Confession: I apparently suffer from a slight case of masklophobia: fear of mascots.
I was reminded of this fact while having lunch with a friend on campus today. I noticed my friend glance behind me and turned to see what she was looking at. Pressed against the window (not right behind me, but across the room) was a giant lumberjack! Well, giant as in a regular-sized person dressed in khakis and a flannel shirt and wearing a giant lumberjack head, complete with scruffy faux-hair and a funky lumberjack hat. I felt a twinge of fear, but calmed myself, knowing that the mascot could not confront me from outside. A minute later, however, I heard heavy steps behind me, and my friend warning me not to look behind me, before the lumberjack walked by, holding a large poster. Grateful that I had not been accosted by the giant wood-cutter, I suggested to my friend that we get going before it made a round trip back to our table. We walked away, only to see another lumberjack further down the hall! They were ganging up on me! When we made a second pass on our way out, my friend graciously walked on the side of the hall closest to the terror. I found myself actually exhibiting physical signs of fear: my heart rate increased, my stomach flipped around, and I was very nearly visibly shuddering. Not good.
This was not my first experience in on-campus mascot terror. A few years back, while studying in one of the campus lounges, a giant red blood drop came up and grabbed my arm, using a gloved finger to tap the place where the blood-drivers would extract my blood donation. It freaked me out! I said something about how I had to go to class soon, and the blood drop left me alone. It's not like you can make much of an argument when you can't say anything.
This leads me to my first reason that mascots/people dressed in costumes covering their heads creep me out. They can't say anything for fear of "breaking character", they're always pantomiming, and, quite frankly, mimes creep me out too. I then find myself awkwardly wondering if I'm supposed to say anything to mascots. Their hearing is probably impaired by the giant plastic heads, and they can't answer anyway! And where do I look while talking? Their "eyes"? Where I suppose their actual eyes might be? Where?! And, speaking of eyes, where are they looking? I mean, are they secretly leering at me, thinking that since I can't see them it exempts them from social mores? Did the mascot get their job as a cover for their perverted ogling, staring at people all day while no one is the wiser? Do mascots have to submit to a background check before donning the mask to avoid such behavior? So many creepy things to consider.
On the other side of things.... I happen to love Disneyland, where costumed characters run amok through the park. I do admit to feeling slightly awkward around them, for sure, but I'm definitely not creeped out. I suppose it's because we expect them to be there, rather than them sneaking up on you, and because the Magical Kingdom isn't really the type of place at which you expect to be leered at...towards... Anyway...
So there it is: terrified of lumberjacks and blood drops. Friend of Mickey and Minnie.
The end.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Snow, Wheels, and a Pair of Heels
Today I present to you a tale of risk, a tale of adventure, a tale...of a journey to a job interview. Yesterday I left my home to find my car covered in snow from the storm the previous evening. Quickly, I swept the snow off my windshields, telling myself that the snow on top would most likely blow off on the road. Little did I know...
I arrived at a stop light and came to a complete stop. Suddenly, my vision was obscured, and then completely cut off, as the snow from the roof of my car came cascading down onto my windshield. Thoonk thoonk thoonk. Panicked, I quickly switched my wipers on to their highest speed in an attempt to clear my field of vision. The wiper blades were able to clear off the windshield, but there still remained a looming mound of snow on the hood of my car, denying me a clear view of the road. I made it through the intersection, but quickly realized that I wouldn't feel safe driving the remainder of the way with the vast amount of snow remaining on my car.
Reluctantly, I pulled my car over to the side of the road (enduring more cascading thoonks as I once again came to a stop) and exited the vehicle, ice scraper/snow brush in hand. I did pretty well on the driver's side, but as I moved to clear off the passenger side, I realized that I had a major problem: the side of the road that I was approaching was a tad slickish and sloped down into a ditch filled with gross, dirty water. I briefly considered getting back into my car and calling it good, but as the majority of the snow was, in fact, on the passenger side, I knew I had no choice but to brave the perils of slick road and muddy water. Did I mention I was in 4 inch heels?
Slowly, I made my way to the other side of my car, grasping to the front of my hood with one hand while brushing off all the snow that I could. Seeing that my car was nearly cleaned off, I dared to move a little further, but I slipped and nearly fell (my shoes weren't much in the way of traction), so the wise choice seemed to be getting back into my car. Having done this, I went on my merry way to the interview, to which I was still able to arrive on time.
I arrived at a stop light and came to a complete stop. Suddenly, my vision was obscured, and then completely cut off, as the snow from the roof of my car came cascading down onto my windshield. Thoonk thoonk thoonk. Panicked, I quickly switched my wipers on to their highest speed in an attempt to clear my field of vision. The wiper blades were able to clear off the windshield, but there still remained a looming mound of snow on the hood of my car, denying me a clear view of the road. I made it through the intersection, but quickly realized that I wouldn't feel safe driving the remainder of the way with the vast amount of snow remaining on my car.
Reluctantly, I pulled my car over to the side of the road (enduring more cascading thoonks as I once again came to a stop) and exited the vehicle, ice scraper/snow brush in hand. I did pretty well on the driver's side, but as I moved to clear off the passenger side, I realized that I had a major problem: the side of the road that I was approaching was a tad slickish and sloped down into a ditch filled with gross, dirty water. I briefly considered getting back into my car and calling it good, but as the majority of the snow was, in fact, on the passenger side, I knew I had no choice but to brave the perils of slick road and muddy water. Did I mention I was in 4 inch heels?
Slowly, I made my way to the other side of my car, grasping to the front of my hood with one hand while brushing off all the snow that I could. Seeing that my car was nearly cleaned off, I dared to move a little further, but I slipped and nearly fell (my shoes weren't much in the way of traction), so the wise choice seemed to be getting back into my car. Having done this, I went on my merry way to the interview, to which I was still able to arrive on time.
Friday, February 25, 2011
"But How Can You Know What You Want 'Til You Get What You Want And You See If You Like It?"
Stephen Sondheim, you are a genius.
I've been thinking a lot recently about what I want. It seems that there's always an ideal in your head, or something that you at least think is ideal, but the ideal doesn't always turn out to be so...ideal. Know what I mean? I've had several possibilities rolling around in my head lately of what I think I want. Here are some of them (in no particular order):
1. I want a job where I get full time hours, make decent money, and have a set schedule (or one I set myself) that doesn't include Sundays that involves something I'm actually good at. I would love to have some job land in my lap that would involve proofreading textbooks at home or something. That's the ideal, but as soon as I find myself looking for a new job, I start panicking over everything that would change: I'd lose seniority and find myself the new person that knows nothing, without the benefit of being surrounded by close friends. I actually had an interview this past week for a job that I really do want, but I get scared and start thinking about running away. What if I'm no good at a new job? What if everyone hates me? What if I can't get time off for my trip to Nashville to see my brother graduate from law school? I know that it will be worth it in the end to have a good job that I'll grow to love, but since I notoriously over-think, it stresses me out anyway.
2. I want to get married. (Now, I know what you're thinking: it'll happen when it happens. Just read the entire post and you'll know that I'm aware of these things.) I'd almost like to say that I'd be cool if I ever even went on a date, but quite honestly, I'd like to just fall in love with a friend and have that be that (remember that these are ideals...which is sometimes synonymous with delusion). I don't want to deal with the stress of being shot down and not being liked back. At least when I don't date, I can't find myself in the middle of a relationship that isn't going anywhere no matter how much I want it to (that's just an example; not based in real life).
3. I want summer. This is less serious, but there it is. I'm tired of being cold and I'm tired of the sun going down so early. I want to wear shorts and short sleeves and wear summer scents and buy Jamba Juice (it's really not the same in the winter).
So here's the conclusion that I've come to: we never learn anything from ideals. Living paycheck to paycheck teaches me the value of money and to be wise in my spending. Staying single for a while gives me the opportunity to grow and progress myself before joining with someone for eternity. Winter is a necessary season, since that's when we get the majority of our precipitation for the year. Each of these non-ideal situations teach us things that we would never learn if we just waltzed our way through life. Besides, if we got everything we wanted as soon as we got it, we really wouldn't appreciate our ideals.
Here's all we can do: we take life a day at a time and we do the best we can. We learn from whatever situation we find ourselves in and, most importantly, we put our trust in the Lord. Sometimes I feel like I have absolutely no idea what's going on in my life, but I know that He knows exactly what's going on, and how and when it's going to happen. Sometimes I can almost hear Him say, "Just hold on, Michelle. It'll all work out in the end." And I listen to Him, because I know that no matter what I think I want, He knows exactly what I need, and what I need will be so much better than anything that I could ever think that I want.
I've been thinking a lot recently about what I want. It seems that there's always an ideal in your head, or something that you at least think is ideal, but the ideal doesn't always turn out to be so...ideal. Know what I mean? I've had several possibilities rolling around in my head lately of what I think I want. Here are some of them (in no particular order):
1. I want a job where I get full time hours, make decent money, and have a set schedule (or one I set myself) that doesn't include Sundays that involves something I'm actually good at. I would love to have some job land in my lap that would involve proofreading textbooks at home or something. That's the ideal, but as soon as I find myself looking for a new job, I start panicking over everything that would change: I'd lose seniority and find myself the new person that knows nothing, without the benefit of being surrounded by close friends. I actually had an interview this past week for a job that I really do want, but I get scared and start thinking about running away. What if I'm no good at a new job? What if everyone hates me? What if I can't get time off for my trip to Nashville to see my brother graduate from law school? I know that it will be worth it in the end to have a good job that I'll grow to love, but since I notoriously over-think, it stresses me out anyway.
2. I want to get married. (Now, I know what you're thinking: it'll happen when it happens. Just read the entire post and you'll know that I'm aware of these things.) I'd almost like to say that I'd be cool if I ever even went on a date, but quite honestly, I'd like to just fall in love with a friend and have that be that (remember that these are ideals...which is sometimes synonymous with delusion). I don't want to deal with the stress of being shot down and not being liked back. At least when I don't date, I can't find myself in the middle of a relationship that isn't going anywhere no matter how much I want it to (that's just an example; not based in real life).
3. I want summer. This is less serious, but there it is. I'm tired of being cold and I'm tired of the sun going down so early. I want to wear shorts and short sleeves and wear summer scents and buy Jamba Juice (it's really not the same in the winter).
So here's the conclusion that I've come to: we never learn anything from ideals. Living paycheck to paycheck teaches me the value of money and to be wise in my spending. Staying single for a while gives me the opportunity to grow and progress myself before joining with someone for eternity. Winter is a necessary season, since that's when we get the majority of our precipitation for the year. Each of these non-ideal situations teach us things that we would never learn if we just waltzed our way through life. Besides, if we got everything we wanted as soon as we got it, we really wouldn't appreciate our ideals.
Here's all we can do: we take life a day at a time and we do the best we can. We learn from whatever situation we find ourselves in and, most importantly, we put our trust in the Lord. Sometimes I feel like I have absolutely no idea what's going on in my life, but I know that He knows exactly what's going on, and how and when it's going to happen. Sometimes I can almost hear Him say, "Just hold on, Michelle. It'll all work out in the end." And I listen to Him, because I know that no matter what I think I want, He knows exactly what I need, and what I need will be so much better than anything that I could ever think that I want.
Sunday, February 6, 2011
"Involving My Olfactory Sense Makes It Real For Me"
Yesterday, while putting my clean sheets on my bed, I noticed a small snowman attached to the bottom corner of my bed frame, against the wall. Curiously, I removed the snowman and studied it, trying to decide its origins. I had never seen the snowman before. The snowman had a clip of sorts on the back, and a clear, squishy stomach which seemed to encase some sort of liquid. Here's what it looked like:
Upon closer investigation, I saw some explanation. Apparently, the snowman was some sort of portable scent...provider. I leaned in and sniffed, curious as to what it would smell like. It was vanilla, but not regular, happy vanilla. The vanilla smell I experienced was the same scent that comes with laughing gas at the dentist's office. One sniff, and I could practically feel my limbs numbing and my terrifying childhood dentist telling me to "Open" (hear it how I hear it, and start shaking in your boots).
It's funny how something as simple as a scent can transport you into the past. I have a perfume that I bought at the Disneyland Sephora last Spring Break. The scent is Malibu Lemon Blossom, and every time I smell it I think about the Indiana Jones ride, the sundeck of the Queen Mary, and the wind in my hair as we drove up the Pacific Coast Highway. It's great.
Of course, it goes the other way. I can't think of an instance right now, but it's also very possible to smell something that reminds you of a horrible memory, something that you'd totally forgotten and all of a sudden, it's there again.
Just some thoughts :)
Oh, and for those who wondered, the title comes from an episode from Big Bang Theory.
Upon closer investigation, I saw some explanation. Apparently, the snowman was some sort of portable scent...provider. I leaned in and sniffed, curious as to what it would smell like. It was vanilla, but not regular, happy vanilla. The vanilla smell I experienced was the same scent that comes with laughing gas at the dentist's office. One sniff, and I could practically feel my limbs numbing and my terrifying childhood dentist telling me to "Open" (hear it how I hear it, and start shaking in your boots).It's funny how something as simple as a scent can transport you into the past. I have a perfume that I bought at the Disneyland Sephora last Spring Break. The scent is Malibu Lemon Blossom, and every time I smell it I think about the Indiana Jones ride, the sundeck of the Queen Mary, and the wind in my hair as we drove up the Pacific Coast Highway. It's great.
Of course, it goes the other way. I can't think of an instance right now, but it's also very possible to smell something that reminds you of a horrible memory, something that you'd totally forgotten and all of a sudden, it's there again.
Just some thoughts :)
Oh, and for those who wondered, the title comes from an episode from Big Bang Theory.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Next Time, I Check My Watch
Today I gave a talk in church. Here is the tale...
A couple of days ago, when I began my preparation, I realized that I'm way more used to giving lessons than talks. When you give a lesson, you prepare thirty minutes worth of material and work in time for comments. Also, you aren't standing at a podium, speaking into a microphone, with the bishopric sitting behind you and everyone staring at you. Anyway, my talk was only supposed to be ten minutes, so I had to cut down a lot of the things that I wanted to say.
I successfully wrote a ten minute talk. I actually did a timed read-through that went a little longer than ten minutes, but I figured that I would be talking faster when I actually gave it (which happens when I get nervous), so it would work out just about right.
Sunday came. I walked up and sat on the stand, trying all the while to calm myself down and not make it obvious to the entire congregation that I was incredibly nervous. I willed my hands to stop shaking and made a conscious effort not to fidget. My friend and roommate, Michelle Bergsjo, went first. After about five minutes, she told the congregation that I had mentioned a concern for going over time, so she was cutting down her time. What a pal :) I got up and began to deliver my talk, glancing over at the clock so I could properly gauge my time. 11:20. I made a couple of dumb jokes and introduced myself, then got into my actual talk. I started to calm down at this point, and had almost gotten to the end my prepared material when I happened to glance up at the clock. 11:25. I panicked. How could it be that I had only spoken for five minutes? Had I really been speaking that fast? I rifled my brain for ideas to lengthen my talk, but there were none. Flustered, I wrapped up my talk, sitting down and feeling like a fool. I was both shocked and embarrassed. I asked Michelle if I had really only spoken for five minutes. She replied that we both had. We had left almost half an hour for the third speaker.
Or so we thought. After the intermediate hymn and a few minutes into the final talk, Michelle leaned over and whispered that the clock has stopped. I looked at the clock. Still 11:25. I looked at my watch: 11:40. Relief swept over me as I realized that I had indeed, spoken for a full ten minutes. I still felt slightly foolish about getting thrown off and ending my talk somewhat awkwardly (though my sister later insisted that she couldn't tell anything was amiss), but I could deal with that.
The good news is that it's over, and it will be a long time before I'm asked to speak in church again :)
The end.
A couple of days ago, when I began my preparation, I realized that I'm way more used to giving lessons than talks. When you give a lesson, you prepare thirty minutes worth of material and work in time for comments. Also, you aren't standing at a podium, speaking into a microphone, with the bishopric sitting behind you and everyone staring at you. Anyway, my talk was only supposed to be ten minutes, so I had to cut down a lot of the things that I wanted to say.
I successfully wrote a ten minute talk. I actually did a timed read-through that went a little longer than ten minutes, but I figured that I would be talking faster when I actually gave it (which happens when I get nervous), so it would work out just about right.
Sunday came. I walked up and sat on the stand, trying all the while to calm myself down and not make it obvious to the entire congregation that I was incredibly nervous. I willed my hands to stop shaking and made a conscious effort not to fidget. My friend and roommate, Michelle Bergsjo, went first. After about five minutes, she told the congregation that I had mentioned a concern for going over time, so she was cutting down her time. What a pal :) I got up and began to deliver my talk, glancing over at the clock so I could properly gauge my time. 11:20. I made a couple of dumb jokes and introduced myself, then got into my actual talk. I started to calm down at this point, and had almost gotten to the end my prepared material when I happened to glance up at the clock. 11:25. I panicked. How could it be that I had only spoken for five minutes? Had I really been speaking that fast? I rifled my brain for ideas to lengthen my talk, but there were none. Flustered, I wrapped up my talk, sitting down and feeling like a fool. I was both shocked and embarrassed. I asked Michelle if I had really only spoken for five minutes. She replied that we both had. We had left almost half an hour for the third speaker.
Or so we thought. After the intermediate hymn and a few minutes into the final talk, Michelle leaned over and whispered that the clock has stopped. I looked at the clock. Still 11:25. I looked at my watch: 11:40. Relief swept over me as I realized that I had indeed, spoken for a full ten minutes. I still felt slightly foolish about getting thrown off and ending my talk somewhat awkwardly (though my sister later insisted that she couldn't tell anything was amiss), but I could deal with that.
The good news is that it's over, and it will be a long time before I'm asked to speak in church again :)
The end.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
A Dilemma of Sorts...
Many of you may remember last year, when I took online Jeopardy! test. Well, the time for the test has come upon me once more, and as I went to register for it, I saw that the nearest interview location (provided that I pass the test) is Los Angeles. This leaves me with quite the decision to make. On the one hand, I highly doubt that I'd even get a good enough score to move on to the next level (I only got 21 out of 50 last time), and I really only took it for fun last time. Mostly I just want to see what the questions are and found out how well I can do.
On the other hand...suppose a miracle were to happen. Suppose that I do incredibly well on the test and they invite me to an in-person interview. I would have to fly out to L.A.! I don't have money, I'd have to get work off, and I'd have to find someone to come with me, as I'm slightly terrified of running off to strange, large cities by myself.
On the other hand...oh, I'm out of hands? On the one foot, what if a miracle did happen and I did fly to L.A. and I passed the interview and.... I GOT TO MEET ALEX! That would be a beautiful thing.
Gah! I just don't know.
On the other hand...suppose a miracle were to happen. Suppose that I do incredibly well on the test and they invite me to an in-person interview. I would have to fly out to L.A.! I don't have money, I'd have to get work off, and I'd have to find someone to come with me, as I'm slightly terrified of running off to strange, large cities by myself.
On the other hand...oh, I'm out of hands? On the one foot, what if a miracle did happen and I did fly to L.A. and I passed the interview and.... I GOT TO MEET ALEX! That would be a beautiful thing.
Gah! I just don't know.
Thursday, January 6, 2011
It's a new year, blah blah blah...
It's the first blog post of the new year, and I'm not really sure what to write about. I've never been much for making New Year's Resolutions (see my General Conference=My New Year's post), so I won't talk about that. There's no harm, however, in looking over the past year. Last year was actually quite a good one for me. Here are three exciting events from 2010:
A: Receiving my endowments in the temple. This event was huge. I'm incredibly grateful for the blessings I have received by attending the temple. It's so wonderful to live so close to a house of the Lord and be able to learn of Him. (Feel free to check out the post I wrote at that time, Just a Little Update.)
2: I graduated from college! Sometimes it felt like it would never happen, but it did! I now have a degree in English with an emphasis in Literary Studies and a minor in History. What does that mean? No, I am not going to teach. Pretty much, it means I can read and write, and even though I'm still at my college job, I'm okay. (Here's my post on graduation: Sweet Beans.)
D: I moved out! I've lived out of my parents' house before, but not as a college-graduated adult in non-student housing. It's different, I promise :) I painted my room a super awesome color of something akin to avocado green, and together with my good pals Amanda and Michelle (Amanda downstairs with me, Michelle upstairs with her cousin Kora eventually joining her), we have made major strides in becoming responsible adults, which is only partially as fun as it sounds.
So there's my year! Of course other events occurred. I turned twenty-five, changed wards as a result of the Ward Overhaul of 2010/moving, and started up a Utah Temple Tour with Amanda (a movement to attend a session in each of our great state's temples).
So thanks, 2010, for being so good to me. Here's hoping that 2011 will be just as fabulous.
A: Receiving my endowments in the temple. This event was huge. I'm incredibly grateful for the blessings I have received by attending the temple. It's so wonderful to live so close to a house of the Lord and be able to learn of Him. (Feel free to check out the post I wrote at that time, Just a Little Update.)
2: I graduated from college! Sometimes it felt like it would never happen, but it did! I now have a degree in English with an emphasis in Literary Studies and a minor in History. What does that mean? No, I am not going to teach. Pretty much, it means I can read and write, and even though I'm still at my college job, I'm okay. (Here's my post on graduation: Sweet Beans.)
D: I moved out! I've lived out of my parents' house before, but not as a college-graduated adult in non-student housing. It's different, I promise :) I painted my room a super awesome color of something akin to avocado green, and together with my good pals Amanda and Michelle (Amanda downstairs with me, Michelle upstairs with her cousin Kora eventually joining her), we have made major strides in becoming responsible adults, which is only partially as fun as it sounds.
So there's my year! Of course other events occurred. I turned twenty-five, changed wards as a result of the Ward Overhaul of 2010/moving, and started up a Utah Temple Tour with Amanda (a movement to attend a session in each of our great state's temples).
So thanks, 2010, for being so good to me. Here's hoping that 2011 will be just as fabulous.
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