Saturday, March 27, 2010


Katherine and Chuck got in at a little after 2 a.m. Wednesday morning. We went to breakfast at about 10 (every step of the way Katherine was Oohing and Aahing over how nice everyone was and how beautiful the sunshine is), then spent the rest of the day and night unpacking. We took a short break to eat at Wing Central, the sports bar across the street, and to get a few perishable goods from Super One, then got home and the process continued. Since they'd spent days before they left packing up and cleaning, and since I started the cleaning/rearranging process in my own apartment as soon as I got up Monday morning, it was nice to finally get everything moved and unpacked Thursday evening so that yesterday we could have a day off. I have to say, as excited as I am to have roommates, I'm still pretty bummed I spent my Spring Break doing nothing but manual labor.

There's still some sorting and tidying to do, but for the most part we're good to go. I worked a miracle on the kitchen, we got the living room (which is absolutely massive) arranged, and I have all of my furniture in my room. Kat and Chuck are a bit crowded (mostly because they both have desks and they have a LOT of clothes yet to put away) but we're all pretty comfortable. When Garrett gets here it will be a bit of a tight fit, but we don't mind close quarters, so it's still good.

Yesterday my friend Anthony wanted to meet up for pizza. Since I'd just finished making myself sick to the point of needing to purge from eating Oreos literally the moment before he sent me the text, I told him I wasn't hungry, but asked if he wanted to meet up with me and my roommates on campus. Chuck decided not to go, so Katherine and Anthony and I explored a bit. It was pretty fun. We had the geology/physics departments all to ourselves, which meant Shennanigans --> video .

Next week we'll get them signed onto the lease (and also put in a work order since my oven/range doesn't really work), utilities, etc. Oh, we have internet, through which connection I am blogging.

The alternator in my car died. Fortunately, with the money I'm saving by having roommates, and my budgeting skills over the past few months, I can afford to replace it along with my tires, break pads, timing belt, and wiper blades. I'm sure there are a few other things that need to be fixed, but I should have no problem replacing those too. My car's held up pretty well considering how many miles I have put on it since I got it. There were about 100,000 on it initially (it's a '94), and now I think it's well over 160,0000 (I got it in April of 2007) so I've rapidly put some serious wear and tear on it. I drive it way too fast, drove over a bolder after Christmas, and go double the time I should between oil changes, so the fact that it's made it this long is a miracle. I'm excited to finally give it some love, because it deserves it. :)

Monday, March 15, 2010

It is, once again, the final countdown. I have a crush.

It's finals week here in Ellensburg. Waiting to meet up with a friend to go over our study guide for tomorrow's final. I've never been so happy to end a quarter. Normally, as stressful as school is, I ENJOY classes. I enjoy the challenge and the work and the never-ending workload. This quarter was crap. That's all there is to say. I am also FINALLY over my sickness. It'll take another day or two to fully recover, my sinuses are a little worn out from all the snuffling, but I could breathe through both nostrils all day yesterday AND all night last night. I slept like a corpse. It was fabulous.

Last night I made a marvelously shocking discovery. You may remember last year I ecstatically shared that I 'did the social' and went to a BBQ at my mate Adam's house. I've mentioned him off and on as the charming half-Australian Marine/historian who sends me affectionately lewd drunk texts in the wee hours of the morning. Adam does just about every disgusting thing a guy can do to make me want nothing to do with him: showed up to class hung over (or drunk), says dirty things to me, spends his weekends getting wasted, etc.

I'm going to be completely honest here, though. When Adam does these things they're endearing.

Adam comes to class hung over (or drunk) on time and aces finals. Adam says dirty things to me while calling me "goddess," "my love," or "dear" and always makes sure I know that he appreciates my intellect and humor as well as my body. Adam spends his weekends getting wasted with his family after their formal dinner (a weekly tradition). He keeps himself in good shape, so not only do I NOT mind when he talks about my looks I actually take it as a compliment (I can't tell you how infuriating it is to be objectified by a slob). He has beautiful manners, so he never says anything rude (even if what he's saying is completely inappropriate). He works like crazy and is not much of a texter, so I don't hear from him often - but I do hear from him regularly. He asks me how I'm doing (again, always calling me "my love" or "dear"), gives me recommendations of good books to read or *fun movies to watch. He loves classic films and literature, loves to give his mum back rubs, and once mentioned that he ran track in high school and then at Eastern Washington University (and of course there was **the race he had the night he graduated).

I was missing him a bit last night so I decided to be a creepy computer nerd and stalk him (yes, I'm finally getting to the point now). With what little useful information I have I googled him. At first I got nothing more than an empty profile on But, recalling that he ran track I added that to my keyword search. I ended up on the website for the Track and Field High School Records page and found his name under the 4x800. Adam's split is the second fastest, barely 2 seconds shy of teammate Chris Lukezic. I'm sure Adam thinks "Hey, that was years ago, I was 18." But that record is still unbroken.

I'm not blogging about this because I'm so amazed that I have a friend who once did something amazing. I have friends who own their own businesses , and of course there's my dad. I'm blogging about this because he said nothing. Here we have a college guy with a crush on a college girl who intimidates him, a guy who is so shy he feels he has to ***trick her into going on a "date" with him, who only casually mentions - after she asked specifically if he did any sports in high school - that he ran track. He didn't try to impress her with the fact that he and his three friends hold the fastest 4x800 relay time in national high school history, or that his split was just two seconds shy of a man who went on to run professionally.

That's just the kind of guy Adam is. Hot.

* He once texted me to tell me that he wanted to watch Seven Brides for Seven Brothers with me. No, he wasn't kidding. No, he's not gay.

** Adam and I had a few dates before he left school, and I was pretty fond of him. The final we had for Dr. Hot Prof's class was his final-final. He walked out the door without looking back at me and I was absolutely crushed because I didn't think I'd ever hear from him again. Silly me. He sent me a lewd text (which I won't share) at about 11:30 that night, when I was in bed. Being a bit alarmed by it (as it was NOT affectionately framed), I ignored the text and fell asleep. I woke up at 1:30 with a voicemail on my phone (the fact that I don't have it anymore is one of the saddest things ever) that was so chipper I almost laughed until I cried. He was calling to see if I would come pick him and his friend Josh up from the bars, but since I didn't answer he assumed I had NOT found his text funny and apologized. He told me that he hoped to take me out again, etc, and wished me a good night. Of course I immediately called him back to find out where he was so I could come and get him, but feeling bad that he'd woken me up he insisted that he and Josh were almost home and that I should not come pick them up. "No, no, we're going to race to each stop sign and then we'll be there." He put me (well, his phone) in his pocket and he and Josh proceeded to race down the middle of the streets of Ellensburg. At 2 a.m. Barefoot. (Adam won.)

*** The day before our last final, Adam and I agreed to meet up with another classmate, Spencer, and go over the study guide to make sure we all had proper answers. I showed up, sat at a table. Adam showed up, sat across from me. We made smalltalk for a while, I got utterly lost in the incredible blueness of his eyes (yes, I'm that person), and then got to studying. About halfway through the study guide I asked "Is Spencer coming?" Adam shrugged, "I dunno." "Well, shouldn't you text him so he can come and get answers?" "Yeah, but then it wouldn't be a date." Adorable.

Thursday, March 11, 2010


My friend Jessie, a fellow military child, began her blog today by sharing how she explains where she's from. I enjoyed reading this, as I regularly have to do the same. My most recent experience was at a party. Every single person was from Washington, and all of them from North/West Washington at that. For those of you who don't know, Walla Walla is in southeastern Washington on the border of Oregon. (Already I'm a loser). But of course I feel like even more of an outcast because I am not actually from Walla Walla. The strange thing about growing up in the military is that you can only claim to be "from" somewhere if you aren't currently living there.

Growing up, most of my friends had military parents, so the question "Where are you from?" actually means "Where did your dad/mum join the military?" Therefore, until I was 15, my answer was always "Hermiston, Oregon." On a side note, my parents always said they were from "eastern Oregon" but until I actually moved here I had no idea where Hermiston was located. Anyway, once my dad retired we moved to Athena, "eastern Oregon." Athena is about an hour east of Hermiston. I think I met one or two people at school who were NOT born and raised in Athena (or the neighboring towns of Helix, Adams, and Weston). They were born in Pendleton (half an hour west of Athena). It's not possible to tell someone who's never been an hour from their home that I'm "from" their part of the world when I'd never even lived there before.

Because Athena was so small and everyone knew who we were before we moved in, I almost never had to answer this question. But now that I'm in college, with a student body so diverse that people might have actually been born on the other side of the state, my answers have gotten more complex. Whenever people ask me from whence I came I must now return "Do you want the long answer or the short answer?" Typically The Curious request the short, followed by the long. The short is that I'm from Walla Walla. The long is "My dad was a Marine officer for 23 years, so I grew up all over." Surprise and awe quickly follow, as does the forehead-slappingly ignorant shock inevitably expressed when I tell them I was born in Japan: "You're Japanese?!" Such a question was acceptable in the third grade. When a 20-something college student thinks I'm foreign because I was born in another country I immediately have to fight down the urge to screw with them. "Yes, I'm Japanese. I actually work for the Japanese government. Yeah, they're paying for my degree."

+ This is why I hate CNN:
First of all, the title doesn't make sense. "How to save a friend from the brink." The brink of what? Oh, suicide. Coulda been disaster, extinction (not far off, I suppose), divorce. Second, if they're describing suicide as standing dangerously close to a precipice, why then did they illustrate their story with an image of a woman about to burst through a womb?

+ Jessica: A girl in our ward in Virginia got paralyzed after hitting a tree while sledding. Yeah, my stories aren't funny. I think your next blog post needs to be about the woman who felt like a man. Unless you've already blogged about it, in which case I think you need to direct me toward that gem post-haste.

Friday, March 5, 2010


* All in all, a boring, miserable week. But I am very much looking forward to the future, and hope that, for the first time since I started blogging, I will actually have some interesting things to write about! Here's a brief list of things I've got planned with my sister/bro-in-law:

* Hiking
* Watching Disney movies
* Stationary-bike Races at the gym in the SUB
* fish and chips on the coast

* One more week plus finals and this quarter is over. TWO MORE WEEKS until I have roommates! YAY!

* I made two delightful discoveries:
1) A new brand of hummus at Super One which isn't an assault on the taste buds.
2) How to make said hummus taste almost-delicious: cinnamon.

* I woke up at 2:30 last Friday morning with the most severe pain in my throat. It was only one spot, it felt like someone had burned it with a cigarette. I reflexively sat up and gulped down some water, then felt good enough to exchange a few texts with Adam (who has the charming habit of sending me flattering and inappropriate text messages when he's been drinking, and only ever after 1 a.m.), then fell asleep (though not before reaching up to brush my hair off my face only to discover that said hair was actually a bug. Iewsickpanic. Flickflickshudderiew.). I woke up the next morning and my entire throat was sore and my nose was stuffy. Fortunately, a week later, I can happily share that it was not a repeat of last year's Cold from Hell (which, apparently, I never blogged about - it was dreadful) but was a mild cold which I was able to survive with hot tea and only a few sips of cold medicine. And lots of tissues. To be honest, my nose got the worst end of the deal, it'll be a few days before the chapping goes away.

* Despite being sick and intentionally keeping myself up as late as possible to distract myself from being sad I have been waking up at about 7 a.m. every single morning. I cannot tell you how delighted I am to be back on a normal schedule. I am an early-to-bed, early-to-rise kind of lady, and I have no doubt that part of the reason I've been so much more depressed this year than the last few is because my sleep schedule's been a bit off. Sleeping past 8:00 is sleeping-in to me, and it really upsets me for some reason. I've felt (and been) much more productive and feeling a lot happier now that I'm up before 8. Unfortunately I have a sneaking suspicion that this will all be messed up again when Katherine and Chuck move in, as they are my polar opposites when it comes to study and sleep habits. I will try to be flexible and accommodating. :)

* I've been having a pretty rough time the last few months, but have really succeeded in keeping my spirits up (well, relative to the incredible amount of pain I'm in). My reward for surviving yesterday (not only surviving, but managing to have a happy evening!) was to get some beautifully affectionate texts from Adam (nothing lewd, and at a reasonable hour no less!) and an invitation to a party from my mate Anthony. Of course, being the non-social Marine child that I am, I was entirely confused about what the hell time he wanted me to actually show up, and by the time it was established I'm pretty sure he regretted mentioning it at all. The problem I have is that I hold the strictest belief that if I am not at least 15 minutes early (for anything) then I am late. That makes it a real challenge when someone tells me that a party is at 9, but won't be "poppin" until 10. Do I show up at 8:45? or 9:45? We finally reached a compromise whereby I would leave my apartment at exactly 9:00 tonight and walk speedily to his house across campus, with an ETA of 9:20. He said I "over thought" the entire thing, but....well, that's just me. People think I'm so weird, but that's not fair. I'm not any weirder than anyone else, my weirdness just manifests itself in a slightly-less-common way. I mean...some people like to stick their tongues into other people's ears the first time they hang out. And some people need an exact time in order to show up to a casual party. :)

Self Medication (not safe for work):