The Finish Line!

A typical scene for my roommates and I on a cold winter's morning:
The four of us exit our apartment, bundled up in assorted layers of coats, scarves, hats and gloves. Alyssa double-checks to see if she has five printed copies of her essay, I check my phone for texts from boys, Jenn eats a cookie, Dia, ever alert, scans ahead.
"LOOK!" she shrieks, pointing to the walking/no walking sign across the street. The orange hand is blinking, and I'm pretty sure it has about two seconds left.
"We can make it!" Jenn cries, and we all barrel across the street, nearly getting hit by bicyclists and negligent drivers on the way. As we bound over to the other side, we reassure those in front of us that we will arrive safely.
"WE'RE COMING!!"
"Don't worry, we'll make it!"
Our friends (that we don't actually know) seem unconcerned, and perhaps slightly disturbed. But safe, and entirely out of breath, we have made it in time to get to English class.
With the end of the semester drawing nearer and nearer, I feel that I am ending it in the same way that my roomies and I cross the street. I've procrastinated these past few weeks, and I am rushing to get across with those last few seconds left. I know I'll make it, even if a few obstacles slow me down a bit. But I just want you to know....
"I'm coming!!--Don't worry, I'm gonna make it!"

Reflection!

You guys, this semester is almost over.
Does that freak you out a little?
I can hardly believe that I've survived my first semester of Brigham Young University. For some reason, it was always so hard to imagine myself at college. College was for old people. It would never come for me; I'd be a high schooler forever. But look at me. I'm here, and I'm actually doing okay!
And now I have a great opportunity to look back on these past few months, and reevaluate myself. I always find it refreshing to take a step back and figure out what is and isn't working in my life, and how to fix those things that aren't so great. Like homework....I've struggled with that one big time. I think it has mainly been the whole "time management" deal. With finals so close, I know I have to kick myself into high gear and get stuff done.
Food is another thing I know I need to work on. I get so busy that it's hard to plan out good, healthy, homemade meals all the time (I'm thinking I probably can't fix this one entirely until next semester starts).
All I know is....I hope I keep surviving, and I know that I'll be armed with the knowledge I need to improve next semester.

Thankful

You know, I'm grateful for so many things in my life. I could probably make a list containing thousands of things. Instead of just listing things, I'm going to detail a few small things I really appreciate in my life and explain them a litte. Okay, here we go!:

1. My electric blanket. (Roomies are probably thinking, We KNEW she would stick that in here somewhere!!!). But it's so true....I love being warm when I go to bed. In fact, I can't sleep--at all--if I'm cold. The thought that I can "preheat" my bed is probably one of the best things ever. Plus, what could be better after a long, cold winter day at BYU than to snuggle up to a soft, toasty blanket? Mmmmm....
2. Good music. I really love listening to music, and I find it to be such a stress reliever and comforting thing to have in my life. I love having songs that I relate to and that mean something to me. They bring back good memories when I'm lonesome or help give me courage when I'm weak.
3. Ability to sing along with good music. Singing is one of the sweetest expressions of emotion that I've ever experienced. I sing when I'm happy, depressed, confused, angry, ridiculously excited....there's a song to match every mood. It also brings me pleasure to hear my own voice (please don't take this the wrong way--I'm not bragging). Although it's not an amazing voice, I like it because it's mine! Oh, and I especially love to sing duets with Michael Buble....Well, you know, with the recordings of him singing.
4. Humor. I absolutely adore things that are amusing, silly, weird, and hilarious. Laughter, much like Buddy the Elf, is one of my favorite things. It just makes me feel good inside. I love having completely random conversations with friends that end in ridiculous amounts of delighted giggles.
5. Rain. I love how all my senses are involved in rain. I love the way it looks, smells, sounds, and feels. It brings me weird satisfaction that I can tell it's going to rain by that fresh, almost-damp smell outside. I love falling asleep to the sound of rain drops pattering on the roof. I like the tingles on my arms when I realize that cool little droplets are falling on them. And I love to watch the rain fall. When it rains, I could stare out the window/play in it all day and be perfectly content.

I could go on....but I wouldn't be able to stop. I love life. I hope you do too.

Stress Factor? STRESS FACTOR?!

Okay. Here are my stress factors for the week:
1. The huge research paper that hangs omniously over my person is due on Wednesday. ALONG with that come the Works Cited, Memo, and the eventual Peer Review paper.
2. Geology Test on Thursday. This is the class that I ALWAYS fall asleep in. Even when I'm not tired! I've stopped reading the textbook, and I couldn't feel any more apathetic. Except I'll feel bad when my GPA drops due to this joyful little class.
3. I have a big event every night this week. Tonight? Ward talent show. Tues? Body Worlds Exhibit/dinner with the aunties and uncle. Wed? Enrichment night. Thurs? Choir. Fri? Well, travelling to Clinton to see some old friends. Sat? Collapsing in a stressed, panicked, worried mess, grateful for Sunday....almost.
4. I have to visiting teaching....sometime soon....problem is, my partner is in charge of setting it all up and she hasn't done it yet and Thanksgiving break is next week so we HAVE to do it this week and I don't know when I have time and I'm not sure if I can handle all this....
5. I have to prepare my Gospel Doctrine lesson for Sunday, which usually isn't that stressful but since I'm so crunched for time, I don't know when I''ll have time to do it!
6. I have to write a Psych paper that I haven't looked at in months. And it is on an incredibly hard-to-research topic, and I have no idea what my thesis is or what to say in general. I mean.... what is there to say about synesthesia?
7. Comms paper....comms paper? Why does that have to exist, anyway?! Oh yeah, and of course there's the project that I have to write an outline/come up with examples/write a script for.
8. Grocery shopping, make dinner on Wednesday, make treats for my class on Saturday night, mend my friend's quilt, do laundry....
9. Study for countless finals.
10. Pack my bags to GET THE HECK OUT OF HERE for Thanksgiving break!!!!! Yay!!!!

Revision!....

REVISION:
My dear roommate Jenn and I have recently picked up the novel idea of taking turns cooking dinner for each other. We were depressed that no one in our dorm really eats/cooks for each other because everyone either has a)a ridiculous schedule or b)a strict/picky diet. Sooooo, we decided that since we a)like to try new things and b)like to have a few days each week that we don't have to even worry about dinner, we figured we'd give it a try.
I've mainly been sticking to really simple things for now: pasta, stirfry, soup/sandwiches, and the like. One day I decided to do some good ole manicotti, which is pretty easy and tasty. When I ran to the Creamery to gather the necessary items, I was amazed that they don't have manicotti noodles.
"What!!!?" cried my brain in frustration. "What kinda place doesn't have manicotti noodles?"
So....I had to REVISE my original plan. Instead of the noodles I sought, I used lasagna noodles--I rolled them up and put the cheese inside. Even though it was messy, and funny, it all worked out in the end. Yay.

Me, In a Nutshell?

My personality style is a difficult thing to describe. You will find that it's impossible to scoop it up, put it in a jar, screw on a lid and peer into its depths, willing it to confess all its gritty secrets. What can I say?...I'm a complicated person. I like to think of myself as having layers, as the movie Shrek suggests; and I maintain the belief that everyone is this way, to some extent. In order to really know me, or anyone in the entire world for that matter, you have to see each little layer a step at a time.

Surface layer: You have all seen the outer layer of my personality, otherwise known as....the "first day of school Dria". A little shy, tends to be quiet, seems intelligent. You may have thought of me as kind, or sweet, or noticed my short stature, or things of that nature. Perhaps we had a short conversation; I doubt it was a very interesting one, unless I was in an especially good mood that day.
Friendly layer: This is when I've gotten to know you a bit, and we're on friendly terms. In this area of my personality I'm polite, friendly, probably still a little shy but bold enough to come sit by you and have real conversations. At this level I show more of my caring side for others, and I start to form friendships here.
Buddy layer: This stage denotes that you know me pretty well, I know you pretty well, and this is the stage I love to show people: the bubbly me. In this layer of my personality, I feel comfortable with my friends to the extent that I'll do and say odd things, vocalize my opinions very strongly, giggle a lot, and seem quite random and bizarre. Once I'm in this phase, I am outgoing, funny, bold, and a complete gem....or at least I hope so. Anyway, I have the most fun in this part of my personality.
Serious friend layer: Not very many people get to know me quite this well. This is where I bury all my doubts, insecurities, baggage, etc. The people that know me this well are often surprised at what they discover--I'm not as lighthearted or simple as they realized. This side of me loves sad music and things that are dark and expressive. I have found, however, that the people that dig deep enough and find this corner of my life become some of the very best and most loyal friends.
The soul and center: I'm not sure if anyone has ever really discovered this layer. I guess this is the part of me that drives everything I do; it's the place that all of my strongest desires and needs in life are kept, acting as a constant reminder of how I ought to live and act if I want to achieve them. I think this is where much of my spirituality is shown; it's the deepest, most important part of me.

Well....there you have it. I'm not so simple, after all.

Another unspecified blog topic....

During my junior and senior years of high school, I belonged to the "elite" choir of Logan High--the amazing Crimson Colony, in all its sparkling, political glory. It amazes me to realize all the food traditions that were linked to our performances. In the evening after the concert was over, everyone would flock to Casper's in their concert outfits and have ice cream together. The very next day in class about half of the members would sluff school to eat at Costa Vida, and usually the day after our conducter would reward our performance with donuts or pizza.
It's funny how food brings people together. There aren't very many social gatherings I can think of that aren't in some way involved with food.

Really? You mean, food affects health?!

I know that all of you are ridiculously intelligent people, and therefore realize, without thinking too hard, that what we eat plays a crucial role in our health. I interviewed a nice gentleman to give proof to this idea. He was imaginary, BUT if he were real, this is how the interview would've gone:

Q: What's your name, sir?
A: Johnny Johnson.
Q: And what are your eating habits?
A: Well....I basically eat at McDonalds ev'ry day, for ev'ry meal.
Q: Do you exercise at all?
A: Nope. I jist stay at home all day. 'Cept when I drive across the street to get me some food.
Q: Are those French fries in your hand?
A: Shoves them in his mouth and chews noisily. Yep. They're mah favorite.
Q: I can see that. And how would you say your health is influenced by your eating style?
A: Ya know, I don't think that's a valid question.
Q: You appear to be on the heavy side....*coughfivehundredpoundscough*. Do you think this was caused by your unhealthy eating habits?
A: Hey, what is this? Some kinda ak-you-zation session? I don't need this! Storms out of the interview.

As you can see, this man's poor health was caused mainly by his dreadful food choices (along with the severe lack of exercise). I hope we'll all take his example as a lesson of how not to treat our bodies.

You Mean....I Can Pick a Topic? Cool!

Well, let's see, what will Andria talk about today? Any guesses?
"Uh....chocolate?"
Nope! That's a good guess, but not correct. Any others? How about you, in the blue tee-shirt?
"I bet you anything she's going to try and tie the Muppets in somehow."
Although that is one of my burning passions, no. Anyone else? Come on, this is so easy, I can't believe you haven't guessed it yet. It starts with a D and it is a place in Calif--
Everyone in unison: "Disneyland!"
Wow....you guys are good. Yes indeed, I will be blogging about the joys of that wonderful place today. Disneyland has been on my mind a lot lately, because I'm going in TWO DAYS. I have been to the Disneyland parks so many times in my short life that I lose track every time I try to count. Sometimes I even mix up the memories and can't remember which trip was which. And my mom has a seperate scrapbook for each of them.
I love Disneyland. So much. It's WAY better than Disneyworld, but I feel that way mostly because I've been to DL a lot more times. I don't even need a map anymore, I know it so well. It feels like home to me. Seriously. Everytime I walk into Main Street USA and hear the familiar happy oldy-time musical tunes drifting through the air, my heart is happy.
The rides are awesomely fun, and each holds a special place in my heart. (Except for it's a small world. That one has never brought me joy). Indiana Jones has the most hilarious queue, I have the "keep your arms and legs in the ride" speech at Big Thunder memorized, I've been stuck on/fallen asleep on Pirates of the Caribbean, the Yeti always scares me on the Matterhorn....ah. Just thinking about the rides makes me smile.
And of course, to tie this back into FOOD, there's any kind of food imaginable in the shape of Mickey's head. The end.

Blog-Diary Entry: Rhetorical Analysis

Dear Blog,
Well, this weekend was a success. I got to chill with the fam, see a few of my good friends AND, most importantly, I ate real food. I haven't had real food since....I left for school.
Actually, that's not true. The food wasn't the best part of the weekend, but it was a close second. The very best thing about this weekend is that it was Conference Weekend, and I was able to soak in some spiritual enlightenment!
As I sat like a happy dutiful sponge and drank in the treasures poured down upon me, I remembered that I had to do an assignment for English--my mini "rhetorical analysis" on one of the speakers. The thought irritated me some, since I was more interested in hearing what the speakers had to say, rather than how they were saying it, but I gritted my teeth and dutifully set to work.
The perfect speaker to write about, in my opinion, was President Uchtdorf. His style and spirit are absolutely compelling to me; I am always awed by anything he has to say. I noticed during his talk that he managed to appeal to ethos, pathos, and logos. The ethos part is simply due to the fact that he is such an incredible spiritual leader; I can feel the strength of his testimony and I know that what he says is true. Then with pathos, he often uses stories that are really touching; during this talk, he told of how his mother almost lost her children at a train station, but somehow managed to keep her cool and not lose hope. And from a Latter-Day Saint's point of view, President Uchtdorf does use logic in his talks. Or at least, it all makes sense in my head. He spoke of how hope gives us the power to fill our hearts with happiness, and that hope is the opposite of doubt. Everything he said was logical in my mind--if we don't have hope in this life, how can we possibly make it through?
Anyway, I better go work on the rest of that mountain of homework that is taunting me from the corner of my room.
Love,
Andria!

The Power of WORDS

It has occurred to me that not all words have the same effect on all people. I know....you are clapping in wonderous fascination from the ingenious revelation produced by the intricate inner workings of my mind. But seriously....hang in there. I'll try to keep this blog interesting. Anyway, I came to this ground-breaking conclusion while sitting here at my computer, wondering what on earth I might write for this week's blog. I was actually thinking about some of my favorite words, and how they most likely don't make sense to most normal people. Allow me to demonstrate a few of these so you're all "on the same page" here with me:

Three of Andria's favorite words; most of which she uses on a daily basis:
~"Gem": a positive expressession of admiration or delight for someone or something. Example: My roommate always keeps the dorm tidy. What a gem!
~"Sketchy": a negative term can mean "suspicious", "strange", "scandalous", or "immoral". Example: Sometimes, the couples that hang out on campus after midnight can engage in somewhat....sketchy activities.
~"Fruitcake": a relatively negative word that generally means someone is a somewhat narcissistic, foolish person. Example: David Hasselhoff....is a fruitcake.


Now that you've delved into the odd world of Andria's vocab, I can move on in my argument. If I were to use these words with a complete stranger who knew nothing about me, they would most likely be confused and think I'm a weirdo. If I were to use them on a friend or classmate, they may find it funny, charming and/or adorable. (Or at least, not completely ridiculous.) I think that in writing, word choice is one of the most critical components to driving your points straight into the reader's heart; if your words don't captivate and fascinate, all you'll be left with is a string of boring words with no meaning. To me, word choice is a combination of not only the literal words you put on paper, but the audience that will be reading them. You must always keep your audience in mind when picking your words, or you may not be able to get your ideas across.

Ethos, Pathos, Logos

As is my quaint little custom, I find it necessary to simplify concepts I have been forced to deeply ponder into silly little things that I can....Apply Into My Daily Life.
That being said, I will talk about the types of appeals used by my own family members when they make an argument.

Ethos: This would be my dad. He's a pediatrician, so he has a certain sense of authority and credibility in our household. Therefore, when someone makes an argument with him, he uses his "authority" to convince us otherwise.
Example:
Me: I'm sick. I need to stay home from school for the next three days.
Dad: Let me see your throat.
Me: Opens mouth
Dad: No you're not.
Me: What?! How can you say that? You don't know how sick I feel!
Dad: I'm a doctor. Trust me, you aren't sick. Drink some OJ and run along to school.

Pathos: My mom is the master of this. She has this wonderful quality of bending her family to her will by using the dreaded guilt trip. I'm sure all of my fellow students have come in contact with this nasty little trick.
Me: Why can't I take the last cookie in the cookie jar?
Mom: If you do that, your sister will feel bad. She will sob for hours and hours, and fall asleep crying, clutching her little stuffed animals to her frail body. But if you want it, go ahead and take it. You sinner.
Me: ....Okay, just take it then! Gosh!

Logos: Well, I like to pretend this is me. Whenever I've tried to make some type of argument, I give (or invent) really good reasons to support my claim.
Me: I need the car for college.
Parents: What about Little Brudder? You had a car when you were his age. Maybe he should have it for two years.
Me: Um....no. No, that wouldn't be logical, and I will tell you why. First, how the heck am I supposed to get the things I need to be a responsible adult and survive on my own if I don't have a mode of transportation?
Parents: Hmm....your survival is rather important....
Me: Yes. Nextly, Brudder has tons of friends with cars in this neighborhood, which would make carpooling easy and convenient for all involved. All my good friends lived out in the Boonies, which would have made it difficult.
Parents: He does have a lot of groupies in our ward....
Me: And most importantly! If I don't have the car with me, how will I ever be able to visit my beloved parents during holidays?
Parents: Oooooh! You win!

See? This stuff is easy to understand.

Different Faces for Different People

The other day, I sent my brother a text. It included a picture of a fire hydrant, and my words of gushing love and admiration: "This is a token of my appreciation for your existance."
Upon reading this, most normal people might have felt a)confused, b)weirded out, or c)offended. However, Little Brudder and I like to use sarcasm to get our ideas across. He knew that my real message was: "I'm glad you're my brother and your giggle makes me smile. I miss your face and am excited to play with you at Disneyland in October!" See? For us, sarcasm plus silliness and a dash of humor equals to love. It's a very special bond.
Of course, this method doesn't work for everyone I come in contact with. For example, because I know that my darling little sister, age five, is too young to actually understand the sarcasm game, I have to be more simple in expressing my love for her. She knows I love her when I say, "Hey! Let's cuddle and watch Hannah Montana!" or "I have a good idea. We should go hide behind a door and jump out when Brudder comes walking by!" or even simply "You're my favorite sister. Come hug me!"
The situation is similar here at BYU. If I were communicating with one of my professors, I'd be very polite, and do my best to get my thoughts across in a professional, formal way. While talking to friends, I'd be much more open and casual. And if, for a completely random example, I was communicating with a very cute individual of the opposite gender, I'd be more bubbly, out-going, and use more obvious body language, in an attempt to say, "Guess what! I think you're way cute!" The way we choose to communicate with others absolutely correlates with our understanding of them.
Wow. Communicating is fun. I'm going to tell my brother how much I love him now. Anyone know any funny insults?

The Day I Saw the Light

Not too long ago, in the land of Cache Valley, there lived a young girl named Andria. Andria was a simple child in the matters of food; meat and potatoes were her usual fare, and the occasional cassarole. This was not entirely her fault; her family was filled with picky eaters, and her parents served what seemed to please a wide audience. Unfortunately, her narrow-mindedness extended to candy as well; all she knew was the world of Hershey's Chocolate.
This fact was the bane of her father's existence. No child of his should grow up satisfied with mediocre chocolate! He knew that he would have to correct his daughter's dreadful ignorance, or else her world would never be filled with the joy that he himself had partaken of. One day he pulled her aside for a lesson in quality. He placed a small chunk of Hershey's in her little palm, and instructed her to eat it slowly, and to notice its qualities.
"Mmm, chocolate!" she said, popping it in her mouth and chomping down unceremoniously. Father shook his head in distress.
"No, no, no....pay attention to the texture. Feel the waxiness? The ultra-high concentration of sickeningly sweet sugar?"
"Uh....I dunno. It just tastes like regular old chocolate to me."
He sighed as she swallowed contently and patted her belly. Father dropped another piece of chocolate in her hand.
"Now, try this. Just savor it, notice the texture and flavor."
Andria put the chocolate in her mouth, ready to devour it in second, but something stopped her. This candy was....different somehow. There was no waxy residue on her tongue as it dissolved, only sweet, creamy, silky bliss. She savored the morsel of pure golden delight, not noticing the triumphant grin on her dad's face nor the sound of the angelic choir singing. Her eyes closed, the universe shuddered to a halt, and she understood. This, this was the reason people lived!
"That, my child, is European chocolate," called her father's voice, drifting into her mind from some far-off land.
Her father succeeded; Andria has never looked back since.

Breakfast of a Frosh

Imagine a most scrumptious breakfast. For me, it would be an all-out feast, containing only the finest in breakfast foods. There would be a heaping plate of hot hash browns, fluffy scrambled eggs with a dash of salt and pepper, fresh, juicy cantalope and strawberries, crispy bacon, perhaps a slice of toast with jam, some hot cocoa with whipped cream on top, and most importantly, a quartet of handome men serenading me as I dine.
Well, this is not what I have for breakfast. Ever. Why? First of all, I don't have any men's quartets handy, so that one really never happens (dang!). And secondly, when I roll out of bed, shuffling half-concious to the kitchen, cooking is not on my mind. I'm lucky if I somehow manage to mumble a hello to my roommate as I rub my eyes and try to convince myself that going back to my warm, cozy bed is not an option. So breakfast for me is a simple affair: all I need is a bowl, a spoon, some 1% milk, and a good portion of Frosted Mini Wheats. Once in a while, I get daring and make myself lightly burned toast and scrambled eggs.
Unless and until I get some men to sing to me, I guess I'll just be slumping over my bowl of Frosted Mini Wheats.