the one about old sayings

the one about old sayings

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Last week my ward had an activity where a few suave ward members taught everyone to salsa. Unfortunately, I had a few group meetings so I couldn't go, but word on the street is that it was a blast. On Sunday I saw one of the said dancers and made the comment, "So I heard you can really cut a rug." I was met with a smirk and a "cut a what?"

Since this interchange I have asked several friends, acquaintances, co-workers, and other assorted groups of people if they have a knowledge of this saying. I was surprised at the mixed responses. Most, however, had not. Personally, I think this is an atrocity. These epithets are the core of American culture (ok, that may be a little strong). Still, a conversation sprinkled with these delightful sayings are all the more interesting. 

Here is a list of some of the greats and what they're really saying:

Cut a rug: to dance

Two shakes of lamb's tail: quickly

Oh my stars!: Geez whiz! Wow!

'Til the cows come home: for a long, but indefinite amount of time

The bees knees: excellent, the highest quality

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the one about dinner

the one about dinner

Monday, January 21, 2013

I used to really hate cooking. It takes soooo long, makes a huge mess, and you only get one meal out of it. It seems like a low return-on-investment. Last semester, however, the roommate (Katie) and I decided that we wanted to improve our (my) abismal cooking skills. We invite a few boys from the ward and other friends over each Sunday and cook up some masterpiece. (This may be a little bold, but it usually turns out really well...or so we're told.) We've made everything from baked apples to pozole to butternut squash soup. I think it's fair to say that we've been well fed this school year and I actually really like to cook now :)

Yesterday we decided to make homemade pizzas. I found this delightful recipe for a pear gorgonzola pizza. Katie and I bought all the ingredients on our trip to Smith's (who has gorgonzola just laying around?),  and began cooking an hour before dinner. We rolled the dough, piled it high with spinach, cheese, and walnuts, baked it, and began anticipating that glorious moment when the prayer had been said and it was time to eat! 

When that moment finally came it was beautiful :) The dough was just sweet enough, the cheese melted perfectly, and the pear had caramelized juuust a little bit. It was perfection! Mama and Papa Lo would have been proud!

To finish off our pizza, we made pazookies for dessert. For those of without a knowledge of this delicious dessert let me enlighten you:

A pazookie is a giant chocolate chip cookie (or other variety of cookie) that baked until just before it is done. The center of the cookie is still a little bit doughy, but that's exactly how you want it. After you pull it out of the oven you put a huge scoop of vanilla ice cream on top and dig in. It is one of the best desserts on the planet! Whoever invented it should probably win some major annual award....every year from now until eternity! 

Pre-baked

Right out of the oven...isn't it beautiful!

Behold: the Pazookie 

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the one about my shoes

the one about my shoes

Saturday, January 19, 2013

Remember how great my first day of school was so? Well, my second Monday went just as swimmingly. I rose at the early hour of 6:45am. (I have this resolution to wake up early and get tons of things done in the morning...so far, so good.) I read my scriptures, straightened my hair, picked out a great outfit (Audrey Hepburn meets Provo...yes). This particular Monday I had something incredibly witty and pressing to tell my mother so I dialed her number and began frantically telling her my story.

At this point I am outside in the arctic weather that has become Provo's norm. Personally I think Provo is showing off with this whole winter thing, but that's a whole other post... I had left for class a little late  so I was sprinting, or at least trying to while not falling on the ice. I wrap up my story and hang up with my mother. By now I am at the McKay building, just beyond the half-way point between my apartment and the Tanner building (my second home). I am frozen, almost late, and stressed that I am going to expected to say something intelligent in class. I look down at my feet and see this....

Take a good look, ladies and gentlemen...I am wearing two different shoes. One is shiny and black, while the other is velvet and navy. In my defense, they are the same shoe, just different colors. I now have two decisions:

1) I could continue on my way to class and hope no one notices. Or if someone does notice my lack of fashion sense I could write it off and totally make a statement out it

2) I could run home, change, and be even later to class, covering up my mistake.

I decide on the latter. I know, completely unnecessary and not even that big a deal, but I just couldn't do it. I'm just a little too afraid of the fashion police, so I wasn't going to risk it. I dash home, change into boots (it's hard to make a mistake there), run back to the Tanner building, and discuss Coke and Pepsi for the next hour and a half. The rest of the day was uneventful, but at least my shoes matched!

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The One About the First Day of School

The One About the First Day of School

Monday, January 7, 2013

Once upon a time there was a maiden, fairest in the land...ok, just kidding. This is not one of those stories, nor is this the story about a girl name "Lucky" or about girl who cried a river and drowned the whole world. This is a story about me and my first day in the Strategy program. 

The morning started cold and grey outside. I put on my new leopard print shirt and began the brisk walk to campus. I ran to the ATM to withdraw cash for my Managerial Economics book I was buying for significantly cheaper than listed at the bookstore, bought the book, and headed to strategy. This class is going to be...interesting. I am loving the content, but it is definitely going to be a ton of work. I frantically took notes and before I knew it it was time to switch to my next class.

I went up one floor to my Organizational Behavior class. Slowly my classmates trickled in and I realized that I knew a majority of them. This semester was shaping up very nicely. Class ends, I make a quick trip to the water fountain and settled in for another hour and a half of class. This is where my day gets interesting. The professor begins to call roll and skips my name. "Weird," I think. I turn to my friend sitting next me (also in the strategy program so we just walked to class together) and ask if this is room 310. He informs me that this is room 308, meaning that I have sat through the wrong class two classes in a row.

I start trying to decide if I should awkwardly get up, announce that I'm in the wrong class, and make a dramatic exit or sit quietly and pray that the professor overlooks the fact that I failed to introduce myself. I decide on the latter and try to make myself melt into my seat so he continues to overlook me. He begins his lecture and it seems that he isn't going to notice me. It's then that I realize how great this professor is (plus he looks like Alan Rickman). So I think...maybe I should switch into this class. But it wasn't meant to be. None of the other classes fit into my schedule. So until next time, Alan. 

No joke...he looked exactly like him

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The One with Maggie Smith

The One with Maggie Smith

Sunday, January 6, 2013

Another current obsession, but I love Downton Abbey. So charming, so witty, and the dresses are fabulous. Plus Maggie Smith is in it, what else do you really need? She has the best lines in the whole series and says clever things like this:

Can I get an Amen?

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