Caprice and me

CAPRICIOUS: (adjective) impulsive, like when you change your mind on a whim, or unpredictable, like when you're teetering on the edge of disaster

My Ukrainian host mother, Alya, once told me that I was capricious. What? I wondered. I didn't know the word in Ukrainian. We had to look up the translation. At first, I was shocked. I know my own mind, I thought. Why would Alya think that I was such a flake?

It turns out that this word describes me more than I would think. It's not a horrible thing. It's not as if I can't make small decisions and rely on other people to help. Instead, I tend to make decisions quickly and on a whim. My check book has always suffered from this part of me. I'm what my mom calls an impulsive shopper. It's sad, I know.

Before coming to the U of O, I actually had a bit of a mid-twenties crisis. I couldn't decide whether or not to attend. I asked so many people for advice. What should I do, I asked. In the end, it didn't really matter what they said. I decided to come here because I fell in love with the program, or the idea of the program at least.

I'm hoping that my capriciousness doesn't hinder me in some way. Example: meeting some guy on a trip to Vegas and getting hitched because I "feel the spark." Not a good idea. We'll see. I never know quite how my life is going to turn out. And that's a good thing, I think.

sister of England

"No people have true common sense but those who are born in England."
--CHARLES DE MONTESQUIEU--

When I was in high school, I started to beieve that I had been born in the wrong place. I thought I belonged in England, that I should have been born there. My inability to catch a high school boyfriend led me to develop a crush on Prince William. This crush extended to all boys with British accents. Upon graduation, I planned to move to England, permanently, and to find my prince.

Things didn't turn out quite how I had planned. Instead of going to England, I went to Idaho. I felt it was a good choice. It was my two sisters that drew me to college at NNU. During my four years at NNU, I spent five months living in England. I liked it, but decided that I didn't want to live there forever. Perhaps the truth was that I didn't feel scholarly enough to live there forever. Nonetheless, I ended up back in the states.

These days, I am starting to long for England again. I miss her rich history and the beautiful underground. Hopefully, I'll be heading back there before I hit 30. I have a few years. It could happen.

Date Night

Friday nights are fun nights. Couples go home, dress up, and head out for an evening free of work and chaos. Some watch movies. Some hang out in the bars. Others go to friends' houses. But basically, Fridays are the day to celebrate and enjoy the start of the weekend.

Tonight, I had a lame Friday night (date night). It wasn't due to not having a date (which I didn't have because at present I have no boyfriend). Nor was it because I didn't hang out at a bar or restaurant with my Eugene friends.

My night was lame because I called the dell guy. For 30 minutes, I waited on the phone for someone to answer. During this time, I sliced some bread, wrote a thank you card, and wrote a complaint on facebook. Then, Nicolas in Florida answered the phone. For an hour and fifteen minutes, Nic and I tried to figure out what is wrong with my computer. We had no luck. When he was working with me on the computer, everything seemed to be fine. Talk about embarrassing. He had a cute voice so of course I was a little embarrassed. But now, as I sit here typing, my keys continue to fail me.

My date with Nic was unsuccessful. My computer is still a little edgy. She's mad about something I'm sure. And I'm pretty sure I'll never chat with Nic, my dell date, ever again.

what ice cream should be

Ice cream should be flavorful. This is one lesson I have yet to teach my parents. These two sixty-somethings think that vanilla is the best and only flavor of ice cream. What could they possibly be thinking? What about Goo-Goo Cluster? Peppermint? And cheesecake ice cream? There are so many kinds of ice cream.

This morning, my mom bought pumpkin ice cream for me. I made a big deal about the kind of ice cream we were going to eat at our barbeque. It should be good. At least it's not plain, boring vanilla.

Movie girl

Movies. I absolutely love movies. I think that going to a movie is one of my favorite things to do for fun. I suppose it has something to do with my family. That used to be what our family did together. We'd go to the movies for New Years or sometimes even on Christmas day.

Today, I went to see All About Steve with my best friend's mom. It was pretty good. I laughed so hard through the first half. It was so crazy and ridiculous. And then the movie's ending was just as it should have been. I'm probably not going to buy it, but I imagine netflixing it in the future.

Band of Horses

When I was in Ukraine, I started getting into music. I discovered Death Cab and realized that there was an entire part of loving music that I was missing. My concert experience had been extremely limited. Since the end of 2007, I have been trying to fix the problem. I go to concerts. I listen to music I love. I'm starting to try bands I kinda know. I did that tonight.

Tonight, Band of Horses came to Eugene. I bought their newest CD a few weeks ago, to get ready for the concert. It helped to know a few of the songs, but I still think I could have loved the show had I not known any of the tunes.

Here is a video of one of my favorite of their songs. It's the first song of their second album, the one I currently own.

I'm hoping to check out some other bands and music around Eugene this fall. If you have any suggestions, please share.

Ring, ring

Dayton is a small town. Just about everybody knows the names of everybody around them. New people don't take long getting acquainted and finding their footing in the community.

In junior high, I broke out of my first shell. (I would say I have had more than one shell because of the VARIOUS changes I've gone through in my life.) I was loud, I was outgoing, and I was easy to talk to. At the beginning of my eighth grade year, I became the new girl's first best friend. We had P.E. together. I'm sure she picked me because I could fill her in on all the gossip. I've always been good at juicing up stories. Nonetheless, the two of us became good friends. I realized this when she called me every day to talk on the phone. "What do I say to her?" I asked my mom. You see, I didn't like talking on the phone. It seemed like a waste. I didn't understand the purpose. If we wanted to talk, why not just hang out at the Pirate's Den?

My opinion on phone talking changed when I moved to England. The first time, when I studied in London, I would find the red telephone booths and call my mom from them. They were so cool. I refused to call her from another type of phone. When I lived in Oxford, I came to enjoy the phone even more. I would call my mom or my sister, Shanna, to find out new news and see what was up on the homefront.

The real phone-talker in me came out in Ukraine. I called my mom once asking her to give me a wake-up call. At the time, I didn't know how to set my phone alarm. Later, I would call my sister, Shanna, because there were people shouting at me outside my windows at 2 a.m. Although I enjoyed my life in Ukraine, it was essential for me to keep in contact with my people back home.

In the past few years, I have tried to become less of a phone-talker again. Unfortunately, I can hardly go a day without talking to my mom on the phone. There is always a really good story to tell her. And my sister, Shelli, lives all the way in Idaho. The only way I can keep up with her is via telephone.

Today, I talked to my seven-year-old nephew, Spencer, on the phone for a few minutes. After telling me a few things about school and his new teacher, he told me that his mouth hurt so he couldn't talk anymore. Um, that's just funny. How many times have I wanted to tell people that my ear or my hand is killing me? I'm a dork. I know it. Before, I've positioned my phone to rest on the same pillow as my head so I didn't have to work at talking on the phone. Perhaps I should invest in one of those headsets for my cell phone.

Phones are okay. They keep us connected. I just like to chat too much. Phones COULD become a real problem. If that ever happens and I have to go to AA-type meetings regarding phone use, you'll still probably be able to find me active on facebook. I'm just THAT kind of social!