A Little Bit of Luck

I had never won anything—not Scrabble, not even elementary-school Bingo—until 11 days ago.

That's when I got this email:

To be honest, I didn't remember entering any such contest, but I dug around online and confirmed that it was legit. And I confirmed that I won.

Booh. Freaking. Yah.

I won.

I won a Garmin GPS running watch worth $200. Joy of joys!!! I am a winner, a real winner at last!

. . . and then I totally forgot about it. Until a package came for me in the mail. I was so confused as to why I would get a package—I didn't order anything, it wasn't my birthday, it wasn't addressed in my mom's or my grandma's handwriting. Still totes perplexed, I pulled open the box. And found this:

Yes. My running watch had arrived. As I totes forgot it was coming, discovering it inside the mysterious box made me feel like I had won all over again.

Now, mind you, this watch is Fancy. Yes, with a capital F. Here's another look:

So Fancy, in fact, that it came with three owner's manuals:

 Seriously. Who knew watches could be so complicated? I didn't even know watches could have a GPS. And this watch is so Fancy that it needs to be plugged into the wall to charge. Like a freaking cell phone. Here's the charger, which also adapts to plug into the computer to track and save all my runs:

Here it is coming out of the packaging. The long black thingy is, yes, a heart-rate monitor. So I can monitor my heart. This thing is seriously like the Fanciest, most expensive non-essential object I own.

Today I took it on a real run. As I hit the pavement, it told me how far I had run, how long it was taking, and what my pace was (which is embarrassingly slow, but at least I run, right?). Totes legit! Here is a pic of the watch after my run. The top number is the distance (in miles); the big number in the middle is the time, and at the bottom is my pace. and the tan, luscious thing it is sitting on is my arm. (Feast your eyes!)

 Yep, I am so cool. I am a winner. I have a new running buddy; I will totes be prepared for my halfie in July. This is me looking oh so fierce (and sweaty) after my watch's inaugural run.

You wish you were this cool.

Peace out.

Life Lessons from a Blonde Lawyeress

Hey kids,

Time to disclose a guilty pleasure: silly, colorful, outrageous chick flicks with ridiculous blonde heroines. Clueless is one favorite—Cher is so inspirational: it most definitely does not say RSVP on the statue of liberty. I also love Sharpay from High School Musical. She's so fabulous!

But my favorite blonde movie is, naturally, Legally Blonde. Elle Woods is everything a classy girl should be: smart, friendly, strong, sassy, skilled, compassionate, and oh so stylish. I mean, she once talked Cameron Diaz out of buying a hideous orange sweater! (Whoever said orange is the new pink was seriously disturbed.)

Tonight I found myself in need of quick upliftment (yes, that word just happened; deal with it)—so the roommies and I popped in Legally Blonde. Not only is Elle's story the perfect lesson in how to get over a man and how to overcome your background to make something of yourself, it's also sparkling with nuggets of pure wisdom. Here is a sampling:

1. Great truths are discovered in a beauty salon.
When sore trials come upon Elle and her ladies, they think to manicure. And pedicure. I mean, no girl can win her man back with unpolished cuticles, right? In the salon, serious enlightenment is born: Elle decides to go to law school, Paulette learns the bend and snap (OMG, works every time!), and a female law professor convinces Elle not to drop out ("If you're going to let one stupid p**** ruin your life... you're not the girl I thought you were").

2. Regular exercise is the key to marital harmony.
Elle explains this one so succinctly in her defense of exercise-video diva Brooke Windom: "Exercise gives you endorphins. Endorphins make you happy. Happy people just don't shoot their husbands." Truer words have rarely ever been uttered. To make sure you play nice with others, get in some exercisin'.
 
3. Find out what you want. Then do it.
When Elle tells her guidance counselor of her Harvard dreams, the counselor  asks for backup schools. "I don't need backups; I'm going to Harvard," quoth Elle. Go, girl! She knew what she wanted and would accept no substitutes. Also, goals change: sometimes when you are on the road to what you think you want, you find the path to what you actually do want. Elle set out to reclaim her man, and instead found her passion for helping others. And a new man, which is also nice :-)

4. Some guys just aren't worth ruining your shoes for.
Warner, Elle's ex-man, is a real tool. He breaks up with her because he needs a "Jackie," not a "Marilyn," and he tells Elle she's stupid—even though she got into Harvard Law (we find out later that he was wait-listed). Eventually she learns what a d-bag he is and gives up trying to reclaim her lost lurve, focusing instead on becoming a real lawyeress. When he breaks up with her at the beginning of the movie, Elle tries to walk home, but Warner convinces her to get back in the car so she doesn't ruin her shoes. My gurlz (mostly for my benefit) began shouting about how men are stupid and telling Elle not to get back in the car. Then our resident ginger added this comment: "Some guys just aren't worth ruining your shoes for." Ladies, we should follow Elle's example and learn to tell the difference.

5. Sometimes you can trust stereotypes. Sometimes you can't.
Case in point for the latter: Elle is not a "dumb blonde with daddy's plastic," even though she has a feather on her pen and carries a chihuahua in her purse. But you can trust some stereotypes: Elle saves the day during her court case by figuring out that Enrique, the pool boy claiming an affair with the defendant, is gay. He tells her, "Don't estomp your little last season Prada shoes at me, honey." (In the musical version, the bend and snap doesn't work on Enrique.) And Elle's 'dar went "bing!" As a wise man once told me, stereotypes are there for a reason :-)

See what you can learn from a powerful, enlightened blonde? On a semi-related note, I'm pretty sure that my life's ambition is to see Legally Blonde: The Musical. 

Cheers!

Twelve for '12

Hey, kids.

The year is waning and it's almost time for a new one. Wah-hoo! To celebrate, all the news media are posting their top stories of the year. As my blog is a "news organ" (and as I rarely update it, oops), I thought I oughta contribute a list of my own "top stories" of 2012. Enjoy!

 1. Published in the Ensign ... four times, baby
My internship with the Ensign ended in April 2011, but my hard work is still paying off—four of my articles were published this year. It was great to see my name in print, but it was even better to get the stories of faithful, amazing people out into the world. Here be the blessed literary gems themselves:

• Finding Answers in the Book of Mormon
• Temple Service and Unexpected Blessings
• Service Never Grows Old
• Young Women and the Mission Decision (No author attribution, but I worked hard on this one so I'm including it.) 

 2. Interning at BYU Magazine

I love my coworkers, I love my assignments, I love the magazine. I have become a much better writer and editor, and I know that's what I want to do for my career. Here's a feature I wrote for the magazine:
Alexander's Box   








3. Deutsch lernen
To fulfill a language requirement for my grad program I decided to learn German. I have taken two semesters and will start another class next semester. Ich liebe Deutsch, but it's hard.

4. Ran a 10K

For the record, that's 6.2 miles. Let me say it again: SIX miles. Six. Plus point two more. This time last year I could barely run three. I ran almost every day all summer and gradually increased my mileage until I could handle six at once. Then on July Fourth, I ran the Freedom Run with some buddies. And rocked it. Boo-yah.

5. Owned Timp 

 My friend Ben begged me all summer to hike Timp with him ... and in a moment of insanity and poor judgment, I finally caved. Climbing that monstrous mountain (the second-highest in Utah Valley) was THE singular most challenging physical feat I have ever attempted. But the beautiful sunrise at the top was totes worth all the pain and lost sleep. I might even do it again. Maybe.


6. Gave away baby sister ... and attended a million other weddings

Twenty-twelve was the year of nuptials. Not mine ... I spent most of it painfully single. But Facebook was leaking engagement announcements and reception invites, and I prolly spent more on wedding and bridal shower gifts than Christmas. Did you know how expensive lingerie is? Heh. It's also super awkward to buy it for your little sister ...  I spent most of the year dreading being the weird old maid at her wedding in August, but it ended up being a blast.

7. Got super tan and hot (until another semester of grad school undid it all)
I spent the summer getting hot. All that running and weight training helped me lose lots of weight, and the time outside made me all tan and healthy-looking. Then school started again, and I got fat and white again. Go figure.

8. Evacuated Singlesville

After 40 years of wandering in the dating wilderness, I finally left Singlesville ( ... maybe as a result of #7?). Brian decided he could put up with me, and after a bit of intrigue we started dating a few days before my birthday in September. Happy birthday to me! My boo has made all of my life happier.

9. Ran a halfie 

My running adventures of 2012 culminated in the Halloween Half Marathon. I dressed up as a cat (Meow!) and was greeted by my adoring fans, i.e. Brian and Bryce, at the finish line. My loyal running companion was Alison, an escaped convict. We is so fierce!

10. Survived the most evil grad class ever
I took, and aced, the most difficult class I have ever taken, ever: Advanced Semantics. The readings took hours, the tests were the stuff of nightmares, and the paper was an evil hairy beast. But now I am done with my classes and just need to take a semester of German ... and write a thesis. Woot! :-/

11. Rolled Coasters. Or Coasted Rollers. Whatever.
Roller coasters I love them, roller coasters I love them! I went to two happy roller coaster homes this year: Lagoon in August and Magic Mountain last week! Lagoon was awesome cuz I got to ride the Colossus and the White Roller Coaster, the heros of my childhood roller coaster romances. Magic Mountain rocked cuz, well, I got to be with my boo and his fantastic family. 

12. Finally lost the sweater vests  
While home for Christmas I went through old artifacts of my childhood and threw away what I no longer needed ... including, after three years, my mission collection of sweater vests, plaid skirts, and even a Jodi dress. I felt a little bad cuz I had so much fun wearing those clothes ... even if I looked like an old frump. I post here a few pictures in remembrance of my rockin' missionary fashions:

My Jodi dress

MTC apparel, complete with dork dot marking me as a nube

"Tracting" in Hermiston. Sure rocked those sweater vests!

That's all, kids! Peace out, prease, till 2013.

Why I hate finals week.

[... because blogging is a great way to procrastinate the inevitable ... ]


-Snow. That three-car crash outside Helaman Halls didn't do any good for my already tenuous confidence in my driving-in-the-snow abilities.

-Textbooks not selling. Rude. Not only do I have to resort to other means to rid myself of them, I have to carry them around campus all day along with the other books and materials I actually do need.

-The library and Wilk filling with assorted muffins and other undergrads. Seriously, where are you people during the whole school year? All my favorite study spots are taken. I searched for 20 mins to end up sharing a table with a hipster dressed all in green and eating green fun-sticks candy.

-So. Tired. Can't. Think.

-Less time to work at actual paying job = less money to buy hoop earrings for the illegitimate children.

OK I can only procrastinate studying semantics for so long. Adios!

Finals Week.

Bleh. I had a final at 7 a.m. this morning—Monday, the first day of finals. Usually my profs show a little mercy when finals are scheduled at 7 a.m. and don't make us come in until 8 or later. No such luck this semester! Although the class falls within my best subject area (historical English), I was not adequately prepared. And by that, I mean I probably didn't get a nearly perfect score. Poor me. Ah well, I had better things to do this weekend—like hang out with my crazy-busy boyfriend (not my crazy, busy boyfriend, although one could argue that his status as my boyfriend must entail insanity on his part). Plz don't think I'm shallow or anything—I just rarely get to see him these days cuz he's so occupado and I will take the chance when I get it. Somethings are more important than other things.

My finals week isn't that horrible this time 'round—prolly because I am only taking two classes, what a silly slacker I am. Granted, while Middle English isn't that bad, Advanced Semantics is kicking my undersized tushy. I spend hours to get through twenty pages of reading for that class. So I think it counts as two classes. Maybe three.

These are my last two official linguistics classes. Now I am done with my coursework; on to my thesis! Woooooooot. And like such as.

This morn, after my sleep-deprived head attempted to wrap itself around and somehow translate early Middle English texts, I got my Middle English paper back from my prof. This paper is actually prolly the worst I've ever written, grad or undergrad. Maybe even since high school. The poorness of the paper can be blamed on unwarranted procrastination and sleep deprivation. So anyway I was expecting a horrible grade, but ended up getting a 97%. With a little note on the back from the prof basically saying, "so, Sara, we both know this paper is awful and I am doing you a favor with this grade, but this is probably the least crappy paper in a stinky pile of crappier papers. Congrats for sucking the least."


Heh, go me. Too bad school isn't only about grades. Wish I'd figured that out sooner, but whatevs.

PEACE.

Grad School Vlog

Hey kids,
Long time. No see. Sorry 'bout that. In a moment of cray-cray, I decided to go back to school to become a master. I know that I am already a master of awesomeness, but I decided to get an official paper declaring it to the world. Sometimes I regret that decision, hehe. But usually I like it.

My first two semesters almost killed me, as I took too many classes, worked too many hours, and like, didn't sleep. (I'm not being ditzy with my use of "like" btw's. It was a fully intentional word choice; I did it to emphasize the last part of that sentence and to signify exaggeration.)  But I survived (I'm a survivor, I'm gonna make it!) to see another year.

If you are curry-ous about what grad school is really like, check out this awesome video series I prepared JUST FOR YOU. All were made on my MacBook. Last year. Better late than never.

1. Syntax class. It got a little boring sometimes cuz the TESOL kids didn't get some parts of linguistics. Also cuz it was at 8 in the a.m. But I, uh, made it interesting.





2. Semantics class. 3 in the p.m. I like this video cuz it illustrates my head-bobbing dance moves.

 3. Devo awesomeness. I heart devo, and I heart going with my homies (rollin' with tha homies!). I look so dirty and greasy in this video (prolly cuz I was), but I think it captures my joy at being back at devo. In Cecil's presence. That is all.

4. This is an example of how grad school (and not getting enough sleep) made me absolutely insane.

'Course, ya'lls already knew that I am totes cray-cray. Didn't need no mo' school'n to do me in. Mo' posts to come, k?

Sara, I love you. Will you marry me?

Why yes, good sir, I would love to marry you.

Mawwage. It is the thing to do these days ;-). In my new ward, it seems that everyone is getting married, and I kind of love it. My first weekend here we went to a wedding and ate lots of meatballs. It was fantastic. I didn't know a soul beyond my own roommies, so I felt a bit like a poser, but whateva. Strangers always show up at weddings (if you need proof, see President Monson's most recent priesthood talk).

I went to another wedding too a month or so ago and got so into the mood of it all that I started proposing to all of my roommates. See, Utah has not yet gone the way of New York, so my friends encouraged me to shift my affections to the many lovely and available young men at the wedding. One even offered to pay me six dollars to propose to one of them. Unfortunately, a four-year-old pulled the ring out of the cake (a Peruvian tradition similar to catching the bouquet), and I didn't want to put myself out there and get disappointed. (When the little girl got the ring, a girl in my ward said, in her beautiful Russian accent, "She's getting married first? Great, there is no hope for any of us.")

One of my roommates did the flowers for an upcoming wedding in our ward, and it was so fun to have ribbons and flowers and boutonnieres and bouquets and whatnot everywhere.

I really wanted to steal the bouquet, the one that the bride is supposed to throw to all the single ladies.

[I know you want to dance. All the single ladies, all the single ladies, woah woah woah]

But I didn't. I don't think that would improve my chances of getting married.

Speaking of marriage, did you know that is the point of singles wards? What? That is really the purpose behind every activity and event. Of course, being spiritually fed and having fun and building lasting friendships and whatnot is important, too. But our leaders spend so much time and money on activities and such because I think they hope that someone, somewhere in the stake or ward will get married.

I think its working in my ward, hahaha. Good thing I moved here ;-)

In my last ward, the ward council debated whether or not to have a ward directory. By the time they decided to make one, the semester was almost over, and may people were soon to leave. When it was suggested that they wait until summer, a counselor in the bishopric said, "If this produces even one marriage, it will be more than worth it." So, yes, "ward menu" is an accurate term. ;-)

When I moved into my new ward, my bishop asked me about my dating life. He was like, "so what, do you go on dates at all?" He was very interested, as one in his position should be, I suppose. Well, its not terrible these days, but really nothing to brag about. When I got asked on a date recently, I told everyone I know and jumped around apartment full of glee. I even told my mom, who told everyone she knows. Sara got asked on a date, woot woot woot. Don't get me wrong, I was so excited, but kind of embarrassed that it was like breaking headline news.

Marriage would be nice. And awkward dating is how you get there. Better late than never, no? One day I will have a bunch of single ladies knocking each other over to get to my bouquet. Until then, I will keep using ward menus, attending ward activities, being awesome, and going to weddings for the meatballs, cake, and flowers. Heck, maybe at the next one I will actually propose to a real man ;-)