Wednesday, September 22, 2010

I may have found my archnemesis.

You may remember from a little while ago, when I wrote about how I needed an archnemesis.

Well, good news.

I think I may have found one.

Let me expound.

I'm currently enrolled in a Spanish Linguistics class for this fall semester. The class is actually a really interesting one, and I really enjoy it. I have a great professor and everything, so its a recipe for success, right??

FALSE.

The first day of class, I noticed that there were some people in there.

You know the type. The type that laughs at every tiny little stupid joke the teacher makes. The ultimate suck ups. The ones that feel the need to comment on every point made, the types who try to correct everyone else, The ones who like to pretend they already know everything.

Yeah, you know the kind.

Heck, maybe you ARE the kind.

In particular, in these last two weeks of class I've noticed that there is one girl in particular that I have grown into an intense dislike for. I don't know her name, and I don't want to.

Today, for example, in class we were talking about the difference between prescriptivism nd descriptivism in language (I cam actually a closet nerd, you see) She started out before class even began, talking about how she grew up in a family that was apparently very grammar conscious, whining about how her dad would always correct them when they made a slight grammatical error while talking, such as "Can i go to the bathroom?" "I don't know, can you?" And continually talking about how annoying it was to be corrected like that, then proceeding to comment on everyone's homework that she could see form her desk. "Oh no, that's not right, its this way." "No, that descriptive, which is not the correct answer." "Well, you wouldn't say Can you make a copy for I, would you? No, It would be 'me.'" Interestingly enough, she decided to add that, although apparently her whole family is incredibly "grammatically conscious," none of them seem to be able to spell.

I wanted to punch her in the face within 4 minutes of entering the classroom.

We also all had the good fortune of hearing her give the EXACT SAME examples of her trialed upbringing throughout class, all accompanied with a snooty air and a know-it-all tone to her voice. But the final straw was when we were debating double negatives.

Bear with me. I understand that I am turning into more and more of a nerd each day of my life, but please try to understand my anger here.

She, being the ultimate all knowing grammar wise woman that she think she is, said that in any and all cases, logically a double negative would actually become a positive, because you're negating the first negative with the second one. If that makes any sense. I don't know. Anyways, she was very vehement about being right on this one, once AGAIN citing her "strict father" as the reason why she knows this.

I decided to jump in with my own opinion, saying something about how a double negative can just emphasize the fact that the statement is negative. Basically, I just tried to spit out something that was the exact opposite of what she said.

Guess who the teacher sided with and agreed with completely?

HOLLA!

This is when I decided that she was my long awaited archnemesis.

I look forward to Monday when I can once again debate every single point she makes.

And who knows? Maybe someday we can both don tights and capes and duke it out physically.

I would win.

Why?

Because I'm feisty.

Yep. I just went there.

Did I mention she has a stupid haircut?
Because she does.
.....Yeah.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

It just gets better and better.


So it turns out, I'm allergic to peas.

PEAS.

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot?

Last night I felt the familiar signs of my body going down that ever so delightful ascent into Anaphylactic Shock, after having eaten some peas in an attempt to be healthy.

I should know better by now. That's why I ate cookies for breakfast. Don't gotta tell me twice!

Anywho.

If you were curious, that racks up the food allergies/issues to the following:

1. Tree Nuts
--including, but not limited to, pecans, almonds, walnuts, hazelnuts, macadamia nuts, pine nuts, brazil nuts, pretty much any and every type of nut... excpet Peanuts. Because peanuts are not technically nuts. They are legumes. But that is another rant for another time.

2. Kiwi
--I cannot touch the stuff, for if I do, it makes me break out through and through. My hands, my fingers, lips and mouth, will turn bright red and swell about.
I just wrote a poem. Wow.

3. Milk
--This is the most manageable of my food issues. All I have to do is take a pill before, during, or just after consumption of dairy products, and its all gravy. That is, if gravy were ice cream or yogurt or Nesquick.

4. Peas.
We all know about this one.

And all of the above is in addition to my various physical maladies, which include
-Scoliosis
-Flat Feet
-TMJ
-Off-Track Kneecaps on both legs
-Tennis Elbow
-and for some unexplained reason, I bleed a lot. Not like a hemophiliac, but I just bleed for a while after I hurt myself. There's no reason for it. My blood counts are all normal, and I'm not anemic.

I promise I'm not some weird, pale sickly child-like creature. I eat pretty healthily to be honest, and I go to the gym almost everyday for at least an hour.

Okay, so maybe I am pretty pale. But I blame that on my practically entirely Caucasian ancestry, who probably never really had an affinity for being in the sunlight.

Body FAIL.

Thursday, September 16, 2010

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Beware, facebook stalking potential mates.

Today, I was talking to my roommates about the not-so-flattering photos of us up on facebook.
I mentioned that my brother, Adam, recently tagged me in all of his old photo albums from up to 5 years ago, AND my mother has also put up her fair share of dated pictures of my siblings and I, thus giving the world access to my awkward early teenage years of braces, red crimped hair, and baggy sweaters.

One of the girls thoughtfully said, "Well, you can untag yourself, you know."

I pondered for a moment, then responded aptly.

"Yeah, I could. But really, I have no shame anymore.

Plus, if a guy is stalking me on facebook, I want him to be able to see that side of me, back in the day as a tot. Its like, my way of warning him, 'Hey. If we got married, our kids might come out lookin funny like I used to. Just a heads up, there could be some buck teeth in your future posterity.'

I mean, I know I look pretty good NOW, so, I'm not really too worried."

Sunday, September 12, 2010

A big ol' chunk of my life, in photos.


I bet you're wondering, as you read these various posts I write, Who exactly is this Erin type person? Where does she come from? What did she look like a a young tot, perhaps?

Well, get ready to find out, kids. Because I'm treating you to some ravishing photos of my life in pictures.
On August30, 1990, I was born. It was, like, wonderful.
I looked like a fat Chinese infant for much of my infancy. But I like to think I was a cute lil nugget too.
This is me as a lil toddler, with my elder brother, sister, and mother. Please observe the charming outfits worn by all. Also, the pigtails. Those will make several repeat appearances throughout the lifetime shown here.A little later as a toddler, I found myself immersed in the Hawaiian culture. I have been incredibly culture (and beach conscious) ever since.
Once again, Here I am, being, in my dear friend Trey's words, "A lil nugget."
As a child. I found myself prone to thinking up many philosophies and ideas in my spare time, encouraging my wit and quickness of mind.
I also began to gather an even more impressive sense of style, of which people would be jealous for the duration of my childhood.
At the ripe age of 5, I began my dance career in a tap/ballet class, that only endured for a matter of weeks, and after my final recital, that was the end of that.

Please take note, that this is the only photo from my middle school years that I have allowed to be put online. Why, you ask? Because so began the awkward years of my life, enduring for QUITE a while. Please note the attractive buck teeth.

The following photo is one taken on a rather odd Sunday Afternoon, when my younger siblings and I created a band entitled "The Stinky Bunny, in which I dubbed myself Lead Singer, "La'Tisha." Caution: What is shown below here is not pretty. Just warning you ahead of time.
Fortunately, by the time I reached High School, I had started to, how do you say, "Grow a Personality."
This personality was encouraged by joining Theatre at my High School, and performing in many musicals from there on out.
It ought to be mentioned as well, that I went through a "Really really really, obscene big baggy sweaters" phase, in which I wore my older sister's hoodies constantly, and even purchased a drama sweater two sizes too large in order to continue my hefty sweater obsession.
In addition, I was dying my hair auburn as well. And I didn't seem to know how to style it. And I had braces. STOP JUDGING ME.
Eventually, I began experimenting with my hair, and started attempting to dress like a regular person. I went through some setbacks, such as crimping that bright red hair of mine, before ginally settling on straightening it, and cutting it, alternating for years between long and short hair.
Short Hairs
Long Hairs
At some point between the two stages of hair, I went to Brighman Young University in Provo, Utah.
And the rest is history.

Stay tuned for more exciting developments in the Life of Erin. Coming soon to a computer screen near you.

Thursday, September 2, 2010

Hula Hoobie Whatie?


You guys.

What if I did something crazy?

Something crazy that isn't actually all that crazy?

But the crazy thing that I would be doing would possibly potentially get me a lot of attention/publicity/etc etc?

That is, if I went about doing it the right way.

Okay. What I'm saying is,

What if I tried to break a world record?

For.... now wait for it......

Hula Hooping.

The world's longest amount of time spent hula hooping with a single hula hoop.

Who's to say I couldn't do it?

Or who's to say I couldn't do it for at least 24 hours? That would still be pretty legit.

Especially if I got sponsors or whatnot.

Dude, I could potentially get a lot of attention and traffic to the blog if I did this.

Not to mention, I like attention. Let's be honest, who doesn't like attention? And doing something crazy like hula hooping for 24 hours could get some attention.

WORD.

In other news, I recommend you look up Schmoyoho's youtube channel. They made the "Bed Intruder Song" and have auto tuned a buttload of other hilarious news videos with some crazypants peoples.