; i just think - why did they believe me?

Well, I know I said I'd stop being serious, but I guess I've had a hard time not being so serious lately.  I've felt exceptionally sad this last little while because of my dad, most of all, and other life events.  (To those of you who just thought, "Yeah, I know what 'life events' she means, heh heh heh." I say to you, mmmmmmmnnnnnnnttttt!!*)  Sometimes the weight of it all seems like too much and I wonder how I can ever get through it.  And then I realize that there is no other way but through.  I can either get through it or I can die, I suppose, but I don't think that would help my family out very much.  The most important thing to me is whether or not I can get through it all with grace.  So far, I don't think I'm doing a bang up job, but luckily I have an awful lot of help. 

And even though I sometimes feel it is too much, I also sometimes feel like the windows of heaven have truly been opened and I don't have room to recieve all the things I'm being blessed with.   I feel like my heart has been greatly healed by the amazing friends and family I have.  It means the world to me just to have people let me know they're thinking about me, even if they maybe don't realize why they are and that they are helping me so much. 

I know I run the risk of offending people when I name people by name, because I will undoubtedly leave someone out, but I just want those of you to know that you have been such a blessing to me!  Though I'm pretty reserved by nature and don't usually reach out to other people, it means so much when people reach out to me and just let me know that they're thinking about me and that we're still friends.  I get text messages from Erika almost every other day letting me know she likes me and donuts.  I got an email from two old roommates - both named Natalie - in one day just saying they were thinking about me.  Andrew and Sachi started chatting with me in gchat just to say hi.  Steve said hi in Facebook and said he would come visit if I wanted him to.  Cody, Brandi and Stacey all emailed me.  And Braden, for just commenting on my blog every once in a while, so I know he's still reading it.  Kate is always emailing and texting and asking how she can help.  And of course there is Stephen, who is one of the best friends a girl can have.  He calls and texts and emails and lets me know that I'm doing okay.  And as a sign of true friendship, he's been on time to the things we do together for me, just because he knows how much it means to me.  He's really been there for me when I've needed him.

One of the most touching is Kacey and Erin who are taking me on a trip to Las Vegas, just so I can have something to look forward to and a reason to get away.  I'm not sure I would have ever thought to do that for someone else, but I just felt their friendship so much when they told me that they had been secretly plotting this for me.  I started crying at work, which is always fairly awkward, but luckily I work with mostly men, so I don't think anyone noticed. 

So, life is hard, but good at the same time.  I struggle through the best I can and  you take me for what I am.  And I do think I'm learning something from all of this.  At least I hope I am.

I don't have a picture this time - so how about a link to one of my favorite BYU devotionals instead?  (You can skip most of the beginning, unless you are really interested in learning about the history of nursing at BYU.  The rest is amazing.)

Learning the Healer's Art

*That is me sticking my tongue out at you

count your many blessings

I want to apologize. When I started this blog, my intent was only to write about frivolous things to make you laugh. And here is yet another fairly serious post. I just want to write a little bit about my blessings - specifically the people blessings I have in my life. After this, I promise I'll get back to frivolity.

First of all, of course, is my great family. I have wonderful parents who have taught me so much about how to live and how to love. And even though my dad is gone, I know he still loves me and is looking after me. And my mom is just great - so much strength! She is charity personified. I hope I'm ever so slowly getting to be more like her. I have three wonderful sisters who take me for who I am. They give me good advice and put up with all my craziness. And a great brother who looks after me like all big brothers should. I've really enjoyed living here in Columbus with him. And then there's my extended family. I'm really lucky to have great aunts and uncles and cousins who I can be friends with and who are just so much fun to be around.

I have some great friends too. I was having a rough day this week, so I called up my old buddy, Kreston because I knew he would tell me that I'm amazing and wonderful and even if it's not really true, it's nice knowing I can always hear that from him. It made me miss our old nights of sitting on his front step talking about anything and everything going on in our lives while I would weave things out of grass and promise that I really am giving up swearing this time and secretly wish for his creepy cat to die. (Side note: now that my secret wish has come true, I kind of feel bad for the "cat".) Life moves on and sometimes we move to Ohio, but it's nice to still have those old friends - Kreston and Erin and Kacey and Anne and Stacey and Caryn and Rebecca. (And many more that I'm not naming, but you know who you are.) They are the blessings of my time in Utah and it means a lot to me that we're still friends and I can still talk to them about seriously anything. It meant the world to me that Erin and Kacey showed up at my father's burial. And that they always tell me they can hop on the next flight and be here or meet me where ever I want, and to know that they actually mean it.

I have wonderful friends here in Ohio too. There's Erin who was my first friend here and who still sticks by me. And Stephen who dropped everything and came over the other night just because I wanted someone to talk to even though he had a big test the next day. And Lauren who is just a nice supportive roommate. (side note: I always seem to luck out in the roommate department; I haven't had many weirdo roommates. Which leads me to believe that I must be the weirdo roommate in most situations.) And Kate who is always thinking of me and how to help me and make me laugh. And Jacob who is just a good example of trying to do what's right. And everyone else in the ward who just thinks of little things to do and say to me, like sending a post card just to let me know you're thinking of me. It helps me so much.

I feel like I don't deserve to have such wonderful friends. I'm such a homebody - I just stay home and don't ever ask anyone to do anything with me. I don't feel like I am as good of a friend to you as you are to me, but I am grateful for all of you, even if I didn't specifically mention you. I take so much more than I give; I know that, but I just want you to know that I'm really grateful for you. (side note: I'm not saying this so that you'll comment saying that I really am I good friend. I know I could do so much better.)

So, thanks to all of you who have stuck with me, even though I am so very hard on you sometimes. You make my life so much the better!

the waiting is the hardest part

Everyone always says the first year after a death is the hardest.  You think, last Christmas we had such a great time in the new house.  And, this is his first birthday that he's not here.  And, last year on June 9th he hadn't even started feeling sick yet.  It's rough.  

But no one ever tells you how hard the first month is, or how you'll think things like, "On May 9th he was still alive."  Or how you feel that first week.  "I talked to him on the phone a week ago."  Or the first day when you're just wandering around in a fog, wondering what on earth could have happened. 

Nothing can prepare you for way you feel.  Even weeks later you'll be feeling fine and the next moment you'll be crying at work, hoping no one sees you and asks to help.  No on tells you that you won't want to do anything for fear that you'll always associate that thing with your father's death.  Will I forever think about dad when someone mentions Hawaii because I was on my way home when I found out?  

And even though I firmly believe in the plan of salvation and everything that it entails, all the Sunday School lessons in the world didn't prepared me for feeling sad.  I just miss my dad.  I want to talk to him about how the Indians are doing this year.  And how my job is going.  And the Werewolf and Legolas and Lady MacBeth.  I just want to sit and fall asleep on the couch while he watches whatever golf tournament is currently on tv.  

I wasn't ready for how emotional I would be all the time.  I can start crying at the drop of a hat and for no apparent reason - when I'm not even talking about dad.  I wonder how people can treat me normally as if nothing has happened, but I get angry when people treat me differently too.  I'm almost constantly thinking of dad and how I feel because he's gone.  

When we were talking to people at the funeral, a few people who had also lost their parents told us, "it never gets easier."  At first I thought this was a not very helpful thing to say.  But the more I think about it, the more I think it is perhaps the most helpful thing after all.  Everyone wants to say something to us, but hardly anyone knows what to say.  People who have never lost anyone close have no idea how hard it is.  You don't just grieve a week or two and then get over it.  It's a long lasting hole in your gut that can't be filled.  But people who have lost someone, well, that's a different story.  And, "It never gets easier" doesn't mean that everyday for the rest of my life I'm going to feel this overwhelming sadness.  It doesn't get easier, but I suspect it gets different.  

In this life there is a time for mourning, but there is also a time for rejoicing.  And sometimes these times are actually the same times.  I will always feel sad that dad isn't around, but I will always feel joy for the man that he is and the things he taught me.  I can be happy with the things happening in my life, but still be sad that dad is seeing them from the other side and not here making his subtly funning remarks about them.  That's how it never gets easier - the missing of the person you love.  But it gets different because I can know that my dad loves me and will be with me, even if I can't talk to him.  And I can miss him and still have peace that things will work out.  Just because I'm sad doesn't mean that my testimony of Jesus Christ has lessoned.  In fact, it has grown.  I know things will work out, even if they aren't how I would have planned them myself.  

I'll always miss my dad.  And while I'm waiting for things to get different, I'm glad for the people around me who understand, or at least try to, and who let me grieve in my own way.  

So, so long, Bruce.  I'm sure I'll see you again sooner than I could realize.  Love you!

frazzled part 2

One of the benefits of being kind of frazzled (flaky) is that sometimes I'll forget things and when I remember it's a pleasant surprise.  Like this recent gchat conversation I had with my sister Lizzy.

Lizzy:  What are you doing tonight?

me: Hanging out with Legolas.  I'm not sure what we're doing yet, though.

Lizzy:  Oh, you haven't hung out with him for a while.

me: I know.  It should be fun.  Tomorrow he's leaving for a cruise with his family.  He travels a lot, you know.

Lizzy:  That sounds fun for him.

me:  Yeah.  But I'm kind of bummed because I'm not sure what I'll do next weekend.  The Werewolf has to study pretty much non-stop from now until he takes his boards, so I hardly ever get to see him at all.  
me: :(
me: So, who am I going to hang out with next weekend?

Lizzy: :(
Lizzy: ......................
Lizzy:  Wait. Aren't you going to Hawaii next weekend?

me: Oh yeah.  Problem solved.  

Note:  I know that there really are any number of people I can hang out with on any given weekend.  I just spend most of my time with the Werewolf and Legolas.

nerds in bed

I couldn't sleep last night.  This doesn't happen to me very often and when it does it just makes me crazy.  So I laid there for about twenty minutes, and then decided to get up and do something productive with my time as long as I was going to be awake.  I guess this is one of the problems with me.  Instead of watching tv or reading a book or doing whatever it is people do when they can't sleep, I propped my pillow against the wall and got all snuggled in.  I turned on one lamp to set the mood - not too bright, just enough to see by.  And then I gathered my books around me and did my chemistry homework.

The funny part is that I actually enjoyed it.  I was excited when I realized I actually do know how to find the molar mass of a substance dissolved in cyclohexane when you know the density and the freezing point depression.  Before I even realized, it was 1:30 in the morning and I was genuinely tired and able to fall asleep.  Not out of boredom, but because that's when my body happened to get tired.

I'm not sure what the moral of the story is here, I'm just glad I got my homework done.  Hopefully I can fall asleep tonight because I'm all caught up.

the real problem with twilight OR this post can save your life

I know there has been quite a lot of debate on the Twilight series.  On the one hand, people repute that it teaches teenagers unrealistic expectations about romance - telling them that it doesn't matter how selfish and unconcerned you are about other people, a hundred year old gorgeous man who has had countless opportunities to love and be with other women will love you, a whiny teenager, for no apparent reason.  On the other hand, it's popular, and as we all know, popular, like, totally equals good, lol. 

I'm not going to address these issues.  I have found something more dangerous that I feel needs to be pointed out.  (Even more dangerous than reading poorly written romance novels masquerading as fantasies.)  Due to its popularity, the Twilight series is proliferating most dangerous and untrue ideas about the nature of magical creatures.

In the first Twilight book, Twilight, on page 248* Edward tells Bella that most myths about vampires are untrue. Sadly, because this books is so widely accepted, people are actually believing this fallacy.  This is causing our impressionable teens to believe it is safe to go out without garlic, holy water and holly stakes.  The girls might begin to think that if they are with a man who doesn't sparkle in the sunlight and who can't run fifty miles and hour whilst carrying them that he won't try to suck out their soul at night.  They might leave their windows open at night, leaving them susceptible to a vampire in bat form to enter.  What if a young girl is trapped in an ancient castle and comes across her host sleeping in a coffin?  She won't even know to fear for her life! 

Twilight is also propagating lies about werewolves. It teaches girls not to be afraid to go out during a full moon, when werewolves transform.  It also teaches that Native Americans between the ages of 17 and 25 pretty much run around shirtless all the time and if you make them angry they will transform into a giant wolf and hurt you, even if you are their girlfriend.  This teaches girls that Native Americans, while having some rockin' bodies, are abusive domestic partners, which is simply not true.  There is the additional issue that all werewolves are Native Americans.  According to my extensive research, only about 33% of all werewolves are in fact, Native American**.

(Side note: can anyone tell me what happens when a vampire bites a werewolf?  I've been wondering this for a while now.)

Additionally, these books teach that there are only two kinds of magical creatures: vampires and werewolves.  This means that girls are not preparing to interact with other kinds of creatures: faries, elves, dwarves, brownies, centaurs, minotaurs, orcs, shades, trolls, balrogs, nazgul, giant spiders, hippogriff, wyverns, giants, leprechauns, goombas, koopa troopas, poes, skulltulas, gobblins, unicorns, ghosts, gouls, basilisks, boggarts, dementors, pheonixes, thestrals, imps, dragons, grindylow, mermaids, pixies, yeti, griffin, astrids, cyclops, wood nymphs, harpies, hydra, zombies, wraiths, sprites, stingbulbs, witches, wizards and warlocks.

So, can we be rational about this?  Have a talk with the twilighters in your life about the dangers of magical creatures before it's too late!  Don't let the lies in the book spread to the point where it's too late to protect yourselves against the real dangers.  And for heaven's sake at least carry a crucifix and a silver bullet with you at all times!

*I made this page number up.  I do think it's in the book somewhere, but I'm too lazy to find out.

**According to the werewolves I know of: Remus Lupin. Fenrir Greyback and Jacob Black.  I think there are more werewolves in the Twilight books, but I don't know who they are and if I included them it would skew my statistics.

i think i've discovered part of the problem....

Today after work, as I was walking to my car, I had the following thought process:

"Man, today is such a nice day! It would be really fun to go running today.  Yes, today would be a good day for a run.  A fun day to run.  I'll go for a run when I get home.  It would be so fun!"

10 steps later....

"You know what would also be fun? Taking a nap...."

inverse proportions

It seems a lot of times that my life is governed by some kind of law of inverse proportions.  For example, if I want to get to work a half hour early, I end up being an hour late.  When I want to lose five pounds, I gain ten.  If I want a little time alone, I get twenty invitations to do things, or if I'm feeling particularly social, the invitations dry up.  And so on.  Recently, I've discovered that it's not my fault.  Like most problems in my life, it's all genetics.

Case in point:
About nine months ago, Lizzy decided it would be fun if our whole family tried to participate in the Myrtle Beach marathon, either running or walking the full or half.  We knew it might be a hard sell to some of the family members, but it was worth a shot.  Plus, we knew a few extended family members might be interested.  We figured all in all we might have the seven members of our immediate family, plus maybe five more from the rest of the family for a grand total of twelve Neeleys.  That was the original plan.

Then things started happening.  I'm actually not sure anyone talked to Big Brother about doing it or not, but he didn't register, so he was out.  Lydia couldn't afford to fly out, plus she was in the middle of student teaching, so she was out.  Dad was a bit under the weather and stopped training, so he was out.  Mom had to take care of dad, so she stopped training and she was out.  And then the marathon sold out.  So those family members (including Jane) who didn't register were all out.  In the end, I gave up my spot to my cousin, Jo, who really wanted to do it because I am the nicest cousin anyone could ask for.  (It may have also been that I didn't train, with this in the back of my mind.)

Those still in were Lizzy, Jo, Professor Bhaer and Marmee.  Down to four from the original twelve.  Still a pretty good showing, if not impressive.  And then the day of the race came.  And this happened:

(Yes, stolen directly from Jo's blog.)

It snowed in South Carolina.  It doesn't happen often, to be sure.  The entire marathon was cancelled because the organizers just didn't think it could be done safely.

And, in a way, I think it's partially my fault.  We went from having twelve family members to zero.  And not only zero, but we ruined it for everyone else.  From twelve to negative ten thousand.  Way to go, family.  Though, it might not be entirely our fault.  Maybe your family was registered too.

floracide

About a year and a half ago, one of my friends offered me a plant.  It was a debate as to whether or not I'd take it.  On the one hand, it was one of those vine plants that my roommate Amy had when I lived with her and I really like how they look.  I thought it would look especially good in my library.  But on the other hand, I come from a line of known plant killers.  My mother has never been able to keep plants alive.  We cringe whenever she gets plants as presents from well-meaning, yet unsuspecting people knowing the plant's days on the planet are numbered.   She even managed to kill a cactus once.

In the end vanity won out over practicality and I accepted the plant into my care.  It really did look lovely in my library.  The first year of ownership went swimmingly well.  Mostly this was due to the fact that I lived with Rachel, aka, the plant whisperer.  There was seriously no plant that she could not care for.  She probably could have nursed any plant to good health.  So my role in caring for my newly acquired plant was to let Rachel take care of it.  Once she asked me to water it, and all her other plants, for a week when she was gone, but I'm pretty sure I forgot and she had to do damage control when she got back.

Now that Rachel and I are no longer roommates, about once every week or two (or longer) you'll hear this from somewhere in my apartment 

"Oh! My damn plant!"

(Sorry, mom, for using "the d word" in the above paragraph.)

This exclamation will occur when 1. I notice my plant and 2. I remember that I have not watered it for one or two weeks (or longer).   I really have no idea how this plant has managed to stay alive under my care.  I definitely have my mothers genes.  I know nothing about plants, not even what kind this one is other than "vine".  And if you want to get technical, I think my vine plant is actually two plants.  Perhaps vines originated from the desert and don't need much care?  What would I know - I really know nothing about plants.  All I know is this looks pretty good:

the view from my window

I'm stealing the title of the Time Traveler's Wife's blog for this post.  (Hey - you get a pseudonym now! I hope you like it...)  For the last bit of forever, it's been snowing here in Columbus.  Rather than talk about it, I'll just show you...

From my bedroom...

(so you can see I'm not exaggerating the size of the icicles some how.)

From my roommate's bedroom...

From the back porch....

From the living room window...

I curse the groundhog that brought this upon us!

one of *those* people

I've been awfully busy lately. 

First of all I have a full time job, and they seem to want me there 40 hours a week every week. 

And then I'm in school right now.  (Quick update if you didn't know: I want to go back to school for a degree in bioinformatics, but I need a much stronger chemistry background than I currently have.)  That takes longer than I remember in my undergrad.  I mean, I have to go to class twice a week after work. Plus, I have to study and do homework. 

And then around those things, I have to try to work in things like exercising and going to church and doing my laundry and cleaning the house.  (Okay, as Scartlet will probably not tell you because she's too nice but what she thinks is that I don't really clean the house all that much.)

So because of all these distractions I've really had a hard time fitting in my first true love in life, which as you know is being with people and sharing my love with them.

No, I kid.  People can go hang as far as I care.  My first true love is, of course, reading.  But reading is easily to put aside when you have a chemistry lab write-up to finish and no clean underwear.  So, how does one find time to read?  Well, for me, I've had to resort to what I did when I was getting my undergrad.  That is, I have to read while doing other things.

I mean, do you even realize how much time you waste in life that could be spent reading?  Of course there is the standard reading-while-eating.  But I've had to expand it to anything I can.  I read before class starts and during our class breaks. I read while brushing my teeth and blow drying my hair. I read while waiting for the elevator and in the elevator.  I've even taken to reading while walking to and from wherever I'm headed.  Yes, even that.

(Aside: I was annoyed with myself today because I forgot to bring the book I'm reading with me to work to read at lunch, etc.  But then I realized that I literally had ten library books in my car, so I just picked one of those to bring in.  Problem solved.)

So, I guess until things slow down a bit (i.e. spring break) I guess this will be how I'll get in my reading.  As to how I will work in being with my friends, well, I just have to say, keep it down - I'm trying to read here.

um.. yeah... i'm sure it's fine there... i'll be back for it....

Today is Legolas's birthday. (Happy birthday, Legolas!)  Since he is going out of town this weekend, the Werewolf and I took him out last weekend.  We started out with a good dinner at Bravo!  Then we went shopping.

Legolas love shopping. He is very fashionable and he's always trying to get the Werewolf and I to get new things.  So we told him as part of our present to him, we would go shopping and buy something for ourselves.  It was just what he wanted.

I'm not a really big shopper myself (hence Legolas's wish that I buy some new things) and after what felt like about fifteen hours, but was probably only about 45 minutes I was just tiredly following along with the other two.  I'm not sure what store we were in, but the Werewolf and I were looking at something (I don't know what) and Legolas was in another part of the store.  He called us over to look at something else and we started to walk over when this exchange took place.

Me: "Oh, hey, the Werewolf.  You left your bag and coat here."

The Werewolf: "Oh. I was just going to leave them there for a second."

Me: "Aren't you worried that someone might steal them? Or that you'll accidently forget them?"

The Werewolf: "Yeah, you're probably right.  I'll grab them."

He took his stuff, and we started to walk away when the Werewolf stopped and raised his eyebrows and gave me a look.  And then he looked pointedly at my bag that I had forgot I set down next to a clothes rack and was about to leave behind.  I sheepishly picked it up and headed off to see what Legolas was excited about.

I'd probably forget my head if it wasn't screwed on.

Happy birthday Legolas!
And Happy birthday Scout too!

frazzled part 2

Last night my hands were dry (a common theme in winter) so I decided to put some lotion on.  I keep my lotion in a closet at the top of the stairs.  So, I took my ring off and put it on the little ledge above the stairs.  When my hands were nice and moisturized, I looked for my ring to put it back on, but it was gone! I'm very talented at losing things, but this was even faster than usual as I hadn't moved from the spot I was in.  I thought that I must have somehow knocked it off the ledge. 

I looked on the stairs, but it wasn't there.  I looked on the other side of the ledge.  I looked in my bedroom, to see if it had somehow rolled in there.  I looked in the living room to see if it had rolled down the stairs and bounced in there.  I checked under the bookshelf that currently resides on the foot of the stairs.  I couldn't find it anywhere!  So I checked all the places again. And again.  And finally I just had to give up and hope I would somehow choose the right when I went out, even without my ring reminding me.  I hoped the ring would turn up somewhere eventually.

This morning I got up and went through all my morning rituals.  I opened the lotion closet to get something out and right there on the shelf was my ring!  I'm really not sure how I convinced myself so thoroughly that I put my ring on the ledge that I didn't even think to look in the closet.  But at least I'll make correct choices again today.  Just don't hold me responsible for my actions last night....

(I hope this will tide you over for now, KKBC and BAC.  I'll try to keep up better in the future.)