A Sad Day in Potluck History

Tomorrow my department has a Christmas potluck.  'Tis the season, eh?

EXCEPT...

As I went to sign up to bring something, the secretary informed me that it had to be store-bought.  Homemade goods are a no-go this year because of food handling permits, yada, yada, yada.   She seemed equally distraught to tell me this news as I was to hear it.

Who wants store-bought treats at Christmas??  It's the one time a year where people actually have motivation to make stuff!  I like how they treat it as if people have no freedom in their eating choices.  If you are wary of homemade stuff, don't eat it!  Furthermore I find it frustrating that we are more scared of whatever "germs" people are going to pass by bringing something from home than we are concerned with the hydrogenated oils, red 40, random preservatives, artificial colors, sugar sugar and more sugar, other ingredients masquerading as sugar, etc.  This seems a little backwards to me considering the ratio of how many times people get sick from other people's food versus how many people eat their health away with food that comes in boxes and cans--instead of from dirt.

Here's my conspiracy theory:  I think they want us to eat the junk with all the preservatives so that we'll all get cancer, and then people will still have jobs researching cures for cancer.  Yeah, I think that's right.

I might just bring a home-made dessert anyway with a big sign that says:  Warning:  These wheat-free, sugar-free, vegan brownies were made at home.  This means I probably licked my finger while making the batter, but they are cooked at 350 degrees, so you're probably okay.  Eat at your own risk.  (But seriously, you'll be missing out if you don't.)

Perspective

You know how everyone did that gratitude countdown to Thanksgiving on facebook (which was kind of annoying because for a whole month everyone was blowing up my newsfeed with how great their family, husband, kids, friends, life is...(I get it okay??))?  I would have liked to see more offbeat gratitude declarations, but that's just me.

Aaaaannnnyyyway, I actually have one.  A good one.

I'm grateful that my blog is fixed!!!  I don't have to write in HTML anymore.  And you should be grateful too because it means more random stories, needless details, and unsolicited opinions coming your way!

First on the docket:  I was starting to feel a tiny bit sad about my life today, but then I went on MSN.com and read that one of the stars of Little People Big World has been diagnosed with a rare form of cancer.

Seriously, Universe?  Seriously?  Couldn't cut them a break?

Now I'm not using their situation to make myself feel better, but reading that gives you perspective, you know?  Like, maybe life isn't that bad.  There are worse things in life than freaking out about your future Master's thesis or fretting about the boy who just doesn't like you back...no matter how much mascara you put on in the morning.

So huzzah!  Happy December everybody!

So my blog is still broken. Wah!!!

Sometimes I feel like going on an adventure. Sometimes I feel like I've outgrown Provo. Sometimes I miss dance...a lot. Sometimes I wish I could speak Spanish again. Sometimes I'm still unsure exactly what I want to do with my life and where I want to end up. I found out the other day that one of the best schools in the field I want to go into is in Missouri. Bleh.

All I know right now is that I really love slam poetry, and I'm trying to find God everywhere, and I can eat A LOT of bananas. That's about it.

Twins

Once upon a time, Claire wanted me to write about a ward date(ish) activity. I will let you know that I have to write all my posts in HTML now because my blog is kind of broken. So, you're welcome.

There's a show called Amazing Race, and apparently it's about how people race amazingly. As is wont in Singles Wards in BYU, every activity needs to involve pairing of some sort. (Let's get these people married!!)

Cool thing #1--My "date" (ugh, I hate using that word because it was a forced situation. I don't want to put words or terms in anyone's mouth. Let's say partner in crime (PIC)) and I were wearing the SAME thing! Like almost literally. Same light blue linen(?) button down shirt, dark skinny pants, and tan shoes. We so stylish. This was a good omen, which was beneficial because I wanted to pretend like I didn't care about winning...but let's face it, I really wanted to smoke this thing.

Cool thing #2--My PIC had been living in Provo for the last ten years, so he knew Provo really well. This was a plus because we drove all around the freaking town.

Cool thing #3--There was great music in the car, so we pretty much jammed the whole time. This kept me from not getting too crazy-competitive, although I think my PIC caught some glimpses of my inner psycho. Nice to meet you too.

Cool thing #4--My PIC was really stellar at mini-golf precision and accuracy, and he ate all the pretzel bites (one of the challenges), so that I wouldn't get sick. Awwww...

Cool thing #5--Earlier that week I was at the vending machine about to blow all of my quarters on a $2 Clif Bar (woof), but I had this premonition that I would need to save those quarters, so I put in a little more effort to dig out my dimes and nickels, which might have been annoying to the person behind me. Well, come the competition, we needed quarters for this fortune teller booth. I busted them out without hesitation. Huzzah! This separated us from the couples who forgot to fill their lamps with oil...or you know, their wallets with quarters.

Cool thing #6--We got 2nd place (it would have been first if the other couple had parked correctly, but I'm not bitter) and a Coldstone gift card! And we both can't eat dairy! But you know, it wasn't about the ice cream.

Lame thing #1--One of the challenges involved a proposal...at the temple. Someone get me a serotonin (5-HT3) antagonist stat! (It's an anti-nausea drug group. Yay, pharmacology!)

Oh Provo.

A typical conversation:

Me: You know Dr. Bridgewater?
Fellow Grad Student: Yea.
Me: I think she's fabulous. I'm her biggest fan, and she doesn't even know who I am.
FGS: I know! Me too!
Me: Didn't she discover something really important?
FGS: Yeah, like nuclear Bmp2. It was published in Cell or Nature or something like that.
Me: OMG!!!!!

But seriously. Dr. Bridgewater has it all--brains, beauty, career, family, etc. She's my Woman Crush Wednesday candidate.

Hiatus Ceased

So my mom has been asking me all summer to post on this, and I was just too lazy until my friend Kellianne also suggested that I write again. Well, I guess that was the kicker. It turns out I only need two people to convince me to do something. It's like my mom is an enzyme, and Kellianne is the cofactor.

Hi, I'm Tanya, and I'm going to make as many scientific comparisons as I can in this blog because that's my life lately.

A glorious thing happened today. Let me preface this by saying that I love BYU.

Sometimes I don't agree with its policies--namely the leggings under a shorter skirt rule. (Wah, wah, wah, I know.) Not a huge deal, but I always saw it as an effort someone was making to be more covered and/or modest. I feel like BYU saw it as people trying to push the line. With that logic then, these subversive tactics needed to be be stopped by wasting paper--I mean, putting up posters--all over campus informing people that leggings don't make up the difference between your skirt length and your evil knees.

So we complied. Because, you know, you have to take tests.

But then. Skinny jeans rose in popularity and morphed into different colored, spandex-cotton-y like pants that still retained some form of jean-liness, but denied the thickness thereof. And heavens to Betsy, how do we classify (or vilify) jeggings???

And then I think the fashion industry thought, "whatthehell, let's not beat around the bush." And then simple leggings as pants hit the shelves. And I think BYU threw in the towel.

Which brings me to today. I waltzed in the testing center with just leggings (and a shirt of course). For the win.

Comparisons

Audrey Hepburn > Marilyn Monroe

Smashing Pumpkins > Nirvana

Simon and Garfunkel > The Beatles

I guess it's not always about comparisons...

Mom logic

So my mom got a job offer to be a Spanish teacher at Bonney Lake High School.

There's only one thing.  She's not an actual certified teacher.  The powers that be didn't know that when they called.  She just subs a lot, and she's pretty dang good at it.

"Well..." They said, "Do you plan on getting a teaching certificate anytime?"
Mom: "Nope!"

Afterward we were discussing this, and she said, "Why would I want to go through all that work?  Just to make more money?  And be in the next tax bracket?  No, thank you."

Moral of the story:  Don't make more money.  You'll just end up in the next tax bracket.  Ugh.

Buena suerte

Yesterday I went to a middle school yearbook signing party.  I was the entertainment.  Everybody loves balloon twisters!

This sweet kid came up to me.  We'll call him Manny.  This isn't just because he is Latino; he also reminded me of Manny from "Modern Family."  Super adorable.

He walks up to me and says, "Can you make me a heart wand?"
Me: "I sure can!"
As I get started, he says nervously, "This isn't for me, by the way."
Me: "Oh really?  Who's it for?"
Manny: "Well...it's this girl that I like."
Me:  "Why do you like her?"
Manny: "Well, we've been friends this whole year, and I just haven't told her, but I'm going to tell her today."
I finish the heart wand.
Manny: "Ummm can you write 'I like you' on it?"
Me: "I sure can!"  So I do.  "Go get 'em."

Then Manny courageously walked away.  I hope it works out for him.  Really.  I remember those days on the last day of school where you feel like you need to divulge your soul to the person you've been crushing on all year.  I never had the guts to do that until college, and by then that social-awkwardness-mixed-with-brazen-determination loses its charm.  Or maybe I'm just a pessimist.  Maybe we can all learn a thing or two from Manny.

All I know is that if a boy gave me a heart balloon that said "I like you" on it, I sure as heaven would swoon. But maybe I just have this thing with balloons...  That's what happens when you work for a clown.

Just another family dinner

Scott has fruit snacks on his plate as his serving of fruit.

Dad's on a diet.  He eats lettuce.

After being asked a million times over the past couple of years if I'm going to eat the fish tonight, I finally say yes today.  (So sue me.)  I've never seen my dad so proud.

We try to figure out what the new equivalent of green jello is in our day.

And it always ends with someone talking about the word "bazaar," and my mom tells the story of how she lost the Montana state spelling bee because of that word.

Cheers.

Endearing?

My mom and dad bought a new mattress.  It has a supposed 30-year warranty.  In my insensitivity and morbid humor, I said to my mom, "You'll die before this mattress does!"

Cue: Siblings' horror at such an observation.

Mom: But I'm only 52!
Tanya: Yeah, Grandma died at 80.

My mom starts to seriously consider this because sometimes she doesn't get my anti-jokes, but the siblings quickly assuage the situation and change the subject.

Then my mom chimes in.  "Yeah, but I think Christ will come again before I die...and I just feel so bad that you kids won't get any of our inheritance."

Aww, thanks Mom!  Wait...

Why, hello!

Dear Blogging World,

I'm back!  I know it is mostly just my sister and mom waiting around for this, so here you go.

I finished my time as a missionary.  Sorry for the drop off in posts.  I'm sure there will be plenty of flashbacks to share in the future.

So I've been in the real world for a week.  Sometimes I cry about it, but there are generally some good things it has to offer.

Blah blah blah.

I gained a new respect for the sadists we refer to as dentists.  I loathe the dentist.  I went to a place called Bright Now! Dental.  They always sounds so peppy and cheerful, but really they are about to make your day go from a 10 to a 5.  I needed to get a root canal (or as one of the 'merican employees said, "a 'rut' canal.  People in Alberta always used ask me if I said "ruf" instead of roof or rut instead of root.  Who even says that?  "Americans, that's who." The Canucks would say.  Well, I guess they were right.)  Apparently you need a root canal when there is an infection in the root of your tooth...or something like that.  Now, I always thought dentists were the smart kids who wanted a good job, but they chose the cushier route of the dentist office instead of the unpredictable and strenuous hospital hours of a medical doctor.   I don't blame them. Plus they don't have to deal with a lot of bodily fluids besides saliva and a bit of blood.   But as the dentist drilled into my infected root, all of the sudden the most horrific smell was released into the wild.

Bacteria really did a number on that little part of my mouth.  It literally smelled like something died in there (which something did--my tooth).  All the while, the dentist is all up in my grill (literally), nose-nose with the stench from the Black Lagoon.  I would sense it starting to waft, and then the dentist would apply something that smelled like bleach.  Then some more drilling.  Then the smell.  Then the bleach.  (Is that even safe?? I think I swallowed a couple times!)

Quite ashamed, I apologized afterward.  He said, "Oh, we get that all the time!"  Well, thumb up for the dentist who has to feel like he's in a morgue sometimes.  (The morgue actually smells better.)

At the end the dental assistant came in to match my tooth color with the porcelain crown they will make.  My teeth matched the whitest crowns they have.  All natural, thank you.  And then my ego re-inflated as I bounced out the door.