It's not me, it's you

When I was in high school I went to BYU sports camp. At the time I didn't like BYU, or Provo, or Utah in general. But I really really liked swimming and so I went to sports camp and had the time of my life as the queen of the swimmers.

No really.

I was the queen.

Two other girls, five guys, and myself were the royal court of all things swimming, which was super fun until those boys sent flowers to the girls from softball camp. Yes, softball. Gross, right? Me and my swimmer girls were mad, and to get back at the fellas we bought BYU football shirts because we knew the swimmer boys hated the football players way more than we disliked the softball players. Then we wore said shirts to the camp-wide talent show.Sorry for the terrible quality. It's actually a photo of a print. Long story.

Not the most devastatingly mean scheme a high school kid has ever pulled off, but it was effective and since then my BYU football shirt has always brought me luck in sports, and a sentimental twinkle in my eye, every time I put it on.

Until this month.

This is my shirt now, 10 years later, kinda faded but still true blue. I've since grown to love BYU and support my Cougs with clear eyes and a full heart. I've worn this shirt at every BYU football game (and not a few basketball games) for years now, but I was convinced that for some reason this season it was JINXED!

I wore it to the Ole Miss game and we squeaked by. I wore it on the day of the Texas game and we lost. I wore it to the Utah game and we got nailed to a wall and then set on fire. I couldn't take another loss so I wore something else to last week's UCF game and we got another "W" (barely). So this week I really thought about leaving the shirt at home, but I put it on... and instantly regretted it when Utah State ran 80 yards for a touchdown on the FIRST play! I asked my friend for a new shirt and he said "no", but I'm glad he did because when the game ended with a "W" I realize that it wasn't the shirt at all.

It was a terrible quarterback who was ruining my life with losses and near-losses. But along came Riley Nelson and all is right with the world again. Thanks Riley. I thought I was gonna have to burn this shirt that I love so much. Keep up the good work, and I'll keep wearing my good-luck shirt.

Ugh

Pretty much since the day I turned 25 I no longer think of my age in terms of years-completed. I now think of my age in years-until-I-hit-30.

Today is my half birthday. That means that I am 6 months closer to turning 30.

I was already feeling nauseated. This realization isn't helping.
Happy half-birthday to me.

Surprises are the BEST!

About a week ago my dear friend Margan Joy Poulos (née Neumarker) sent me a message and asked me for my address. I sent it to her and then spent the next day or so wondering what in the world she might need said address. It's not my birthday. It's not Christmas. She's already married, so it's not a wedding announcement. Her super cute baby boy has been around long enough that it probably wasn't a birth announcement.

Why else would someone need my address?

I asked her and she wouldn't tell me... and I was kinda happy she didn't because I LOVE surprises. So I've been checking my mailbox everyday since. Sometimes I check it twice because I think I might have checked it too early. But there's never anything in it.

Today I got a tiny manila envelope stuck in my door which contained a package slip with MY NAME on it! JOY! So as I skipped off down the hall towards the elevators I was racking my brain trying to think of anything I've ordered lately... which is nothing. Imagine my surprise when I got down to where the packages are and the valet handed me a large package from the one-and-only Margs!

Of course I didn't wait until I was in my apt to try and open it. I say try because my key could only cut through the tape down the middle, not the edges so I could only see a lovely lufa sticking up out of the red tissue paper. I have to say that made me laugh really hard because I've been studying at home all.stinkin.day and I haven't taken a shower yet and it kinda felt like Margs' Facebook stalking had turned to real stalking and she was pointing out the obvious. BUT it was also awesome because for several weeks I've been thinking I need a new lufa, but I never remember it when I get to the store!

When I got it open the box was chock-full of stuff I love and need and even some silliness which I'd never think to buy myself (a mardi-gras style St. Patrick's Day beaded necklace, a "kiss me I'm Irish" flashing pin, etc), and to go with it there was a really sweet card from my dear friend telling me she remembers being a big school-related-stress-ball and she wanted to lift my spirits.
Margan and I have been friends since we were three. We've got all kinds of history and inside jokes (as evidenced by a reference on the card to getting drunk off Martinelli's which made me bust up laughing) She's now a wife and she has a three-year-old and a new-born, and she works part time, and she's got to be crazy busy in her own life. It means so much to me that I have such an amazing friend who sees an opportunity to serve someone else and does it. Margs you're one in a million and I'm so glad we've been friends nearly a quarter of a century. Not many people have friendships like that. I love you lots. Thanks for looking out for my mental health!

I wish I had an arc!

It's getting steadily colder as Fall rolls through the DC area and I'm coming to terms with Summer being over (finally). Ever since I discovered wellies I haven't minded the rain so much. I pull on my wellies, rock my trench, and top it off with the umbrella SDSU gave me for being smarter than the average bear.

This morning I walked out of my apt bldg with said armor and yet it wasn't enough. It wasn't close to enough! My umbrella kept flipping inside out due to the inane winds, while fixing slash preventing said umbrella debacle I got all kindsa water down my sleeves and collar, my jeans stayed dry under my wellies but got soaked everywhere else. Good thing I took the 15 minutes to straighten my hair this morning. Now I'm stuck with wavy frizzy nastiness.

But as uncomfortable as I the walk from home to metro, metro to bus, and bus to class turned out to be, it was actually kinda awesome b/c I did it with Adeline and we laughed until we cried! I stopped on the corner of 15th and Joyce b/c I couldn't breathe anymore. I was laughing that hard. If I'd been alone I would have just been flustered and drenched, but since Adeline was there I could see exactly what I looked like by looking at her! Poor thing was not as well prepared clothing-wise. Her umbrella flipped so many times that 3 prongs ripped loose of the fabric, rendering the bumbershoot useless. Her hair was wet when we left, so I was kinda shocked how much wetter it became. Her poor little khaki's were so wet they were a little see-through and she thinks they're gonna get all stretched out. She even had a tiny bit of mascara running. Oh Ade how I love having you for a roommate and laughing at freak deluges.
So sad I couldn't NOT take a picture. BUT we stopped to take this and still didn't miss our train! Thank heaven for small favors.

If Idle Hands Are the Devil's Workshop...

... Then I'm headed for sainthood!

I'm super crazy busy these days, which is why when my roommate Adeline requested that I blog about something she didn't already know about, it took me two weeks to do it (btw- this is it. ya know, in case you didn't get that). So Ade this is dedicated to YOU!

"Well," you might be asking yourself, "what could be so clever, funny, touching, or otherwise noteworthy that you'd take time from your super crazy busy day in order to let us all know via the interwebs?" Well, savvy reader, I did laundry today.

You might think that's no big deal ("NBD" for you whippersnappers out there), but you have to take into account that I'm super crazy busy (as previously mentioned. twice.) so
A) I don't want to waste my time with things like grocery shopping, showering (I do give in on that one for the sake of others, but it's a huge sacrifice and I don't mind saying I don't always shave my legs. so there!), OR doing laundry. it's be WEEKS.
B) It's been WEEKS, so there's a crap ton of the stuff and the laundry room is getting renovated TOMORROW and it will be shut down for 3 weeks and I'm trying to avoid lugging my crap ton of laundry to the bldg next door.

Get it?

Oh it gets better.

Because I'm so super crazy busy I could only justify laundry day if I multitasked it (even now I'm doing 12 things at once. Bet you didn't suspect that b/c I do it so successfully), so I took the book for my Caribbean Culture class and stuck it in my laundry basket so as to have something to read while I wait for the wash. This cuts down on the up/down elevators while still keeping me moderately busy (like I said, I prefer to undertake a higher level of multitasking). You can only imagine my excitement about actually getting a machine (apparently other people don't want to lug their crap ton of laundry to the other bldg so the ENTIRE bldg is doing laundry today) and i got not 1, but 2!!!! Next to each other!!!!

So I loaded up and walked away, content in my productivity... which seemed a little on the light side... because?

I FORGOT MY BOOK IN MY BAG! THE CONTENTS OF WHICH WAS ENTIRELY IN THE MACHINE!!!!!

I yelled out "HOLYOHMYGOSHNOOOOOO!", ran back to the machines, sifted through both, up to my elbows in soapy, dirty water and dirtier clothes, didn't find anything, ran up to my apt to make sure I really did take the book, and confirmed that yes, it was gone. (Deep breath) Went back to machines, opened the darks and found little pieces of white, super clean, paper all over the place.

Perfect.

Not my best laundry day, plus now I have no idea how I'm going to complete this assignment (did I mention the book is "La Carreta"? A play from Puerto Rico? As in, I can't run across the street to the bookstore and get a new one? Yeah, there'll be no Spanish reading today.

Which is why I had time to blog this.

Letters from JuliaJane

Here's the letters from the last week or so. I don't care if no one else reads them, but it's fun for me to see them all in one place and think about how my week went.

Oct 16: dear paper- you're done. except for one transition and the conclusion you're done. so why can't you just figure out those last two things for yourself? why do you hate me and make me agonize over how to polish you? why paper? why are you so mean? sincerely- your apparent nemesis, juliajane

Oct 18: dear 1-armed guy playing tennis- u are my hero. I can't play tennis w 2 arms. that is all. sincerely- juliajane

Oct 18: dear black cat- I know this is a haunted tour of alexandria, but u peeking out at us from inside george washington's town house right after we heard about the cat bodies in the carlyle mansion is seriously creepy. sincerely- juliajane

Oct 19: dear world- my grandma is cuter than ur grandma. sincerely- juliajane

Oct 19: dear randoms in STM- you're lost & need help. fine. while friends are often amazed at my wealth of knowlege, you don't know me & you couldn't possibly look at my messy hair, t-shirt, sweats, & running shoes & think to yourself "i bet that girl gets the mail here" or "i bet that girl knows where so-&-so's office is" or... "i bet that girl knows if i should knock before opening this door". i don't. sincerely- juliajane

Oct 20: dear varsity athlete that just walked by- apparently u don't know that there's a seat in this window. that or ur just really confidant in ur dancing/ singing abilities. sincerely- juliajane

Oct 20: dear man on 30th- do u have to pick the poop off ur long haired lap dogs every single time they go twosies? why would u subject urself to that? shave their butts or something! sick nasty. sincerely- juliajane

Oct 20: dear world- I'm at ford's theater & just in case a famous actor shoots me dead in my box seat, I just want u to know it's been a lovely ride. sincerely- juliajane

Oct 21: dear super hot guy on my floor- why do I ONLY see you when I look gross? and not like a little gross. like dirty hair, ugly tshirt, just woke up kinda gross. sincerely juliajane. ps- I lurv you.

Oct 23: dear little girl in the pumpkin patch- ur adorable but it's probably a bad idea to ask a total stranger if she's seen ur mom anywhere. good thing ur dad is w u. sincerely- juliajane

Oct 24: dear giants- i do appreciate you winning. it's really making me feel nice that my team is going to the world series and that all those phillies fans are crying in their cheesesteaks. much love- juliajane

Oct 24: dear Sunday- you've treated me so well today. dinner with friends. hanging out with roommates, even that awkward dessert party was fun in a special kind of way. thanks for being lovely. sincerely- juliajane

Oct 25: dear weird man- i don't know why you walked into the auditorium where i'm having class. i don't know why you snapped a photo. i for sure don't know why you're mumbling to yourself about how many seats are in here. please don't talk to me. please leave soon. sincerely- juliajane

Oct 26: dear brain- class is over. switch to english please. actually, as long as I'm making requests, switch to patho please. much obliged- juliajane

The "Other" Law of Physics

Tonight I was going out with my roommate and another friend that lives in our bldg. We do this thing where Stefi comes down from the 17th floor and sticks her head out of the elevator on my floor and we all ride down together. Well it just so happened that tonight all 3 of us ladies were not exactly looking our best and the super beautiful man that lives on my floor also decided to get in the elevator.

Perfect.

Of course I turned this moment into a FB letter from JuliaJane:

dear super hot guy on my floor- why do I ONLY see you when I look gross? and not like a little gross. like dirty hair, ugly tshirt, just woke up kinda gross. sincerely juliajane. ps- I lurv you

I joked to the girls that this is some sick law of physics. The grosser I look, the more likely I am to see hotness. But seriously people. It's a law of physics and I'm blogging about it so that credit comes to me and no one runs away with my Nobel Prize. Peep this:

There is only so much hotness allowed in a space at any given time (there's a catch to this). If super hot guy on my floor (heretofore referred to as 9th floor hotness, or NFH) is looking especially dreamy, then it follows that I won't see him until I'm taking out the trash, in my pj's, a huge zit on my face, and my hair will be doing something insane which probably goes above and beyond even what those weird hair-show guys create. If the only person in the hall is some old man who's too blind to even know I'm there, then my hair will be perfect, my skin will give off a lovely dewy glow, I'll obviously have on my most flattering outfit, and I won't have been anywhere near the trash so I'll smell nice. Understand?

Now for the catch. The closer you are to home, the greater hold this law has over you. (It's like gravity. The closer you are to the sun, the stronger it's gravitational pull.) This is why people have romantic flings on vacation: You're far from home. You're hot, he's hot. It works.

Really what I need is to move to the nether-regions of Antarctica (yes, there are nether-regions), and then come VISIT my dear old apt building, at which point I would see NFH, and be so far from home that I'd be way beyond my best self and he'd be smitten, at which point he'd whip out his phone and change his FB status to a letter which would read more or less like this: "Dear hot Antarctica girl- if you could just marry me already that would be swell. Sincerely- NFH, the 3rd." (Why "the 3rd"? Because hotness is genetic and it makes him sound important.)

So that's it. The newest law of physics. The Hotness Quotient. You heard it here 1st folks.

Sincerely-
JuliaJane