… Even though I SHOULD sleep. And to take advantage of this peculiar state of consciousness that I find myself in, here are some half hearted, but all the same genuine thoughts that have been pressing on my mind lately.
1. Should you find yourself on the way to the health center in Provo any time soon, stop in at your local greengrocers and pick up some decent reading material. I find it to be the most discouraging thing in the world that the only magazines the health center offers is the New Era and the Ensign. Though I will contend that both publications are wonderful, and fully endorse the reading of such, I must say that the last thing I want to be considering while sitting around and waiting for doomed diagnoses (sinus infection!), is the state of my soul, and wondering if the diet coke I consumed the day before will keep me out of the kingdom. Nobody wants to contemplate meeting our maker in a sick and disparaged condition! We want Brangelina! We want the trainwreck that is Lindsay Lohan! We want couch jumping Cruise! We NEED bald Britney! We need anything that will make us feel that even though we are in the pit of immune-less grossness, we’re not total losers. Bring in Ok, In Touch, People, and we’ll try harder to not add anti-depressants to our prescriptions.
2. My sudden tolerance for Natasha Beddingfield is disturbing. Dr. Shepherd (Grey’s obsession) might wonder if this is an indication that I have a brain tumor, but- because of the above predicament- I will NOT be subjecting myself to healthcenterwaitingroomsthatdon’tcarrysufficientlyentertainingreadingmaterial. Natasha may well be the last thing I hear in this mortal life. Her, or fiftycent, whom I love with all my heart. Well, maybe not my ENTIRE heart, but he’s in there somewhere. Immagangstalova.
3. The Ramones: why haven’t they been a bigger part of my life? Same goes for the Avalanches.
4. A dream I have been having lately, in which my year 2 teacher, Mr. Harris, dies under my care and turns to stone in the garden. In the dream, I cry for a bit and fumble against the stone for a pulse, but then give up all too easily and all too quickly in favour of admiring the garden in which I am standing. It’s ridiculously green, like the England in my memory,- so green that I can’t see through the glowing leaves to any sort of road that might lie beyond the trees. Mr Harris’ body slowly blends in with the red brick path that leads to a small cottage, and I go indoors and change the bed sheets. The end.
5. How much I despise my alarm clock: it’s the ugliest and scariest sound in the world and I hate it.
6. The fact that the field of public relations is made up of 70% females, yet management and salary honors a male minority. Come on. Along with this is the fact that I might consider PR-ing for at least a few years of my existence, just because it sounds like a ridiculously fun way to exploit my own love of language, usage, and its powers.
7. The idea that all one human really needs is one other human- and the sad reality that some people substitute this need with other things. Like cats. Even though I rather want a cat. I feel like I should think this one out better when I am of sound mind…
8. Media dependence theory, and how this is practically inescapable insofar as all media is handpicked and all-invasive. I am also wondering why on earth TEENMOM is so popular, and adding it to my list of neverwillIever’s, where it will join The Jersey Shore, The Backstreet Boys, New Mexico (the state), Egg Nog, Nicholas Cage, movies about sports or animals, the phrase “LOL”, etc.
9. The embarrassing confession of the day: that I had to google “FTW” recently, because I apparently never got the memo. I am still unsure as to how to use the term FTW (which means “for the win”- which makes not a single iota of sense to me).
10. The fact that the Library Guy is now in my ward. Creepy? The other day he was in my KITCHEN. CREEPY? I will blog about that later.
NOW I am going to go to sleep, because my ipod is finally charged and I have an unhealthy dependency upon it to fall asleep.