Saturday, January 29, 2011

Thoughts on Adult...ness

The sad truth is that legally being classified as an adult has had no effect whatsoever on my responsibility level. Then again, I'm not sure what I was expecting. I guess I had this vision of turning 18 back in July and morphing into someone who:

  • Goes to class regularly.
  • Does homework before the night before the day it's due...
  • ...Or the day it's due.
  • Does laundry before it got to the point where there is only one remaining clean outfit, which outfit may or may not rely heavily on pajama bottoms.
  • Remembers to take their multivitamins, and calcium supplements.
  • Gets up when the alarm goes off, rather then getting up after hitting the snooze button approximately five hundred times.
  • Develops a mature, cultured personality and sense of humor.
  • Actually finishes personal projects, ever.
  • Doesn't spend all her money on frivolous shoes.
  • Washes dishes the moment they are dirtied. Or even the day they are dirtied.
  • Remembers to water her plants.
  • Writes in her journal regularly, rather than starting about six journals a year with the best of intentions, only to give up three entries in.
  • Drinks plenty of water, rather than plenty of ginger ale.
  • Eats enough fiber.
  • Goes to bed at a reasonable hour, rather than staying up till 3 online for no apparent reason. Or rather, a reason that is completely useless, such as collegehumor.
  • Thinks to check whether her temple recommend is in her wallet before she leaves, rather than once she is already at the temple.
I am guilty of not doing all of the above, but weighing on my mind particularly heavily is the last on the above list. I had every intention of going to the temple this morning, once I'd woken up and found out that was in the plans for the day. I got up obscenely early for a Saturday, and I dressed up, and I searched all over my room for my wallet, in which I keep my temple recommend.

Usually.

Long story short, it wasn't there and I found this out when I'd already walked to the temple. Not really all that big a deal, but it only served to reinforce how pathetically infantile I can be in my responsibility level.

So I am now resolved. I am going to act like an adult. I am going to be responsible and actually accomplish things. I am magically going to morph into someone who is motivated. I am going to stop overusing italics now.


The problem, though, is that this is not the first time I've made such an attempt. Far from it. Far better at illustrating the cycle of adulthood than myself, however, is Allie Brosh, writer of Hyperbole and a Half, the funniest blog of all time. If you don't read it, you should. Start here, because this particular post is relevant to what I've been rambling about: "This is Why I'll Never be an Adult."

Also, completely unrelated but extremely important, sort of:

Today, I watched "How to Train Your Dragon," which incidentally is the best movie ever, and discovered, during the closing credits, the most fantastic song. It's called "Sticks and Stones" by Jonsi. You should look it up. Right now. I'm not kidding.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

I feel compelled to write, but my life is boring.

And so I leave you with the following inspirational quote:

"Let's think the unthinkable, let's do the undoable, let's prepare to grapple with the ineffable itself and see if we may not eff it after all." --Douglas Adams

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Are you interested in recieving training for Skid Steer Loaders? Me neither.

Tip of the Day: Never read someone else's blog prior to writing in your own.

I read three. One was very spiritual, one very motivational, and one very funny. Reading these was a mistake, because I both felt compelled to write in my own, and felt inadequate as to the material it is possible for me to provide. I didn't have any spiritual insights today, I don't have any inspiring words to offer, and nothing humorous comes to mind. I am thus consigned to the tedious monotony of describing my day. Which, to sum up, consisted of mindless information about such things as CNA Cycle File Inspection Process and proper lifting procedure.

You see, I started work today. Basically, what my job entails is the following: A client (typically an employer) needs an online training course to be created for his or her employees. We meet with the client and the specified "content expert" (for example, if we're making a course on tree planting for grounds crew the content expert could be the person in charge of correctly planting trees), develop and record a script,  create a visual presentation to illustrate and highlight important points, and post the completed training module online.

My online training, however, consisted of watching about 20 previously constructed online training modules, few of which had anything to do with my particular job and many of which were upwards of twenty minutes long. On the plus side, I now know more than I thought I ever would about asbestos, and I am certified to begin on-the-site training for BYU flower bed design, just in case I ever in my life need on-the-site training for BYU flower bed design.

Not likely.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

Thoughts.

Isn't it amazing how music can dramatically impact your mood? Certain songs can calm you down, make you forget what you were worrying about. Think Enya, or "Three Little Birds" by Bob Marley. Or sometimes, you find songs that become a sort of personal anthem, and make you feel like you can do anything.

And sometimes you get a song you hate stuck in your head, which can send you into a fit of borderline-homicidal rage.

Remember "Smile," by Uncle Kracker? Played incessantly on the Top 40 station over the summer? The one that goes, "You make me smile like the sun / Fall out of bed / Sing like a bird / Dizzy in my head?" I hate that song, largely for the same reason that I'm not particularly fond of "Mamma Mia!", or Fruity Pebbles: Overcompensation for lack of talent, plot, and/or flavor by adding too much sugar.

In other news, hey look I made a blog. I'm really just jumping on the bandwagon here, as one of my friends recently deleted her facebook account and replaced it with a blog. Although I have too little self-control to delete my facebook (which should actually be all the more reason to delete it), blogs are fun. And so here I am.

I may or may not write regularly, but that's okay because really, what is a blog but nonsense thrown into cyberspace and ignored?