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Dear Diary,
I was on my way to the JFSB across from the JKB, not to be confused with the JSB where I take D & C, to meet by BFF. I was trying to convince her to change to MFHD instead of PDBIO, so she can graduate with her MRS degree instead of a PHD. But, she said she wants her PHD or maybe to become an M.D. to be a DR. Plus, if she really wanted to be an MRS, she would have gone to Rexburg at BYU-I-DO, where it's a "ring before spring or your money back."
"True that," I said, but to get through to her head, I mentioned UVSC, now UVU, or LDS BC in SLC, where unlike at BYU she would actually have time for a little R & R or TLC for her ward's hott EQP.
"True that," she said, but I stopped in my stead, 'cause I realized I had to cath the UTA because it was Monday, and gosh golly me.....it's almost FHE!
Upon arriving home, I wasn't alone. My roomie was eating ice cream while watching MTV, and I thought, "OMG!" I mean, WWJD? Something was wrong. That filthy media didn't belong. I told her, "Remember who you are! And CTR!" But, I found out she was grieving the DTR with the VL guy she had met at our ward's last Munch & Mingle were everyone's single, AKA "Meet and Greet" or "Linger Longer" or "Chat & Chew" or my personal favorite "Flirt & Feed" where a cute RM is all you need. Because, a boy ain't a man 'til he comes home from his mission. And, we don't like boys. We throw rocks at them. But, we like men. They give us rocks. Unless the dude just got home, then leave him alone, because everyone knows, as the saying goes, "Say no to pot. Say no to crack. Say no to the missionary who just got back."
Speaking of missionaries, at FHE where it was BYOS (which I forgot I confess) our Dad told us endless tales about his 2 years in Wales. He spoke like a Brit...and I wondered, "Was the accent legit?" He's been back for a year, was he being sincere?
After the stories were done, I left for a DI run. I found a Mo-Tab CD and a Princess Bride DVD. But before I was through, I ran into Sue who I met years ago at EFY who's now dating the guy that was an RA at DT (may it R.I.P.) who once tried to have a NICMO with me. It had all started, it's true, when he had asked me, "Is your name Virtue?" I had said no and asked why. He said, "Because you've been garnishing my thoughts unceasingly" with a wink of his eye.
And that was my day. Let us give thanks and pray for the flippin' sweet Happy Valley way (of life)! :)
Acronym Glossory:
AKA: Also Known As
BFF: Best Friend Forever
BYOS: Bring Your Own Scriptures
BYU: Brigham Young University
CTR: Choose the Right
D & C: Doctrine & Covenants
DI: Deseret Industries
DT: Deseret Towers (the old dorms at BYU that were tragically torned down)
DTR: Define the Relationship
EFY: Especially for Youth
EQP: Elders Quorum President
FHE: Family Home Evening
JFSB: Joseph F. Smith Building at BYU
JKB: Jesse Knight Building at BYU
JSB: Joseph Smith Building
LDS BC: Latter-day Saint Business College
MFHD: Marriage, Family, and Home Development major at BYU
Mo-Tab: Mormon Tabernacle Choir
NICMO: Non-Commital Make Out
OMG: Oh My Goodness!
PDBIO: Physiology and Developmental Biology major at BYU
RA: Resident Assistand (the peer supervisor they have in BYU dorms)
R.I.P.: Rest in Peace
R & R: Rest & Relaxation
SLC: Salt Lake City
TLC: Tender Loving Care
UTA: Utah Transit Authority (the bus)
UVSC: Utah Valley State College
UVU: Utah Valley University (the other "university")
VL: Virgin Lips
WWJD?: What Would Jesus Do?
What's the deal with Happy Valley frozen yogurt? Sure, it's not half bad....but that only means it's half good. Though, that's not my problem...I think they should be charging half the price . If real ice cream from fancy smancy ice cream shops costs around 4 bucks, why should a similar product with HALF of the calories cost 4 bucks too? You're only getting half as much!!! I think I walked out hungrier than I was before I consumed the frozen dairy treat. And really, charging half the price would almost be overcharging because we all know that frozen yogurt is just a stones throw away from a snow cone. Yet, the price of snowcones even depreciates in the winter because instead of buying crushed ice, we can literally just walk outside, scoop up some of that fluffy white stuff, and make our own for free (well...after paying a few cents for a drizzle of sugary surupy goodness...which technically you don't even have to worry about if your fortunate enough to find that extra special naturally yellow snow...pssshhh...and I bet that it even has more vitamins and minerals than frozen yogurt even with organic fruit topping!). What about Hawiaan Ice , you may ask? Well, they can charge more for that than a snow cone because of the name...it's exotic. That's saying something. It may be rediculous, but really...we do it all the time....buy things for the name that is. I mean, you could see the same red T-shrit at the Gap and buy it for 30 bucks just because it says "GAP," when you can find the exact same T-shirt at Walmart without the logo for $5. Okay, you're right....Walmart clothing quality is drastically subpar in relation to the Gap (baaad example), but work with me here. Frozen yogurt on the other hand...that doesn't even have a spiffy name. In fact, it brings to mind a crude visualization of sticking Go-Gurts in the freezer for kicks...still definitely not worth 4 bucks thank you very much.
I'm boring. Once again I'm reverting to blogging about the life of someone else (instead of moi...I know that's disappointing...but don't be too sad, k?). haha. I blame finals :)
My friend's girlfriend was telling us a very awkward dating story last night...probably one of the best ones I've heard. She was on a double date at the movies. The two girls were sitting in the middle, and there was a guy at each end. Apparently, each guy was really into makin' a move on their date that night and smoothly went to hold their date's hand. When one of the girls looked down, she noticed that the boy's were unknowingly holding each others hands. I didn't get a super good mental picture of the logistics of how this exactly happened....but who cares....it did! Haha!!! The best part is was not only were the two boys holding hands, but there was also hand CARESSING going on. They must have been using some intense femmy moisturizers or something to realize they weren't holdin' the hand of a true girl. Or, maybe they were just used to holding man hands? Let's not judge ;)
Hey there. So, I heard a story true story today from a girlie at school that had me smiling, so I thought I'd pass on the love. She has a brother that helped deliver a baby in the hospital for his job the other day. Wanting to congratulate the mother on her new bundle of joy, the brother looked to see what the baby was named before he went in the mother's hospital room. The patient file or birth certificate or whatever he looked at read "Da-a." Puzzled with the logistics of pronunciation, he guessed the name sounded something like "Duh" or "Day uh" or "Day." I mean, what would you guess? He proceeded into the hospital room and said, "Congratulations on your daughter, Da-a!" However, the new mother quickly correctly him, filling him in that the dash wasn't silent and her daughter's name was "Duh dash uh." The baby was totally caucasion too, so it's not like she even has ethnic coolness to pull off a name like that. Poor thing. A name: one of the first blessings or cursingings you can give your poor, defenseless offspring.
The Meet Market. After last night, I've decided to go vegetarian. Let me clarify: I'm officially staying away from those places disguised as innocent fun, but meticulously designed to result in boy-girl social interactions geared towards dating.
I looove dancing. So, country swing dancing sounded perfect....but I was sorely deceived. I refuse to ever again get dressed up to stand in a line of females while our male counterparts gaze up and down the line looking for one of us that suits his fancy. It was really, truly like the supermarket meat department...disgusting and all. And, every one of us chicas was left wondering if we were being looked at as a sirloin steak, chuck roast, or low-grade hot dog.
When I'm hott, I'm HOOOTTT. Well, not really...but I've gotten into the worst habit of bloggin' a bunch at one time instead of spreadin' the love out during each month.
Let me tell you all about my recent thoughts on "EXPIRATION DATES"
So, as I was casually sipping my pristine clean, sublimely refreshing beverage (often referred to as water) from a plastic bottle, I realized something I had never noticed before---AN EXPIRATION DATE. Now, I know I'm not the fountain of all knowledge (more like a water filled pot hole that you would find in the Dollar Store parking lot) but honestly...it blew my mind...why exactly does my bottle of water NEED an expiration date?
On the other hand, I have a ticking time bomb currently in my fridge. I bought a half gallon of milk right before Thanksgiving break so I could still enjoy my Cinnamon Toast Crunch (or at least the off brand of that stellar cereal that comes in the big bag instead of a colorfully decorated box which often includes a toy of some sort because as I've mentioned before I'm cheap like that). Yesterday, as I went to eat a bowl of that cinnamony complete and utter goodness, I abruptly stood petrified as I took note that the milk's death date. Yes, there is indeed no such thing as a jug of milk's "expiration date," but there is an anticipated "death date" when the cow juice abruptly turns unsalvageable and horribly stinky (which in my book qualifies as a death date because it is far worse a scenario than when other normal foods expire).
Anyway, I was suddenly forced with a sticky (or possibly stinky or chunky which would make me pukey) delimma as to whether I would whiff the milk in hopes that is was still consumable. Craving those cinnamon and sugar swirls, I sucked it up and did. Fortunately, all was swell and I was able to use it....but today is DECEMBER 2nd!!! Is my milk okay still? I'm afraid....very afraid...which brings me to my point. There should be at least SEVERAL dates on each jug of milk:
1st: The date that specifies up until when your milk is 100% garunteed to be fresh and yummy
2nd: The date that specifies up until when your milk is most likely still in superb condition
3rd: The sketchy date that specifies when the milk is probably on the verge of going bad
4th: The anticipated death date (this is the one currently on our jugs today but is completely insufficient as we know it)
5th: The past the point of no return date which specifies when you should plug your nose and discard immediately
Am I right, or am I RIGHT? That's what I thought :)
Heaven forbid....If I wake up one day and find myself dead....and there is NOT a Krispy Kreme store in sight....I KNOW I will have ended up in hell. There are just some things in the world that are so heavenly that if for some reason they weren't included in the world to come, I think it would be a pretty good indication that I had arrived in that infamously miserable place where the weather is always uncomfortably warm (eh em...more like SCORCHING).
Other things not included in H---E---Double Hockey Sticks:
1. Chocolate cake
2. Puppies
3. Tweezers
