I'm Lonely

Of course, this is nothing new. I get lonely pretty easily, even when I'm surrounded by people. What's different about this is that I'm NOT around people so much these days, and that definitely makes things worse.

Today, I went to church. After church, there was choir, and after choir . . . well, I just hung around for another hour. I finally decided that I just wanted to be around people who were my age, since I went from constantly being surrounded by my demographic peers to hardly seeing any of them at all. Everyone kept asking why I was there: if my name was on the interview list, or if I had a meeting. No, I was just enjoying being around people.

Introverted as I am, it's interesting what a social creature I am. That's not to say that I don't have my moments when I like to be alone, but back in Provo when I had three roommates and all my neighbors were people who were my age, and in my church community AND my school community (some to a greater extent than others), my solitary time was much more limited than it now is. In fact, it was downright rare. Now the tables have turned, and I don't feel like I'm the part of ANY community at all.

I don't even feel like I've been integrated into the ward yet, though I've been back here in Denton for more than a month now. It may not help that for whatever reason, my attendance in the 5th ward has been spotty, and I keep forgetting about things like Institute and FHE and so forth. Part of it, too, is that the ward is so fluid, and I'm having a hard time figuring out who's actually in the ward, who's just visiting, who's going to be here next week, who's leaving in the Fall, etc.

Still, the fact remains that I spend my weekends hanging out with my parents (Friday night, we watched Madame Butterfly on DVD, Saturday night we went to the Dallas Sympony), and while I enjoy that, I still somewhat wish that I were hanging otu with people from my own demographic at least on occasion. Oh, that people liked me.

My "type"

I've often prided myself on not having a "type." I've had many roommates who could tell you exactly what they prefer: guys with this color hair and this color eyes, about yea tall, with a build like so . . .

This concept of a "type" has always left me somewhat befuddled. I am attracted to so many guys, and I find having a "type" limiting. However, yesterday I had a conversation wherein I jokingly said to my dear friend Drew something about "liking 'em beefy." I realized to myself that in actuality, that's pretty contrary to my actual taste. That got me to thinking about guys that I've liked, and what they've had in common. I got really interested in that idea, so I decided to do some rough statistical sketches of my crush population since 2003.

I found that the most common first initial is a tie between "J" and "R" (16% each), and the most common first name is "Chris" (with 8% of my crushes carrying that name).

As to build, roughly
65% are what I would consider to be "lanky"
20% are "average"
10% are "cut," and
5% are "beefy"

Roughly 65% do NOT wear glasses
25% DO wear glasses
10% SOMETIMES wear glasses

Hair color shows no interesting trends:
40% have brown hair
39% have blond hair
13% have black or dark brown hair
8% have red or reddish hair

75% of Rachel Crushes play a musical instrument of some sort, either as a vocation or an avocation (60% are music majors).

I seem to have preferences toward certain instruments. Of the 75% who play an instrument:
17% play percussion
14% play double bass
14% play guitar
11% play saxophone
7% play cello
the remainder is divided amongst non-classical keyboard, other orchestral string instruments, and winds

Learn to Speak Germasian!

It's come to my attention that some of the things I say should be interpreted in ways other than their literal meanings. This has caused confusion with my parents since I've been back home, so I felt compelled to try and clear things up. I may regret this later, but here it is: Conversational Germasian 101. I'll give the phrase itself first, and the Germasian translation following.

1. (English) He's a good kid = (Germasian) I have a crush on him.
2. You're a good kid = I feel like I should have a crush on you, but I don't really feel like it would go anywhere.
3. I dunno = I don't want to tell you.
4. You're dumb = I feel really comfortable around you.
5. We should hang out sometime = You should call me, because I want to spend time with you but I suck at using the phone.
6. You did a wonderful job at (such and such a performance); I was so moved = You're hot.
7. I love that kid = He's great, but I could never date him.
8. I don't care = I'd rather you choose and be happy.
9. Let's be friends = I hope we're already friends.
10. You're a good person = I love you.

The Queen of the Awkward Mosquito Bite

Yes, friends, that is me. Mosquitoes eat me as though they were on the Atkins diet and I were a piece of white bread. The thing is, they don't just bite me in normal places, say, my arms or legs. They're brutal. The following are places that you should never try to get bitten by a mosquito:

*in between your toes
*on your Achilles tendon
*at the exact spot on the inside of your knee where your cello touches you
*anyplace covered by a bathing suit (trust me, i've got a couple of those right now)
*anywhere on your face
*on the spot on your back that you can't reach

Yeah . . . good times.

In Other News, I got a job! Glamorous. So glamorous, in fact, that people dress up like me for Halloween!



Yes, I'm a maid. Not a French Maid, though, so I don't think I get to wear the sassy black and white digs. The company is called "Maid in America," so maybe I'll look more like this:



















In any case, I think being a maid ramps my sex appeal by at least 50%. Please feel free to fall in love with me now.

Strange Happenings Afoot in Ole Denton-town . . .

I think I just saw a UFO. Now, there's no way that I can be certain of this, but it seems the only logical explanation for what my mother and I saw as we walked our dog around the block. The only logical explanation.

The light coming from behind the tree seemed like it might have been lightning. But it kept flashing, in the same area of the sky, as though it were sending some kind of signal . . .

As we walked a little futher, enabling us to see more of the sky behind the tree, we noticed the light source was filling the whole section of the sky with light--green, blue, white, pink--flashing all the time. Then, suddenly, the lights stopped.

After talking with my dad, we determined that the only feasable conclusion involves aliens, coming to Earth to begin taking over. The lights were clearly meant as a "go ahead" signal--their advanced sort of morse code--for the rest of the aliens on planet Snorg, signaling that the coast was clear, and that they could all land their little spaceships in Denton and everywhere else.

I don't know what the Snorgians will do when they take over planet Earth, but it's been nice knowing you all, in the likely event that we never see each other again.

The Velvet Twinkie

The Menu from the Original Velvet Twinkie! For my brother's birthday last July, my roommates and I set up a restaurant in our backyard. He and his then-girlfriend (now wife) came to the Velvet Twinkie for a romantic dinner for two. This was the menu:

Entrees (all entrees come with a house salad)

Shish kebabs--fresh chicken with assorted fruits and vegetables grilled in an Asian glaze and served on a skewer with wild rice

Gut Casserole--the innards of various animals in a mint-pickle sauce, topped with crispy pan-fried spider legs and served with pickled pigs' feet

Air soup--our house specialty: a light soup served room-temperature with pollen garnish

Desserts

Death by Chocolate--a rich piece of chocolate cake with chocolate frosting dusted with cocoa powder

Just Regular Death--we kill you with a sharp chef's knife

An Acrostic Poem

My brother wrote this for me on my last birthday:

Twenty-two
Old
Lovely
Intelligent
Energetic
Terrific

Pumpernickel
Angelic
Positive
Erreplacable
Rachel

I'm pretty sure he meant to misspell "irreplaceable," but I'm not sure that he meant to misspell "toilet." Pretty funny stuff