Now that school is out, and my weeks of full-time work are over, I have had some time to actually think about things going on in my life.  Well, actually that may be a bit of a stretch, I have had some time to think about thing (singular) that is going on in my life.  The only thing that is worth talking, or blogging about is my upcoming journey to Jerusalem.  I have  been so insanely busy that I haven’t really had to realize how incredibly excited I really am.  In just over two weeks, I will be on my way to the Holy Land and it will be incredible.  I saw this on a facebook page and thought it was awesome.  Jerusalem here I come, and don't call me Shirley.

Lessons in pretension...

I am sitting here in class, pretending that I am somewhat interested in what my professor is talking about, which I think is the introduction of Tocqueville’s Democracy in America.  It is pretty clear that I am not paying attention, but I don’t want my professor to think that, so what do I do?

Type random words and sentences + looking at professor with a slightly furrowed brow and tilted head = looking interested and participatory in a class that I can only describe as Pretensionism in America 101.  If anyone has a lifelong goal of being able to effectively act and talk as though you are a Gilmore from Connecticut, this is the class for you.  This is the class where course goals include: 1) changing tie preference from long regular tie to bow tie, because it makes you look smarter 2) be able to, when asked a probing multiple choice question, remove ones glasses in a slow sweeping manner, then gently bounce the hand holding them while saying with succinct wiseness “both”

Oh, man, now I just need to be rich or popular so that I can be invited to functions where I could use my new skills.  Someday, but for now just don't call me Shirley.

I created this blog for two main reasons; one, so that I can relay my experiences when I get to Jerusalem, and two, to share things that make me happy.  I did not want, nor expect to use this as a means for ranting.  Unfortunately, at this time I am finding it absolutely necessary to unleash the feelings that have consumed my heart for nearly one whole day.  

Academic Writing.

I just hate it.  I actually enjoy writing, when I can do it my way, write how I feel, incorporate personal stories, examples etc...  I get frustrated when i have to write a paper that is basically a compilation of quotes from various books, newspapers, and magazines, with a few original thoughts incorporated throughout.  The style just doesn’t fit me, I almost feel like I’m lying to my reading audience (which is always only one person, a TA who probably graduated with me and has no real training or experience either).  So in order to demonstrate that fake feeling that I have been feeling, I will use one of the great products of the nineties.  Friends.

In this scene, Phoebe (me) doesn’t feel like her originality and personality (writing styles) are good enough for her boyfriends parents (history professor).  So she tries to change so that she can meet the expectations of the aristocratic parentals.  I totally get symbolism.

Okay so I’m not that mad, mostly I just wanted to put a Friends clip on my blog, and don't call me Shirtley

Family

I think if anyone really knows me, the know that I really love television.  I think I always have, I don't know what it is about it that makes me so happy, but alas, it does.  So you are probably not thinking to yourself, "Well Spencer, what are you watching these days?".  Well let me share with you my favorite TV show.


Modern Family.


This show is absolutely brilliant.  Not only is it absolutely hysterical, but usually at the end of each episode a short commentary on how important families are is included, they can actually be quite endearing.  I think a big reason I love the show, is because it reminds me of my own family.  The loving and caring mom who just has to roll her eyes at the extremely bizarre dad.  The sister who is always pushing the envelope a little bit, and is stupid enough to be convinced that she can recharge her cell phone battery by rubbing it on her static-y hair.  I was trying to figure out how my older sister Whitney fits in to the show, then it hit me.  She's the Colombian woman, mostly because I can't understand what she says half of the time.


I dare you to watch this show and not laugh.  And don't call me Shirley.

Utards in Califoolnia.

We began our trip at church, which is always a good way to begin a suppose. I actually think that it was under inspiration because one of the talks given by a 16 year old sister, was all about dating.  Yep, I’m ready to find my eternal companion now.  

Then came the long part, the drive to LA.  It was pretty much your typical 12 hour drive.  Thanks to one Miss Laura Burton, we were able to keep occupied by looking out the window, scrupulously searching for animal carcasses, hoping to the first to spot one without mistaking a carcass for a shredded tire.  Another thing that kept me busy was the baffling realization that two of my best friends didn’t realize that “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” was from a movie.  Hmm, that one kept me bewildered for hours.  One other difference was the traffic coming out of Las Vegas.  Apparently lots of Californians like to take a weekend trip to Vegas.  Why?  I don’t know.  If Celine was performing in Vegas still (like she will be, come March 2011) I would understand the 2 hour long traffic jam all the way to Barstow, but without her I’m just a bit puzzled.  In fact now that I’m thinking about it, I am positive I must have done something wrong recently and the traffic was just a way for the Universe to get back at me.  How did it get back to me, you might ask?  Well that 2 hour delay was perfect timing for us to reach the freeway next to Disneyland right during the fireworks display.  Touche universe, touche.  So as a single tear drops from my left eye we continue our journey to Huntington Beach towards the home of the Lockharts.  When we arrive we get settled in and join Matt in his office for an hour long tutorial and explanation on the use of twitter.  I’ll sum it up by saying @voldemort_7 is my hero.  

Monday morning we woke up and made our way to Dana Point to see some tide pool action, unfortunately for us it was high tide (we think) thus making tide pools prettymuch non existent.  So after a short hike through across the beach we made our way back to Huntington.  I would like to point out that I have never wanted to stop and eat at so many restaurants on a single road in my life.  California definitely has that on Utah.  

So we spent a lot of time at the beach in Huntington and I ate the best fish taco in existence I’m sure.  I could definitely use one of those right now.  A few hours later we crashed a ward corn roast on the beach.  Corn boiled in sea water, literally dipped into a can of melted butter, doused with salt...yes please.  That was a blast, great food, great location and great people (Hi Quinn). 

The next morning we wake up bright and early and head to LA for a session in the temple.  It was fabulous, and afterwards we went through the visitors center.  I’m amazed at what the church can put together.  The displays and presentations are fantastic.  So after our temple trip we took a drive to find a place called Tito’s Tacos that we were told was not to be missed.  I don’t want to cause the second Utah War or anything so I will just say.  They were good (but Cafe Rio’s better).  Then we acted like real tourists and went to Hollywood and Highland to walk the walk of fame.  It was kind of a bust, there was only one star I wanted to see, we even had an address and we couldn’t find her.  Its okay, my heart will go on, and on.  We drove back to Huntington and shopped around on main street where there was a big sidewalk sale/fair.  Then we made our way back to *sigh* Anaheim for an Angels game.  It was a blast and we met someone who basically keeps all Americans from being hit by an invading airstrike.  So yeah, he was cool.  That night, the Universe decided it hadn’t had enough with me, so of course right as we exit our portal of the stadium what is the first thing I see?  The Maliboomer, along with California Screamin’ in Disney California Adventure.  Sooo, soo close.

The next day was a long one.  We woke up and made our way to Valencia for a day at the lesser park, also known as Six Flags Magic Mountain.  We lathered ourselves in Sunscreen and then began the day.  It was a blast.  The rides were incredible, theming?  Not so much, but when you pay 30 bucks, it doesn’t matter.  The day did begin to wear on us as the heat continued to climb.  It was extremely hot, and the little misters they had everywhere didn’t do much at all, except for make us moist.  There were a few highlights of the day:  X2 (the first time), Tatsu (2nd time?)  If itS NOT one of the funnest rides, I don’t know what is, riding Goliath multiple times, fighting over which park is better with Nate.  The low moment of the day is without a doubt, Scream.  Do not under any circumstances stay on the ride for 4 rides in a row after you have been out in the heat that long.  Its not pretty.

Anyways, we finished the day, the park closed at 6:00 (something that doesn’t happen at Disneyland :)) but its a good thing cause I really doubt we could have stayed much longer.  We took quite a long drive trying to find what we can only assume is the only McDonalds in Valencia, just so we could get large drinks for 99 cents, only to find out that the 99 cent promotion is not available in California.  So yeah, the Wendys right off the freeway would have been just as good.  

We made our way back to Huntington to meet up with some of Nathans cousins on the pier to go to Ruby’s.  That was a blast, excellent fries and excellent people.  The most entertaining part of the conversation was describing our dream ways of dying inside Disneyland and later various theme parks.  I can’t remember how this came up, but I’m kinda glad it did.  Here were the top ways of dying inside Disneyland:  being flown from a teacup and getting stuck inside the little groves that the cups move in, and being severed numerous times, flying as Tinkerbell during the fireworks and having a firework blow you up, drowning in Pirates, then bobbing to the surface next to the people eating at the Blue Bayou, being engulfed in flames in Indian Jones and being eaten by the Yeti on the Matterhorn.  Like I said, this was a great night, it was a great end to a great trip.

The next day we woke up said our goodbyes to our awesome hosts and were back off to Utah, with sidetrips to Cafe Rio (good mexican food) and to get some cheese, because what kind of trip would be complete with out purchasing cheese.  

I loved getting out just one more time before school started, and I loved being able to spend time with some of my best friends who I look up to so much.  I’ll just end by saying, Disneyland is number 1! And don't call me Shirley.

Living with a felon...

In the middle of July I began the application process to go to the BYU Jerusalem center.  So for the past few weeks I have been making a daily trip to my mailbox, much like the ones of yore (yore being the middle of May 2008) waiting to find out whether I was accepted or not.  My family isn't the most dedicated when it comes to this particular chore, but it makes waiting for a letter a little more exciting on my part.  So today, my last day of work before school begins, I figure I would just have to make the trek to the box of all postal delight after I get home.  Shouldn't be a problem since it has literally been weeks since any other member of the Anopol clan has made that ominous 20 foot voyage to our curb.  So I finish work (yay for last days of employment) and am on my way home when all of the sudden my phone chimes.  I pick up my phone to read a text from my sister (Holla! Whit) which reads "Shalome, Welcome to Israel"  (I realize that it is spelled Shalom, but Whitney isn't as proficient in her Hebrew as the rest of the world).  My feelings are mixed, I'm so happy that I was accepted to go to Jerusalem in January, but I was bitter to find out that I lived with a man who so readily violates federal law.  How dare my dear father (Holla! Allan) open my mail!  Does he not know that had I not been the loving, forgiving, compassionate young man that I am, I could have had him imprisoned for five years under the title of "obstruction of correspondence" (TITLE 18--CRIMES AND CRIMINAL PROCEDURE PART I--CRIMES CHAPTER 83--POSTAL SERVICE Sec. 1702. Obstruction of correspondence)

Anyways, I'm thrilled that, barring a psychiatric breakdown, I will be able to study in Jerusalem for 3 months.  It should be exciting.  Stay tuned, and don't call me Shirley.