Saturday, April 30, 2011

An Ode to the Women of WC

Every woman down in Mormon-ville liked Women's Conference a lot...
but the students who live all around BYU campus, did NOT!

The students hate Women's Conference!  The whole Conference season!
Go ahead and ask why, for we all know the reasons.
It could be because the women's heads weren't screwed on just right,
It could be, perhaps, that their shoes were too tight.
But I think that the most likely reason of all,
would be that you're unavoidably gonna be mauled.

But whatever the reason, the shoes or the hair,
We students just wish that those women weren't there.
Staring at them on campus, with a sour, hateful frown,
we wait for the day that they all will leave town.
For we know every lady that's on campus that week,
will transform into wild, savage, and ravenous freaks.

They ask, "Take a picture?"  "Where's the Marb?"  "How do you get here?"
They devour the ice cream and down apple beer.
So we growl with reluctance and politely oblige,
until they allow us to pass and make it inside
 of the buildings where we have our classes and jobs,
where for a moment we escape the masses and mobs.

As we walk through these herds and the estrogen-filled halls,
we recognize the signs of their chocolate withdrawals.
The twitching and hustling, they scamper about
as they look for the Creamery to cure chocolate drought.
Move out of their way!  At nothing they'll stop,
the Creamery and Bookstore, they shop til they drop!

If it wasn't enough suffering their squeals of delight,
the warpaint they wear, what a terrible fright!
Straight from the eighties, the nineties and now,
the styles they mix, sometimes I ask how!?
How do you think that those pants actually fit?
And your fake tan and big hair make you look like a git.
Oh, and the smells! Their perfumes and their gas!
I understand that you're old, but there's one thing I ask,
spray delay, walk away, it's a simple request,
there's no need to soak your teddy bear vest.
Who'd have thunk what a chore it could possibly be,
to walk around campus and be able to breathe.

But the time has now passed and they're no longer here,
we can now roam our campus, there's nothing to fear.
No more weeping or crying or group picture taking.
No more laughing or squealing or scrapbook page making.
The balance in life is now back in its place,
and until next spring comes, we might actually be safe.
Now don't get me wrong, they're our Grandmas and Moms,
but TGTG, thank goodness they're gone!

Monday, April 25, 2011

The Luxuries of a Craphole

Once again, it's come time to move... so goes the life of the nomadic college student. I realized as I was moving, that in the last 15-ish months, this is my 4th time moving, and in a couple of months, once sp/su is over, I will hop on the moving train for yet another round.

This moving experience was so much better than any other I've ever had... I didn't have to move multiple people's things by myself... I just had to move across the street... I had help from plenty of people... it was really a nice and relaxing move. We ended up moving all our stuff over to the new (and MUCH better) apt the night before official moving day; however, because there were still people living there, we had to put all our stuff in my new bedroom. Not surprisingly, my stuff filled up over half the room while Jesse and David's stuff took the remaining space, making me feel a bit like a girl. With everything -kitchen, living room, bathroom etc- in that one room, it made us look like candidates for an episode of Extreme Hoarders: College Edition.

The nice thing about moving this time around is that I get my very own room! That's right... no more cramming my plethora of crap in the miniscule amount of space that BYU-approved housing claims to be sufficient! Though it will only last for a short 6 weeks, I am treasuring every moment of it. It has been nearly 8 years (ever since my little brother, Nick, was born) since I have had a space to call my own and nobody else's. Between sharing a room with Nick, then college roommates and mission companions, I've been a living billboard for the philosophy, "sharing is caring." Basically, this is quite a momentous time in my life. Come to think of it, I think I've only ever had my own room for 6 years (ages 9-15) in my 22 years of life. It's been SO MUCH FUN rearranging furniture etc. and not worrying about how a roommate's stuff will fit in with all my stuff taking up all the space. I even went as far as to move the 2 beds together, so guess who now has a king size bed!? that's right... I do! David even had some king size sheets (why? the world may never know) that he let me borrow, so it's that much better. Oh, and yes, there are 2 dressers, and yes, they are both full, and yes, the closet is full as well. You'd think that the amazazing-ness of this move would stop here, but I say nay! it does not! Oh the luxuries of college living blossom further with this new and improved hole-in-the-wall I now call home. We have a gas stove, a working lock on the sliding glass door, and carpet... oh we have carpet - real carpet - not the nasty blue-ish green stuff you find in a church or any commercial building for that matter. Also, the ceiling lights in the bedroom happen to be in the middle of the room! I know! Whatever genius who decided to put the light in the middle so as to have light throughout the room rather than on the side so your light in the room is lopsided should be rewarded with all the gifts in life. I understand that this might begin to be a little overwhelming right now, but there's more! The linoleum in the bathroom - it's stuck on the ground. No more nastiness that comes up to reveal the previous rust-orange fake flooring from the mid-70s! Oh, and hey! the freezer happens to actually have a shelf in it! I almost forgot what it was like to not play a mixture of Jenga and Tetris when you want to eat or put groceries away. With all these fantastic things, I think I might implode!

Guys, I think I might be remembering what it's like to be civilized.
Not going to lie, life is bliss right now.

Monday, April 18, 2011

This is HUGE! - Let's Go Get Food!

From the realm of Cameron's friends, another one bites the dust... or two... or three...

In the MTC, I was known for going through companions like a drag queen goes through sequins.  6 companions in 9 weeks is just slightly above average...  Well, I feel that over 3 1/2 years later, the pattern is coming back into effect.
In the last 4 days, I have gone to one old roommate's bachelor party, had another old roommate (well, basically a roommate... right across the hall in the dorms) get married, and seen my current roommate get engaged.

Needless to say, it has been a week of reflection and contemplation upon the words of 2 great men.
Man 1: Brigham Young: If you're a man and 25 and not married, you're a menace to society
Man 2: Papa: "Now Cameron, don't worry about rushing into the whole marriage thing, but for goodness sake!  Don't wait as long as your dad did!"  - mind all you who read this, my dad got married at 23.

But I digress.  This is a time for rejoicing! 
I dedicate this blog to the happy marriages and futures of three great friends

They're real catches, these three!
Dan = Married  Justin = Married in a Week  David = Just Engaged

Dan, you are such a stud... a regular first class breeding horse.  Go figure that the youngest of the group is one of the first to get hitched.  It was nice to see that it was made facebook official tonight... that's how it is these days... not official 'til it's on fb!  It seems like it was only yesterday that you and Justin were throwing me a surprise 18th birthday party at Chuck-E-Cheese's.  I still can't believe how well you pulled that off... or maybe I just can't believe how dumb I was for not realizing what was going on even as we pulled up to such a childish place.

So big congrats to David on getting engaged as of last night.  I'd like to rewind just a sec and interject a little Lindsey quote into the mix so that it has just the right amount of southern flair.  She and Megan were over at our apt when David walked in and told us the news.  Without skipping a beat, she throws her hands up in the air in a matter-of-fact way and says, "Guuuuys-uh!  This is SO HUGE! Let's go get food!"  Yup... not only do her words epitomize the sentiments of the evening, but also the Mormon culture... something big happens, and what do we do?  We eat.  Weddings? We eat.  Baptisms? We eat.  Funerals? We eat. Uncle Bert's triple bypass? We eat (and mostly fried foods or some potato casserole at that!).
 I must say, it's about time that he and Sara get engaged!  But after a week sabbatical from Sara and a date with a girl who is less than half the woman Sara is (everything but physically Sara... don't worry... you're not that fat), David finally popped the question, thus leaving me roommate-less for the upcoming fall semester.  They really are quite good for each other.  They both laugh at my jokes... they both seek my approval in nearly everything... and they both agree that I'm pretty much the coolest person that they'll ever meet.  Really though, she's my favorite girlfriend that David has had.  

Now Justin.  Dear Justin, how I've missed our escapades from freshman year.  Hopefully Brittany will understand and accept your desire to cross-dress in second-hand thrift stores.  Your bachelor party was fantastic, but so Mormon... someday there may be a REAL bachelor party in Provo... or not.  I'd put money on the latter.  Somehow, I don't believe that you would be able to gather 20 men at a pizza buffet family restaurant for a man's last night of freedom anywhere other than Happy Valley, UT. Anyway, I'm sorry that since that blessed year of frosh, we have not stayed so close.  I regret it many times, but alas, you are on to far better and much prettier things than I.

It's so great to see these guys grow up... maybe some day I'll reach the maturity level of a 12-year-old deacon and my time will come.  Until then, I'm gonna party like there's no tomorrow and have a blast doing it!
Maybe my friend Cebre put it best in her oh so tender post from last week.

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Smithson 101: The Language

 So in my American English usage class, we had to do a project of our choice, and one of the options was to create your own usage dictionary.  I figured, hey, that sounds easy, and go figure... I'm a somewhat typical college kid that's willing to jump at the chance for an optimal grade at minimum effort.  Well, just my luck, and this dictionary took much more effort than I anticipated.  I decided to create a family usage dictionary for all those who have ever dared to wander into a Smithson's life.  Who'da thunk that we would ever at some point have our own dictionary, filled with all of our made up words and phrases.  I know that there are plenty more, but hey! it was about 1:30 am when I finished, and I was beat.  Anyway, here's the text for the first crash course in Smithsonology, Smithson 101: The Language.

(I uploaded the files as jpg's, and with blogger's new layout, it seems impossible to resize pictures to your liking, so I know it's kinda hard to read, but if you so desire to read the entries, just click on the pic.)

Monday, April 4, 2011

Bringing Comfort to a Whole New Level

Everyone has boundaries.  For some, they come in the form of a personal bubble, for others, the filter of the mouth brings a sense of tactfulness. 

"To each his own," I say.

I came to a new realization this last weekend of how far my own personal boundaries could be stretched.  The comfort one feels in his own home is great; particularly in the college dorm (I use "dorm" for aesthetics, as BYU's dorms are generally reserved for freshmen and creepy RM's pushing the limits of legal relationships).  This particular form of comfort of which I speak is not that of home, where familiar aromas of baking cookies and the seasonal Yankee candle fill the air.  It's not the peace coming from a luxurious couch or real carpet.  No, this comfort is the kind that originates in the depths of every young adult's repulsive laziness.  It is this comfort that makes every mother cringe... drinking straight out of the milk carton; leaving piles sprawled across the middle of the floor; wondering when that cheese in the back of the fridge was bought, if it is, in fact, cheese.

Well, after General Conference this last Saturday (and eating my weight in cinnamon rolls, courtesy of Morgan, Wallis, and Tara), I returned home to find my roommate David and his siblings Kadi and John hanging out doing who knows what.  Anyway, John headed out to woo some lady friend, leaving David, Kadi, and I to "hablar smack" and whatever else we so desired.  Now let me preface the following before I'm judged too harshly... 
-Kadi and I are VEEERRY comfortable around each other-
Well, about and hour and a half pass by and John returns from his lady friend and we realize that it's about time to head off to the priesthood session of conference.  Me still being in basketball shorts and a t-shirt (I know... I disappoint myself sometimes in not being continually put together) realize that I should probably at least put on some khakis and a button up.  I go to my room and find a clean shirt and a pair of tan pants... maybe not so clean... and slip them on, heading back out to the living room to continue the conversation so as not to yell louder than I already do.  We keep on talking and I'm tucking my shirt in when I realize quite nonchalantly, Oh hey! Kadi's in the room... I'm getting dressed in front of her... my fly is open... my pants are unbuttoned... my belt is flailing around like a Relief-Society Lady's arms...
Sadly, this doesn't even phase me and all I even say is, "Oh, sorry Kadi... I forgot you were here" and I keep on talking. Kadi wasn't really sure how to take that comment, but we all came to agreement that our relationship had officially been taken to a whole new level.

I suppose the question is posed, how far is too far?  I'm generally known for pushing limits and for lacking any form of filter at all.  I say what comes to my mind and am blunt about it.  Just the other day, I said with a full apartment to David and his girlfriend, Sara, that they are possibly the most retarded people I've ever met when it comes to food.  I call out fashion faux pas when I see them (that's you girl with the lavender cowgirl boots) and I'm not afraid to tell the freshman girls living in Helaman Halls that their cellulite is hanging out as they break the honor code trying to tan in sports bras and booty shorts on the grass for the whole world to see.

Maybe someday I'll learn a lesson and karma will come to get me, but til that day comes, I suppose I'll continue in my tactless ways and enjoy every minute of it.