29 April 2011

My Roman Holiday

I'm watching Roman Holiday on TV right now and a million thoughts have filled my head. And yet, I can't seem to remember what I did this morning. Or the day before. It's like time doesn't exist. Weird.

Anyway, read on for a snapshot of my brain:

1. I should probably consider getting a life instead of having to spend my Friday nights reading books about missions, watching old movies on tv and eating granola with yogurt.

2. I miss warm weather. The wind-blown snow today almost succeeded in simultaneously blinding me and knocking me off my bike. Yep. Snow. On the second to last day of April. Yeah.

3. I want a skirt like Audrey Hepburn's in this movie:
I could probably wear a skirt like that on my mission. Except it'd have to be like 10 sizes bigger.

4. I think I'm in love with Gregory Peck. Actually, I know I am. Sighhhhhhh.

5. Gregory Peck also kinda looks like Gary Cooper, who I am also probably in love with.

6. I miss Rome. I want to splash in the Trevi. I want to walk around the Colosseum. I want to dance on the barges on the Tiber in front of the Castel Sant'Angelo. I want to stick my hand into the Bocca della Verita'. I want to eat gelato on the Spanish Steps. I want to eat lunch al fresco in front of the Pantheon. I want to speak Italian all day. 

And I don't ever want to forget the life I had in Italy.



26 April 2011

Talk about...pop music

What is it with Swedes and pop music?




It's like they take classes in school dedicated to understanding the American psyche so they can infiltrate our airwaves with infectious pop music.

The fashion is an unintended consequence, I think.

In any case, one of my Italy friends, Taylor, is basically a pop music aficionado and he had the following track spinnin' on repeat basically the whole last week we were in Rome ("Call Your Girlfriend" by Robyn):



I didn't even know the lyrics, but the song kept getting stuck in my head! So I bought it. And I've listened to it about a bazillion and a half times.

Yesterday, I finally caved and bought Robyn's album, mainly because this song kept getting stuck in my head ("Get Myself Together"):



When it comes to really good pop albums, it's a "if you give a mouse a cookie..." kind of thing. Thus, my taste for "Hang With Me", particularly the chorus:



I know. I'm a sucker.

Sighhhhh.

(If you didn't figure out the connection to Abba, Robyn is also Swedish)

25 April 2011

Please slow down, Brain

I can't sleep.

Maybe I should reconsider reading Preach My Gospel before going to bed. All I can think about is finishing my mission papers and getting my call. In fact, I was lying in bed about a half hour ago with all the lights off when I had to get out of bed and grab my computer so I could email my bishop about them. And now here I am. I may or may not have just spent the past few minutes looking over the list of missions I could possibly be sent to on wikipedia.

This is, like, worse than waiting for Christmas morning. I just wanna knowwwwww.

21 April 2011

Seasons of love



Dear Catherine Zeta-Jones,

I just want to let you know that despite your bipolar II disorder, I'm still passionately obsessed with you. Perhaps you are familiar with another famous actress who shared in your trials:

You got this, girl.

Love,
Me

20 April 2011

Boo-yah!

Soooo.....

...I'M DONE WITH FINALS!!!

It makes me wanna:

Well, minus being interrupted.

KEEP CALM AND PARTY ON.

16 April 2011

It's beginning to look a lot like...

...ochem.

Finals started today. Lucky me, I had my ochem final today. Saturday. The first day. At 7 am. In the morning. It took me four hours. Again. Yay.

At this point you may think that I'm rejoicing, saying "woohoo I'm done!" whilst frolicking around on the grass in the sunshine. If only that were true. Spring term starts on the 26th, and looky looky what is in store for me:


Straight ochem from 8am-2pm every MWF?

Yessir.

Go ahead. Be jealous. I don't mind.

07 April 2011

Racially Ambiguous

I had someone ask me what my ethnicity was today.

Again.

This is a recurring question in my life. It usually comes in the form of "so...what are you?" from people who stare at me but haven't ever talked to me before and probably don't even know my name. That's a fun question to get asked. I mean, how do you even respond to that? What would you say? I typically reply with "um, I'm a person?" and hope they realize how ridiculous their question just sounded. Then they give away the idea that's been forming in their mind about what race I probably am and say something along the lines of "no, I mean like are you [insert ethnicity here] or something?" and then I end their mental torment and answer the question they meant to ask in the first place.

Granted, this is a tricky question to ask someone. I don't know why people can't just ask straight up "what ethnicity are you?" as if I'll be offended that they were curious about it or think they're a racist or something. When you think about it, we're all racists anyway so it doesn't really matter; anyone who says they're not a racist is lying. But I honestly don't think it's a big deal if people ask me what ethnicity I am.

In most cases, the people who are the most inclined to ask me what race I am are the people who think I'm the same race as them. Often the follow-up question I get sounds more like "no, I mean are you [insert ethnicity here] or something? Because I'm [insert same ethnicity here]". I guess it's a bonding thing, a cultural thing, you know? Because if you find someone else who is your same ethnicity then you're no longer strangers, but kin. And aren't we all just looking for people in this world who aren't gonna think we're weird and will just love us and accept us for whatever we are?

To be fair, I don't always get the "so...what are you?" question - some people jump straight to the second question, or some variant of it. I'd like to leave you with some of the questions people have asked me:

--"So are you like Indian?" - that was from the girl today
--"[some unintelligible Spanish]" - apparently I'm so convincingly Hispanic that you can just speak to me in Spanish
--"Da dove vieni? Messico? Spagna?" - some guy in Florence ran up behind me and was determined to woo me. Oh, Italian men.
--"So where is your family from?" - people who try to be delicate will ask me this question, but considering my history, it's still a complicated/confusing question to answer because saying "North Carolina" doesn't really answer the question
--"Are you half and half?" - our waitress at Disney asked me that out of nowhere and I thought she was talking about the bowl of soup I was eating. After I looked at my bowl, back at her, and said "huh?" she said "oh, I meant like are you half Asian and half white--because, I mean, that's what I am." I don't know who she thought the two grown-ups I was sitting at the table with were, but I said "um, kind of?", gestured to said grown-ups and then said "these are my parents." Must've been a busy day for her.


If I marry someone who has been asked questions like these but is a different ethnicity than me, our children could give Tiger Woods a run for his money.

02 April 2011

Talent's not dead

I know this song is popular and on the radio and whatnot, but guess what? She's actually GOOD. Real talent. It's like when she sings you soul hears it. Her voice can't be described - it has to be experienced. It just slays me. She KILLS it on this track:




And while I'm at it, I love this song, too:



Oh, and The Strokes' new album dropped March 22 and while it's no Room on Fire, it's still pretty legit. My favorite track right now is "Machu Picchu" but their first single is "Under Cover of Darkness":



And since Jules is such a killer lyricist, I'll finish out with a pretty bomb track off of his solo record:




Watch. Listen. Appreciate. Be.