I. Am. Gross.

Right now I am sitting in my gym shirt. It smells. I ran 115 flights of stairs in it to today if that gives you a clue.

I’ve been in this shirt for three hours after my workout now.

I’m not sure why this gross phenomenon is taking place. I’m a clean person. I swear. I use Clorox and Spray N Wash like nobodies’ business. That is why this weird occurrence is so puzzling to me.

Am I staying in this shirt because I like the smell of my sweat mixed with my deodorant, knowing I pushed my body to a limit where it could actually produce this smell? No. At least I hope not. That’s gross.

Is it because I feel like wearing this shirt will make me more productive? Apparently not…writing this seems to prove that.

Is it because I wanted to show this awesome picture my roommate took of me a few minutes ago? Big no.

So why can’t I change out of this shirt? Why? I changed out of my workout pants. I’m in jeans for crying out loud. But nope…this shirt stayed put.

Too much information? Yeah, I thought so too…I’m not really sure why I felt the need to discuss this disgusting fact with the blogging world.

Don’t worry. I’m disgusted too.

The Trouble with Commas

Yesterday I gave a piece of my writing to an old professor. I really respect and admire this person and wanted some feedback.

It was the first time I had done something like this; asked an old professor to spend time on me and my sometimes feeble and awkward attempts at writing. I felt like I was handing him an imperfect piece of my soul. I wanted to take it out of his hands and go over it just one more time with a heavy red pen to make sure it was good enough to be inspected. To say the least…I felt vulnerable.

As I handed it to him and watched his eyes begin to move across the page (my page) I began to apologize and say it had a few mechanical errors. I trailed off, unable to finish my pathetic sentence. What could I have finished it with? “…so there is no point in you reading this piece of junk, especially if I feel the need to make excuses for it”?

As I walked away all I could think of was this quote from Salinger’s Catcher in the Rye where Holden’s roommate explains why he doesn’t want to write a composition. He says it’s because he doesn’t know where all the commas should go. Holden comments, “He wanted you to think that the only reason he was lousy at writing compositions was because he stuck all the commas in the wrong place.”

It was in that moment I realized I need to stop making excuses for the misplaced commas in my life. If there is a problem it’s not in the misplaced commas. It seems like once the vulnerability sets in all I can do is look for the little errors and condemn myself.

There are countless blogs, only half typed or jotted down on some spare piece of notebook paper or old assignment, that will go unread. I have unfinished painting after unfinished painting, half brush stroke, half sketch line. And those are the lucky ones…they rarely even make it to the canvas.

How ridiculous. While I’m not an advocate of showing the world everything in its raw and natural state, sometimes isn’t the integrity and intensity of the color of black in a piece of coal just as beautiful as the full spectrum of colors in a diamond?

I realized that if it’s bad, correct punctuation can’t save it. And if it’s good, flaws could be tolerated, even appreciated.

After all, Shakespeare was known to end on a preposition or two.

And that is why, even though it will make me feel uncomfortable and vulnerable, I will push the “publish post” button, misplaced commas and all.

"maybe next time...if you study a lot"

The testing center on campus has a large screen just outside of the room that shows your score as identified by the last four digits of your ID number. If you get a 94% or higher your score is followed by an enthusiastic “Excellent!” or “Good Job!” they even use exclamation marks. I think it would be funny (and useful) if every score got a comment.

If that was the case…yesterday I would have gotten something to the effect of, “why didn’t you study?” or “wow…bummer” or “consider dropping out of Biology” (they wouldn’t even use capitals let alone exclamation marks).

Thinking up my own score comment cheered me up immensely. That and the score listed below mine was a 38%.

Apparently I can go back to falling asleep during class

Victory

Today I stayed awake for the full hour and a half of Biology 100 for the very first time. After seven weeks of classes I finally figured it out. I owe my hearing (note: this does not mean understanding) of cell respiration to three factors:

• A PB&J eaten very slowly.
• An orange…also eaten very slowly.
• The technology of texting.

Just a Car and the Will to Survive

Rocky died (again) last Monday. Rocky is my 1987 blue Oldsmobile. Rocky earned his name because, like the boxer, he tries so hard but can’t seem to win.

The alternator went out mid-fight.

While Rocky was at the mechanics for a week I discovered that I actually really love him, despite the cursings I often throw his way. Here are The top ten reasons I love Rocky:

1. Rocky has no rearview mirror. It broke off one day. I have no idea how or why.

2. Rocky’s leather seats are more comfortable than my bed.

3. Rocky has only one working dim light. It has become imperative I drive with my brights on at all times. I have the best visibility on the road.

4. Rocky has only one working windshield wiper. The only positive thing I found about this feature is that it’s the driver’s side wiper that works.

5. Among his other boat-like qualities, Rocky is a surprisingly smooth ride.

6. Rocky’s heater doesn’t have the standard blue slowly turning to red dial; instead he adjusts by individual degrees. If 90 degrees is too warm, he’ll quickly adjust to 88.

7. Rocky’s hood is opened by a rigged wire that sticks out of the grill by two feet. It makes a very satisfying pop when I pull it. Sadly I have to pull it quite often.

8. More boat-like qualities demand a ten point turn around. I’m always the jerk that takes forever to back out. I promise it’s not me. It’s Rocky. I also promise this is a good quality…although I’m not sure why.

9. When I went over 55 miles an hour around a curve with black ice and flew over a ditch and bounced multiple times, besides losing a grill (and obtaining feature number 7) I remained untouched.

I almost hesitate to share this next lovely fact about Rocky, but it is perhaps his most attractive feature:

10. He opens with any key, but I’ve also found these items work just as well:

• A pocket knife


• A debit card


• A pen


• (and my personal favorite that I discovered in a tense moment) the zipper on my coat…and pants.

He can also turn on and off without a key.

I’ve been looking for a car named Adrianne for years.

Words of Wisdom

Couples in public places, especially at church, are funny things to watch. Between the back rubs, longing glances, and suit jackets worn over dresses, I was not only spiritually uplifted, but thoroughly entertained in Sunday School today. It reminded me of a funny book Cali made and sent me my first semester of college. It’s called Twelve Fail-Safe Way to Charm BOYS – Advice from Cali’s head, MSN Dating Advice Column, and Common Sense.

Here are a few highlights:

• Blood red fingernails say more than “blood red fingernails”


• Absolutely NO NIBBLING! There will be no nibbling on ears, bread, nails, or cookies.


• Wear perfume. There is nothing more sweet and selfless as wearing perfume so that the other person will enjoy being near you.


• Be on time! If, for reasons beyond your control, you are going to be late, call them before you are late and let them know.


• Be gentle on the let down...if you must let down.


• Do not pick things! Such as: butts, noses, teeth.

And my personal favorite (especially because I'm almost positive Cali made this one up.)

• Before A Date…
  1. Brush your teeth (and tongue)
  2. Write a list of conversation ideas on your palm
  3. Blow your nose and then look up it to assure no bogies are hanging.


• When He Shows Up for the Date
  1. Don’t forget to tell him you like his skinny jeans…even if you think they are ugly.
  2. Give him the benefit of the doubt when his wallet is on a chain.
  3. Act excited if he has planned a date that includes you having dinner on a highway median.

This book has a special place on my shelf. Right next to my textbooks.

This was bound to happen...

I can still remember my mom reading this scripture to us at family scripture study when I was little:

Isaiah 3
16 Moreover the Lord saith, Because the daughters of Zion are haughty, and walk with stretched forth necks and wanton eyes, walking and mincing as they go, and making a tinkling with their feet:
…
24 And it shall come to pass, that instead of sweet smell there shall be stink; and instead of a girdle a rent; and instead of well set hair baldness; and instead of a stomacher a girding of sackcloth; and burning instead of beauty.

This section in Isaiah has always scared me. Why? Because I’ve always been somewhat vain.

And today…verse 24 came true.

I burned my hair with my blow-dryer.