Jay

I was quite sad that Jay Leno was cut from the talk show called "The Tonight Show with Jay Leno," in which he did a humorous monologue, looked at funny headlines, trademarked Jaywalking, interviewed famous people, and showcased various musicians for the closing act

But then he was given a new show!  It's a talk show called "The Jay Leno Show," in which he...

Wait.  He does a humorous monologue, looks at funny headlines, continues Jaywalking,  interviews famous people, and showcases various musicians for the closing act.

So what's the difference?  For me, the difference is that I'm unfortunately awake late enough to watch it.  And I'm learning something.  Maybe it was because it aired at 10:30 pm before, or maybe he had different writers, or maybe it was the lighting, but for some reason, it's just unfunny.  At 9:00 pm I'm just not tired enough to think that his repetitive puns and Kimmel-like video spoofs are inventive or even funny.  In those videos, he decides to try a bit of acting.  Guess what.  He's terrible.  My 15-year-old brother could give a more convincing "surprise face" or "devious face" or "excited face," and my brother is a one-look guy (i.e., "I didn't do anything wrong!").

Basically, it's at a bad time-slot, he must have lost some writers, and the new bright lighting doesn't pay him any favors.  He looks shorter.  Like a vulnerable old man.  And for that reason, I can still feel for him.  I was excited that he had a new show, but this just isn't what I expected.  There was the phrase "variety show" in the air last spring, and I was unpleasantly surprised to find it is just a late-night show clone.

I think it's time for Jay to spend a little more time in the garage with his cars, and let SVU come back to 9:00.  At least they can act.

The Engagement

It started when I got off work on November 24th, the Monday before Thanksgiving and a few days after Trevor had gone to Idaho Falls to ask my dad's permission to marry me. I called Trevor and told him I'd be running a few minutes late for dinner, because my phone was almost dead and I left my charger at my apartment. He had been in my apartment that day to put in a coffee table and end table from his grandparents, and offered to just pick it up for me, as he was "still in the neighborhood." So I drove to Trevor's house and waited for him to get there. I knew we were going to dinner at Chili's, which was where we had our first date, and we hadn't been back since. He was VERY insistent about going out, even though I kept reminding him that we needed to cut back on the spending and eating out.

Should have been my first clue.

But we had just been looking at rings that morning, and I know that rings can take a while to order and size, etc. So I brushed it off as Trevor just really having a hankering for shrimp alfredo. Not to mention, while I was waiting for him at his parent's house, his mom asked me if we wanted some dinner. I told her we were going out, and I caught a disapproving glance. She thinks we shouldn't eat out so much either. I figured if she knew what was going on that night, she wouldn't ask me if we wanted dinner. When Trevor got there, he threw himself together pretty quickly, and his dad kept pulling him into the next room to talk to him. Trevor's dad is a man of very few words.

Should have been my second clue.

But we had just been looking at rings that morning, and I know that proposals normally take more than a day to plan... So I brushed it off as his dad lecturing him about eating out. So we headed out to dinner at Chili's and sat at the same table that we sat at on our first date. We ordered a white chocolate lava mountain dessert thing to go. The keyless entry on the van actually worked for the first and last time in a few years, as we were walking out to the van. Interesting. We got to my apartment, when I realized I had forgotten my purse and beloved scarf at Chili's. So back to the restaurant, and back to my apartment. I walked in the front door and noticed that, yes, Trevor had moved in the coffee table and end table, and he also covered them, and my kitchen table, with rose petals.

Should have been my third clue.

But instead I started to ferociously count up the days and weeks in my head since we had been dating. Because surely he couldn't be proposing already! Rings take a couple weeks or so to order and size. But without pulling out the calendar on my phone, I didn't have a chance of figuring it out. So I went to the living room and the coffee table had the rose petals, Reese's peanut butter cups, and Dove chocolates all over, with a vase of the roses that remained after the petal damage was done.

Fourth clue?

Trevor went into the bathroom and I have to confess...while he was in there I checked the bottom drawer of the coffee table for a ring box. Nothing. So I waited for him to come back, and possibly apologize for something he had done wrong? Who knows at this point. He came back, asked me if I would put our to-go food in the fridge. I'm still trying to figure it out. It takes weeks for a ring to be ordered... Right? Or does it? So I put our food away, and come back in the living room. Trevor's on one knee.

Fifth clue.

I still couldn't believe it. There's no way he can be proposing right now! We just looked at rings today! The rest is a little bit of a blur. After he asked me to marry him, I think I got a little impatient and checked the drawer again, because his eyes kept darting to it... There it was. That was it.

Sixth clue.

I finally got it. He pulled out the ring, and asked me again. I'm pretty sure I said yes after he asked again. I think he got worried after I didn't answer. Hard to answer when you can't breathe. Well, the rest is history! And I'm going to be practicing reading clues a little better...

Graduation

Wow. I picked up my graduation cap and gown at the Holt Arena today. They had all the chairs for the graduates set up, and there was a team of people ironing the flags for each of the colleges, and the lines were freshly painted on the turf... that's when it hit me. I'm graduating. I've been going to school for 4 years, soaking information up like a sponge and leaking it onto paper every 4 weeks or so. It's been what they told me to learn, and now they're going to give me a piece of paper that says that I did what they wanted me to do. I gave them 4 years of my life. It better be worth it.

I have to be honest. One of the things I've most been looking forward to for the last 4 years is answering "Bachelor's degree" on the education level question they always ask in the Harris Poll surveys... Until now, it's always been "Some college." I answered "Bachelor's" for the first time last week. I figured I'm close enough... for all intensive purposes, I have my degree. I'm a big person now. I have a full-time job, with benefits after 90 days... paying twice as much as I'm making right now. I'm okay with that. I got the job last week and started training on Tuesday, but why didn't that help drive it home? I'm making plans to take classes in the fall and then get into the Master's program in the spring, but that didn't really hit me either...

It's just another step in my life. It just seems like such a natural transition. Go to high school, graduate, get a job. Go to college, graduate, get a job. Go to grad school, graduate, get a job. I don't think that the whole high school graduation thing hit me until I had started school and was probably about halfway through the semester. I can't pinpoint an exact instance, because I don't think it was anything big. I think it was something like I was walking down the street and looking at all the buildings and people and my whole new lifestyle and it just hit me - I'm in college. I'm on my own. I'm a big person now.

But I realized today, and I haven't even finished yet. My next final is this morning. Then I'm "done" with finals. Not really, because you have finals in grad school... so that's not really a big deal. I have a new job, but it doesn't seem like anything that you have to be super-qualified to do, so it just seems like another summer job. I ordered my graduation materials and there's going to be a little party for me, but I've been too busy to think about what that all means. But today, when I walked into the Holt Arena, and imagined myself standing there with my family and friends watching, and when I walked across that soft, fake turf and found the package with my name written on it, and when I bought myself a little souvenir tassel and switched it out with my old high school tassel, it became something real. It's going to happen. In 2 days. I have 2 paper links left from my original chain of 260+. I put my high school tassel away... I don't belong to Hillcrest anymore. I belong to ISU. I am now going to be recognized as a product of ISU. I'm no longer just "a college student." I'm a college graduate. Not to say that I haven't thought about that already, but I've been pretty used to my identity as a typical college student. My new identity is that of a college graduate. I didn't flunk out. I didn't just barely scrape by. I don't have thousands of dollars in student loans. I'm going on to grad school. Some might venture to call me responsible... Let's not fool ourselves though...

A Little Tagging Action

All right. I'll humor you. I was tagged by Sister. I will do the tagging on Facebook.

20 years ago: Well, I was a year and a half. So I vividly remember, of course. All I can really say is what I've been told. I ate, slept, and screamed in between. My little sis was born a month before, but I'm quite sure I didn't care because it didn't have anything to do with me. And quite frankly, all she did was take attention away from me.

10 years ago: I would have been 11 and a half. My world was turning upside down. I was brutally uprooted from my place of birth and transplanted in Idaho, which, quite frankly, wasn't a great match for me. My life sucked. Pardon my French.

5 years ago: I was 16 and a half. I had been on two dates, both of which were lame girl's-choice dances. Horribly depressed, but getting straight A's in school, and adjusting to some new friends.

3 years ago: I was 18 and a half (If you haven't figured it out yet, half years are very important. If you'd like to buy me a gift on my next half-birthday, it's February 27th). I had somehow warmed up to Idaho. I was finishing out my freshman year at ISU, and trying to decide whether I was really wanted to be here, and whether I was really wanted to be an art education major. I started to whip myself into shape - I had barely pulled the 3.0 required to keep my scholarship that previous semester. I had had a lot of fun... and ended up needing a little extra income. I began my second job ever, working across the street at Subway.

Last year: I was 20 and a half. For some reason, I could never remember that I was 20. I answered "19" when people asked how old I was (unless I thought about it for about a minute) and when I met other people that were 19, I thought, "Oh, that's how old I am!" I finally figured it out about a month before my next birthday, which is traditionally when I begin telling people that I am a year older. So I was never really 20. I was finishing off my junior year, now as a full-blown psychology student. Go figure. I was totally loving it. Psychology is definitely my thing.

Yesterday: Was Thursday. I've always loved Thursdays. I'm 21 and a half. I had breakfast with my mother which was wonderful and glorious, although she conveniently left her purse at home... Haha. Just means I'm one-up. I went to class, met with a professor to get the ActiGraph necessary for my participation in a sleep study, talked to a friend for a while, went to work, ate dinner at the Rendezvous with Josh, and went to bed. Slightly unusual day.

Today: Is Friday. I woke up on time. I got ready on time. I went to class and work (on time), where I was actually busy, did some laundry, went to class again, and did some more laundry. At the present time, I am "working." I started my tax return, and I might get a little bit of a refund this year... I also had a good long chat with my coworker about what I'm planning on doing with the rest of my life, which is starting to seem more and more real. And scary.

Tomorrow: Will be Saturday. Mom's coming to visit! Then I'll party like a rockstar, possibly work on some homework, then party like the Irish. It would also be nice to get my room clean sometime tomorrow...

This month: I need to study for the Psychology GRE. I have a couple papers to write. I'll be working most of Spring Break. It would also be nice to get my room clean sometime this month...

This year: Man, this is presumptuous. Like I actually have a clue as to what I'll be doing the rest of the year... I wish I knew. All I know is I'll be graduating May 10th, and Kandie comes home in December! It would also be nice to get my room clean sometime this year...

i hate steve wilkos

i have only seen a few episodes of the steve wilkos show, but what i've seen just makes me angry to watch. i wonder... what qualifications does he even have? how is it that he has a talk show that is meant to help people by yelling through their problems? what kind of education does he have? any? his "meet steve wilkos" offers these qualifications:

• he is 6'3''


• he was once the head of security on the jerry springer show


• he is an ex-marine


• he was in the chicago police department


• he filled in for springer for about two years


• he watches cartoons with his two children


• he was in "austin powers: the spy who shagged me"


• he is a regular at the chicago cubs baseball games

and, consistent to these qualifications, these are some of the services he offers:

• steve will set an unfit parent straight


• steve will confront someone who is destroying your life


• steve will listen to a story that would make him explode


• steve will talk some sense into a deadbeat parent


• steve will help someone get out of or even want to get out of an abusive relationship


• steve will give a someone who is in the middle of a family crisis a wakeup call


• steve will step in the middle of a feud


• steve will stand up to someone who has wronged you


• steve will rescue you if you are on the run and tired of hiding

that's pretty impressive. let me tell you what steve will actually do. steve will make judgments before the guests even appear on the show. steve will get in the guests' faces and scream his opinion. steve will never consider the fact that the "victim" could be lying. steve will unconditionally trust fallible tests, like the lie detector test. steve will verbally assault his guests. steve will force out false apologies. steve will not solve anybody's problems. steve will only publicize them and boost up his ratings.

steve is a moron.

and needs to be cancelled.

Blogs

I always feel so much pressure when I decide to write a blog. Not only does it have to be an interesting, original topic, but it also has to be so witty and clever. Unless I feel particularly driven to write about something, I'll just sit at my computer and stare, with my fingers on the keyboard. Lightly tapping. Just enough pressure to make noise, but not enough to make any actual keystrokes.

I find it rather soothing. Because my fingers don't even know what to write. And recently, they don't even know how to write. I can't say how many times I have to backspace something that I mistyped. This shouldn't worry me, but I'm supposed to be perfect at everything... and I'm often praised for my typing skills.

"Wow, you can type without looking at your fingers???"

"Yeah, but I have to constantly backtrack and retype EVERYTHING I write..."

A silly thing to want to be proud of.

And I think I'm getting carpal tunnel. My hand hurts, close to my wrist. Not my actual wrist, mind you, but pretty close to it. I can feel it when I bend my wrist down, like I want you to kiss my hand.

"It hurts when I do this..."

"Then don't do that..."

That's the stupidest advice I have ever heard.

I think it's all from this semester's intense typage. I'm constantly responding to emails for work. I write page-long shift reports 4 days a week. I type all my notes for class. And at 11 hours of class a week, not to mention the extra 1 hour spent for every 1 hour in class, typing outlines of my chapters, typing takes up about half of my life.

So please forgive me if any of my posts in the future are short, boring, or non-clever.

My hands and my brain are slowly turning to mush.