And etc…

The highlight of this post is that I’m still alive. If that’s all the info you were looking for, feel free to stop reading now. If not, well, when have my posts ever been informative? Really? Have you read ANYTHING I’ve ever written before? Your expectations may be too high.

So over winter break (can we call it Christmas break or is that against the law? Just wondering.) Matt and I ventured to Iowa for two weeks. A long two weeks. Don’t get me wrong; we mostly like you guys. But we like having our stuff around and a place to hide a little more. Also, what’s up with that wind chill? We don’t have that in Utah. Never once here have I been worried my arms would fall off due to cold. I’ve been worried I might be burned on a stake, but never frozen to death. (Thankfully, I’m pretty sure no one knows what a stake is here, and burning people alive would probably start a wildfire, which would be largely frowned upon. Instead, I might just be shot for my apparently extreme viewpoints–like, that eight children seems like a lot, women can have careers and children, and women can be authority figures, maybe even in a…religious capacity. Hopefully those that read this in Utah have bad aim.)

So we survived Iowa and the forever journey back to where we keep our stuff and then we promptly started a new semester in which Matt decided to take four classes. Clarification: four graduate classes. I occasionally see him now, but usually it’s from afar as he’s doing homework. It’s sort of like I’m researching male graduate students in their natural habitats. He wouldn’t be surviving without me cooking for him, and well, we know that’s just barely surviving. As of yet, no deaths have been reported due to my domesticity, or lack thereof.

Beyond classes and the insane amount of reading I’m currently doing for my comp exam in March, I was coerced into participating in a Scrabble tournament the other night. It was for charity, and I was a last-resort recruit. So I said ok. I failed to consider both my lack of Scrabble talent (and experience) and my incredible sense of competition. When combined, I become pretty mean. I may have yelled at a teammate who suggested there needed to be an apostrophe in a certain word. There are no apostrophes in verbs! Unless there is an exception that I was unaware of at a late hour of night/evening. We lost both games by a decent amount. My teammates wanted to leave so badly we ran out before the winners were announced, though it’s safe to say we were probably third to last place, in front of maybe some kids and foreign teams. Maybe not, though. I guess I’ll sadly never know. If I ever repeat that experience I have to make sure I get teammates who hate being there less than me and who don’t realize how mean I get when I can’t do well at something. Eh. That’s just a charming facet of my personality.

Well, I should go read some more. Or maybe I will clean the entire house instead. Sounds more pleasant.