Just a Man about a Fish

I have an amazing opportunity this semester to interview people. I am signed up for a class called I-Comm and with it I have the chance to be a reporter for the on campus news station. At the beginning of the semester I was assigned the Science Beat.

Joy.

Not only am I terrible at science but I have the job of finding something interesting to talk about it within the realm of the campus and my resources.

Week 1: I did a story about the fitness classes. Ok, health sciences is not technically under my jurisdiction but I made it work
Week 2: Planetarium. On campus there is a planetarium and it is pretty fantastic.
Week 3: Chemistry Society. I have some pretty great footage of a balloon blowing up.
Week 4: This is this week. It is about the aquarium.

You see, over the summer break, something happened and all the fish died. It was actually a very big tragedy as it was around 2 dozen fish found dead one morning when the person to check on them the night before knew they were ok.
I interviewed a man who loves fish.
It may seem ridiculous but I envy him. He has found his passion and is living that. He hopes to be a marine biologist.
I want that.
Not a fish, not a marine biologist, but a passion. Something I can grab on to and never ever let go. I want that constant, my north star.
But I guess until that day comes, I will keep wishing on those falling starts until one decides not to fall.

Fun Fact

You can bruise your eye. I did.

My Favorite Color Is Orange

I consider a favorite to be something that you return to again and again. It is something that draws your attention and keeps it there. Let me back up.

A few weeks back was my first week in a new ward. New people, new seats, new time. My roommates and I took a seat and waiting for the rest of the ward to file in and take their seats. In the row in front of us my eye caught something beautiful. It was bright, it was exciting, it was unique. This orange watch kept my attention not to mention the growth of wondering who would invest in such fantastic wrist wear.

Lucky me that the owner of the watch was a tall, in and out of the dark handsome guy.
It was like middle school all over again. My tongue swelled up, i got butterfly bumps and gooses fluttering in my tummy. Ya, he's that good looking.

As time went on I kept one eye open, scoping for an opportunity to make a classy introduction. Maybe he would be playing tennis and the ball would be a high flier. Frantically they would be searching when the crowd would part and I would have the tennis ball. Or maybe I would drop a house on his long time enemy, heroine and love interest all in one. Maybe I would be stuck with him as a lab partner and after some time and our love grew i would find out he was a prince. Anyway. . . .

Today was going to be another chance to make a great introduction until he walked into church hand in hand with a fine young lady.

I realize this isn't the end of the world. I should have figured considering where I am combined with the fact that i don't even know the guys name. . . . maybe I didn't exactly have a chance with him but a girl can dream.

I guess there will be other Orange-Watch-Men to occupy my thoughts later on but for now, a moment of silence for my almost favorite.


For all of you who were wondering what this stud looked like. I know, he's traffic stopping.

I wish that airplanes in the night sky. . . .

I don't. I don't wish that airplanes in the night sky were like shooting stars. I wish they all led to Neverland.
I want to play with pirates, swim with mermaids, believe in fairies, and sneeze from Pixie dust.

I won't grow up, I won't I won't I won't.

Sometimes I'm Just Breathing

I have never been a good swimmer. I was that kid that got yelled at by the swim instructor for crying because of the water getting in my eye. Let's face it, chlorine stings.
I remember when I was six or seven and my best friend had a pool party. I didn't want to be the lame kid out so I held on to the edge and laughed and splashed along with everyone else. After some time I got a little more daring and would let go of the wall, thrash about to stay above water, and grab the edge again.
It was on one of these endeavors that I splashed a little too far. My arms got tired and I began to sink. I kept myself at the waterline, far enough up that I could see but no far enough that I could breathe. I was terrified. Swallowing water and reaching for the edge I thought I was going to die. What felt like forever was probably just seconds and I am alive today. The one thing that has not left me from this experience was that feeling, an overwhelming desire for air.

Here I am, at a university, facing my first full week back for Fall Semester. Hour by hour it seems that the homework comes and due dates come faster. I am stuck thrashing about in the water, too scared to let go of the edge for fear that when I do I won't float. Even greater than this fear is the overwhelming desire for air.
There is only way to overcome these fears. Just do it. (Thanks to Nike for that one.)
When you let go of the edge you see what you are made of.
When you let go of the edge, you can sink or swim, it is up to you.

Take a deep breathe and go.

Sepia Tone Summer

So the kids all joined together in a down-right magical musical number and they had a summer after all!
I didn't exactly have that Disney Channel Original movie moment but I did have some pretty great times this summer. Like anyone who has ever watched late night television I suppose the best way to go about this would be to write a top ten count down list.
...
After some consideration I have realized that I did not have enough moments to come up with ten so I'll just tell you what I did.

Worked

Saw G. Love and Jack Johnson in concert

Played in the pool

Watched Friends

Now I continue forward to the excited adventures of a new semester. I'll take a deep breathe now.
Wish me luck!

I always knew he liked Coldstone

A little over a year ago, a dear friend of mine passed away. At least, I am sure that Michael Jackson and I would be friends if we met. Around the time of his passing we at Coldstone were all very shaken. At night we would wear one latex-free glove in honor of his memory. Like the rest of the world we dusted off our old records and played his hits intermixed with today's excuses of good music.

I do not have an Ipod or any sort of MP3 player. I know that I should probably get with the times but I have this things where I can not stand spending money.
Ipod=Money=Cyndi not having an Ipod.
I was lucky however, for a time when my sister left the country and left her Ipod in my care. I made a Coldstone playlist with Michael Jackson along with other not-so-important songs.
Whenever we had a slow time without customers we, as a crew, would talk about Michael Jackson. This is when his songs would come.
Reasonably, I assumed the only assumption that could be made, Michael Jackson possessed the Ipod.

* * *

Working any length of shift without music is asking for a one way ticket on the Loony Train to Insanity-ville. To help with us Ipod challenged people our boss brought in a CD player. Many members of the crew made mixes to play in the store. After time the CD player has started to give up on us - here and there it plays and the rest of the time, well it might be playing we just can't hear it. (It's like that riddle, if a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?)
Yesterday I was working a fourteen hour shift. Yes. With no music.
That last sentence isn't entirely true. I did put in CD into the ADHD player in hopes to get a song or two.
The player would start by itself, but only when a Michael Jackson song came up on the CD.
Michael Jackson likes Coldstone.

I knew it.