Monday, October 17, 2011

Fielding Compliments

I'm sitting outside the Bishop's office, talking to some friends and not going to sunday school.

Unknown boy at the other end of the hallway: "Hey! I think you look like Audrey Hepburn from the side!"

Me, taken aback and responding impulsively to unknown boy's unexpected comment: "Why, because I'm bland and have giant cartoon eyes?"

Unknown boy, with a single tear rolling down his cheek: "I'll never speak to a woman again."

Me: Dammit.

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

I'm Back

I have survived my adventure and am now back in school.  However, I don't particularly feel like writing about it right now.  So, instead of telling stories, I will post a film that I and three other kids made for school last year.

It's about wrestling, so prepare yourselves.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

A Post

I know you're all dying to find out what's happening in my life, so I shall tell you.  First things first, I'm leaving to go on a study abroad tomorrow.  Destinations include Australia, New Zealand, and Fiji.  The program is offered through the recreation management program.

"But Drew," you say, "you're not a part of the rec. management program."
"Quite right." I reply while stirring my tea, monocle perched daintily upon my cheek.
"So you mean to say that you're going on a completely superfluous study abroad?" you gasp, "Don't you know how wasteful that is?!"

Yes, going on a study abroad where I get no credit that is of use to me is quite unnecessary, if not wasteful.  But guys.  What about FUN?  We camp, backpack, scuba dive, snorkel, skydive, black water raft, eat stuff and go to beaches.  It's a very rigorous academic program, to be sure.  So, when I get back, I'm sure I'll have all sorts of fun happenings to blog about.

But for now, a story.  I wanted to get my hair cut pretty short for this trip so I wouldn't have to deal with it very much.  1 and a 1/2 inches, probably.  So, I waltzed on over to my friend's (Annie)  house to utilize her mom's (Susan) sweet hair cutting skills.  When I got there, Susan was on the phone.  Annie said that Susan was probably going to be talking for a while, so Annie suggested that she do the cutting herself.  We got the buzzer out, selected what we thought was the appropriate extension for my desired hair length, and went out to the backyard.  I sat down and Annie ran the buzzer across the top of my head.  She got a look on her face.
"What? Is it pretty short?" I ask.
"Oh, it looks fine." she says.  She finished the rest of my head and I looked in a mirror.

As it turns out, we severely miscalculated the length of the buzzer extension.  My desired short pixie turned into a straight up Sinead O'Connor.
Annie reassured me that it looked fine while I had a series of tiny panic attacks.  Susan, finally freed from her conversation, suggested that I stay away from collared shirts for a while.

But behold! I have recovered from my initial shock and now accept my situation.  Zero maintenance!  I look forward to several weeks of being mistaken for a boy, a recovering cancer patient, and a lesbian, in that order.

See you in 5 weeks!

Friday, April 22, 2011

An Easter Treat

On this Easter weekend, I would like to share with you all a story from the March 2008 issue of that fine LDS children's publication The Friend.  I hope it will give you cause for some fruitful introspection.

Candy, or Kindess?
By Annette Alger
(Based on a true story)

It was almost time for the town’s annual Easter egg hunt. Children lined up along the edge of the lawn, waiting for the signal to begin hunting for candy that had been scattered everywhere. This year there were other prizes too. Brightly colored plastic eggs had been hidden in the grass, and whoever found one could redeem it for a big candy bar.
Eight-year-old Justin saw one of those eggs lying not far away. As soon as the signal was given, he ran straight for it. He grabbed the egg, then noticed another one close by. Quickly, he retrieved it too. He gazed down at his hands, each now holding a plastic egg. He was so excited. He was not only going to get one, but two delicious, gigantic candy bars!
Then he looked up and saw a mother with her two sons. He could see that the boys were blind, and their mother was holding their hands trying to help them find some treats. As Justin watched them, he noticed that before the mother could lead her sons to candy, another child would spy it and promptly scoop it up. This happened again and again. The hunt was almost over and the boys’ hands were still empty.
Once more, Justin looked down at his hands and his treasured eggs. Then he quietly tiptoed over to the boys, bent down, and placed an egg on the ground by each of them. The mother, with a tear streaming down her cheek, mouthed the words, “Thank you.” She guided her sons’ hands downward and they discovered the precious eggs. Their faces lit up with excitement. Justin got a big grin on his face. He didn’t get any candy bars that day, but he still felt like a winner.

Have a great easter weekend, everyone. 

Thursday, March 17, 2011


Test results are back.  Litha does NOT have tuberculosis, just a raging chest infection that apparently leaves holes in her lungs.  So, that's unfortunate.  But at least it's not TB.

In other news, this.

Backflip FAIL Gif - Backflip FAIL

What's Been Happening

I turned 20 on monday, so that means the blog gets an update.

I was going to write a post about how my Cambodian roommate's Brazilian fiance always pees on our toilet seat and doesn't wipe it up, but then something way more interesting occurred.

Although I might have fabricated some dialogue, the following events really happened.

Tuesday Night, 9:00 pm.  Provo, Utah.

Mary and Rachel are sitting on a couch in their dingy apartment.  A Mary Kay representative sits opposite them, attempting to hawk her wares.

"Don't be afraid to really rub it in, ladies.  This exfoliant is military grade.  It's what the Marines use!" she chirps.

"Yes, I can feel the freedom seeping through my pores!" enthuses Rachel.  The women laugh heartily.  Just then, their happy gathering is interrupted by the sound of violent coughing from the other room.  The coughing is followed by a voice.

"Mary, can you come here?"  Mary obeys the voice.  She rounds the corner to find Litha standing over a blood spattered sink looking confused.

"Huh." Mary says.  "I think we need to go to the emergency room."

Mary summons Rachel to come and assist her.  Litha runs to the toilet and vomits bloody mucus.  Mary takes a sample.  Rachel attempts to help Litha put her coat on.  Renee emerges from her bedroom looking confused.  The Mary Kay representative hurriedly gathers up her things and leaves in a panic.  Mary, cursing The Fates as she does so, grabs her good mixing bowl and holds it in front of Litha's face.

"Let's roll."

Cut to black.

Two Hours Later...

Drew stumbles into the apartment.  It's strangely quiet.  She adjusts her glasses and hikes up her pants.

"Hey! Where is everybody?!"

Renee, sitting cross legged on the floor while watching Treasure Planet, whips her head around violently.

"Did you hear what happened to Litha?!"

Renee relates the nights happenings to Drew.  Drew immediately calls Mary.  Mary answers.  Drew asks her what the hell.  Mary, sniffing in disdain at Drew's foul language, tells her not to worry, that the doctor thinks it's just bronchitis or something, says that she will call back when they know more.  She hangs up.  Drew and Renee converse.

'Bronchitis,' they say, 'You don't cough up blood when you have bronchitis, do you?' 'I'm not a doctor.' 'I'm aware of that.'

 Renee goes back to Treasure Planet while Drew logs onto her trusty medical diagnosis sites.  At one point, she makes her way to bathroom, where she finds a glass of what looks like Kool-Aid on the counter.

"What's in this glass?" she asks.

"Oh," says Renee, "That's Litha's water."

"It's red."


Drew throws the glass and its contents in the dumpster.

One Hour Later (12:00)...

Mary calls Drew.

"So," she says. "The doctors were pretty sure it was Bronchitis until they took a chest x-ray.  I guess the x-ray wasn't normal, because they came back and said they wanted a CT scan.  They took one and found a cavity in her lung."

"What does that mean?"

"Like a hole."


"Anyway, that wasn't good, so they drained her lungs and ran some tests on her blood and stuff.  At this point, they had taken out all the other patients in the room and closed the doors.  The nurses were wearing full on body suits.  Rachel and I were breathing through our shirts because we didn't know what was going on and they didn't give us masks.  Then a lung specialist came in and told us that they had narrowed it down to three things; fungal infection, tuberculosis, or lung cancer.  Since Litha's Cambodian, they think tuberculosis is the most likely.  Now we're waiting for them to take her to her own room because she has to be quarantined for three days.  Litha's crying and freaking out because she doesn't have insurance and I had to throw away my mixing bowl because it was full of lung blood."

Drew gets off the phone.  She relays the information to Renee.  They begin to laugh nervously.

"Why are you laughing?" asks Renee.

"I don't know, this isn't funny"

"Well, what should we do?"

"I have no idea."

"Do you know any doctors?"

"Yeah, but I don't think that's going to do us any good.  Also, it's almost 1:00."

"Yeah, but what do we DO?"


So, Renee and Drew turn on The White Album, break out the bleach and the latex gloves, and begin scrubbing.  They scrub the blood off the sinks.  They fill the toilet with Comet.  They throw away Litha's toothbrush.  They eat a whole chocolate cake.  They clean into the wee hours of the morning, getting high off cleaner fumes while feeling more and more panicky, a feeling that is not exactly eased by the less than soothing sounds of Revolution 9.

Mary and Rachel arrive back at the apartment at 3:00.  The four girls go to bed soon after, resigned to the fact that they will probably be dead in a few weeks.

So, that's what happened.  Litha is still in the hospital.  The tests are still inconclusive, so we don't know if we're slowly dying or not.  We'll see.  Stay tuned.  The good new is that the Brazilian fiance won't be by to pee on our toilet for three days.