A Summation of my Last Day with J.Lee

Items Inherited:
(2) sets metal chopsticks
(4) jacked-up lighters
(1) rice cooker
(1) Asian coin purse
(2) potted plants (Simon the aloe vera, Josephine the peace lily)
(1) laptop (settings in Korean)
(1) taser/flaslight combo
(1) customized Korean calligraphy, framed
(1) offer of a drum of sesame seed oil
Final Activities:
(1) viewing of the movie Oblivion (it’s ridiculous)
(1) trip to the zoo, which included (1) baby giraffe and watching an elephant paint with watercolors
(5 million) rounds of super smash bros
(5) super mario kart races
(3) French desserts consumed
(3) hours spent on a pink bean bag
(1) midnight sushi run
(1) sighting of his pantsless roommate in a kitten t-shirt
Conversations Had:
“I would feel uncomfortable dating clones.”
“I have a lot of experience with Laundromats."
“Are we going to do long-distance? Because if not, I’m going to let my parents set up an arranged marriage.”


..Asians, man.

Dating a Korean

1) The other day, we were walking down the sidewalk together when another Asian approached us. Without slowing down or breaking stride, J.Lee bowed deeply and said something in fast Korean. We then passed this man as though nothing had happened.
"Wut" I inquired.
"He's older then me," J.Lee replied.

2) J.Lee invited me over to eat Korean food with some of his friends. As I sat down, I realized, terrified, that the only tools I had at my disposal were chopsticks. "Do you need a fork?" J.Lee asked furtively. He smuggled me a shame fork which I used gratefully and discreetly.

3) After class, J.Lee walked me home. However, when he saw one of my neighbors outside my apartment omplex, he gestured for me to turn the corner with him, out of sight. Once nobody could see us, he hugged me. I gave him confused eyebrows. "You didn't want anyone to see us hug?" I asked. "I'm very Korean in my displays of affection," he responded indignantly.

Being Assertive?

Every once in a while I throw caution and normal behavior to the wind when it comes to dudes.

For example, yesterday I was at this boy's apartment who I've hung out with like two times. "Dude," I said, "All my roommates are leaving next semester. Let's be friends."

"Okay," he replied.

"Okay but seriously, here's my number," I said. "You should text me. Maybe I will work my way into your heart, maybe we'll just hang out. Something could happen."

Then we laughed like loons for a while. "Yeah, but you best be texting me," I said seriously, to complete the awkward seriousness of the situation, and I left. Then like an hour later, he texted me. Ha ha ha. Haaaa!

Stupid cakes

I just finished being frustrated with cake--I'm in a vegetarian dinner group (!) and it's my turn to cook tomorrow. One of the guys has a birthday tomorrow, and he is from Texas. I have a Texas shaped cake pan! So I baked a cake to eat after dinner tomorrow. However, I took the Texas cake out of the pan backwards and then couldn't flip it because it kept threatening to break beyond recognition. So now it's backwards Texas. Also my roommates and I were going to frost it to look like the Texas flag, but we had no red food coloring. Thinking quickly, we dyed some of the frosting red with grenadine. Listen, never mix cream cheese frosting with grenadine. It tastes like citric acid and awful cherries.

Scrapping the red idea, we decided to frost the cake blue with a white star in the middle. Guess what, making stars out of frosting is really hard. So right now what this guy has to look forward to is a backwards sky-blue slightly bulgy Texas cake with an uneven white diamond in the center. Also my roommate added two packets of pudding mix and an assortment of dark chocolate chips to the cake batter. I hope he likes pudding and dark chocolate chips. Aaaaand I hope he's getting another form of birthday cake tomorrow.

To all my British fans

Just kidding.
But really, according to the blogger view tracker, I've had more views from the UK than any other country. This makes no sense.

Hey, I went to Chile this summer! It was great. I'll probably post Chilean flashbacks every once in a while, but right now, I want to write about my inane college day to day life.

Today, the place where I work was sponsoring Choose to Give, which asks students to donate money. The money goes toward other student scholarships, so it's like a beautiful educational circle of life. They do this by luring students in with free ice cream.

I was working the ice cream tent, and I actually ended up flinging my first scoop of ice cream backwards onto my shirt instead of into the waiting student's cup. Probably because I was so excited about giving. If I recall correctly it was in front of a group of nice looking guys from my ward, actually, but my memory is hazy.

It was a fun event, despite how cold and sticky my shirt was, but we ran out of ice cream pretty fast. After than it was a lot harder to lure students in. We had free pens (and pins!) but those things really don't move in the student population like ice cream. But I had to stay out there, and so I just ended up yelling some dumb things, trying to get people to donate and take the pens.

Here are some keys to my success: Yelling "free STUFF!" works better than "PENS!! They are YELLOW!!"
"WRITING UTENSILS!" attracts more attention than "PENS!" but I think because nobody actually says WRITING UTENSILS.
"THIS LAST PEN IS FOR YOU!" is too personal. 
"PENS AND PINS!" will make people think you are saying 'pens' twice, once in a Texan accent.
Mumbling "Pens?" as someone walks by is more creepy than effective.
If you aren't good at body language, don't use it to attract customers. I feel like I did a lot of weird open-mouthed smiles, gesturing octopus arms, and awkward dance moves that probably scared people off. I smiled at a guy and shook my fistfuls of pens like maracas and he looked sort of horrified. I felt like I should apologize.

Anyway, choose to giiiiive! Yeah! You can donate online!

FRAYNCE

I WENT TO FRAYNCE!
Also, Germany and Austria. I will post some highlights for you. Just a couple and then more later because my left eyeball is sort of itching and so I am having a hard time focusing completely. Right now. Anyway. Some background information: I stayed with this elderly French widow and her cat. They were both insane. Her name is Madam Dard.
--
Madam Dard: I forgot to make a salad.
Me: Ah, it's not a problem. The rest of the dinner looks great.
Madam Dard: (incredulous look) No, it is a big problem. I want a salad.


Scene: I am making a sandwich. Stupid, psycho cat comes and tries to eat my sandwich. I move to the table.
Stupid cat jumps onto the floor and onto the table and tries to eat my sandwich again. I move to the counter.
Cat follow me to the counter. I slap the cat in the face approximately five times with a wet paper towel. The cat continues making the moves on my sandwich.
I shove the cat into the kitchen sink and sprint into my bedroom to eat my sandwich.


Roommate Amanda and I are going into the bathroom to brush our teeth. Amanda opens the bathroom cupboard. The psychotic cat's head pops out.


Madam Dard: I made chicken livers because I know how popular they are in America.
Me: Ha ha ha. What did you really make for dinner?
Madam Dard: ....chicken livers.


Madam Dard: You have a cold? I told you, it's because you wash your hair too much. That's an American thing to do.
Madam Dard's friend: It's true. You washed your hair today? Do you ever want to get better?
Madam Dard: (rolls eyes) All the time, Americans are washing their hair too much.


Those are some Dard quotes to get you through the night. Also, while in Paris three strange men stroked my hair. Men, that is not okay. Ask permission first. And then I will say no and we can get on with our lives.

How my Life was Almost a Psychological Thriller

One day, upon returning to my apartment, I was greeted by an envelope on my bed. There was no return address, just one of those mail stamps that informed me it had been sent through SLC. It had my address on the front, but no name. The handwriting looked like it had been done by a five year old or maybe a psychopath.

"Roommates," I inquired of my roommates, "What is this?"

Nobody knew, and the general consensus was that since I knew more kids than they did, it was probably for me. I opened the envelope.

There was no message inside, just a big, messy drawing of a clock face. The time, according to the clock, was 6:40. "Weird," I announced to my roommates. I tried to think if any of my cousins would have pulled this kind of thing. I came to the conclusion that no, they wouldn't, and also none of the under-ten crowd knew my address.

Two days later, there was another one, sent through a different city. This time the clock face said 5:00. Things were starting to get a little weird; the two different cities especially. I told my coworker about it in the format of a hilarious story, but my boss overheard and came over.

"Bethan," she said in a very serious voice, "You need to take those to the post office and ask about them."

"Yeah, maybe that's a good idea," I replied.

"And then I want you to go get some mace." she continued. My face fell dramatically.

 My boss went on to tell me the tale of a stalker she used to have (going into great detail, describing the look on his face when he finally CAME TO HER FRONT DOOR, etc.) and my coworker chimed in with a story about how his mother in law had a stalker who was so persistent and evil that she had to move.

I thanked them for their heartwarming tales and realized that Suddenly everything was really, really scary.

What had happened at 6:40 and 5? I wondered. Did I get home at those times? Did my roommates get home at those times? Suddenly I was positive that one of my roommates had returned home at those exact times this week and someone was definitely watching our place and was probably inside my apartment going through our stuff slowly and deliberately with some eerie piano soundtrack for accompaniment. I wasn't even wearing my Doc Martens that day. No defense at all.

I started texting one of my roommates, asking if we could go to the post office and then buy some mace and maybe a rottweiler.

"Hang on," she replied, "I think I know who's doing this."

The text conversation stopped abruptly. Oh. NO. I thought. She has some crazy ex-boyfriend or possessed twin sister or something and WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE HORROR MOVIE DEATHS.

Another text came.

"Yeah, it was my four year old cousin," she replied. "I called them. I guess he sent clock faces to everyone he knows."


I just want to add that when I was four and drawing pictures my main emphasis was pictures of my family standing under rainbows which I would then put on the fridge. But some kids like to mail anonymous clock faces and that is okay too.