It's Called a "Zomb" for Short

So there's this app.

It's called "Zombies, Run", and it's absolutely brilliant. Want to know why? It's brilliant because unlike many apps, this one wastes neither your time nor money, and actually encourages you to be a healthy, well-exercised being.

BECAUSE IF YOU AREN'T, THEY'LL CATCH YOU AND EAT YOUR BRAINS.

Okay, that was abrupt. I apologize. Let me explain a little:

Zombies, Run is an app in which the consumer plugs in a pair of earbuds, puts on a pair of tennis shoes, and just runs and listens. As you listen, it is revealed that you're a runner being sent to carry out some kind of mission in a well-fortified (although small) town called Abel Township. The township communicates with you via "radio" (of course, it's actually pre-recorded segments that you listen to on your headphones) and you are told where to run, what supplies to pick up, and whether or not you're currently being followed by the undead. In real life, you may run wherever you like, whether that be outside on the sidewalks of your town or inside on a treadmill or track. You just sort of pretend you're going to the abandoned hospital or the neighboring township, although really you run wherever you feel like running.

There's a bunch of missions, fun characters, and a developing plot line that unfolds as you go along. So pretty much it's just another interactive medium for storytelling. They play music from your playlists in between the story segments so you don't have to run in silence if you don't want to as well, so that's cool.

Okay okay okay. But here's the best part. When the zombies are chasing you, you have to run faster. Technology is SO COOL nowadays; when you're running, your phone can feel your pace, and it knows when you speed up and slow down. So when the zombies are starting to catch up, if you don't put on a burst of speed, they'll catch you. And THAT'S why it's a running motivator. Fear and adrenaline--there's nothing like that combination to get your speed up!

Anyway, so I absolutely love this app...Honestly, this is the first time I've ever had a smartphone, and this app is the first thing that I've really felt it would be difficult to give up if I had to go back, hahaha.... But yeah, I just wanted to give you some background, because I want to tell you about my zombie adventures, because they're totally awesome. :D

Adventure #1: First Time Runner

So it was my first time using the app, and I was really excited because I'd heard my coworker, Tim, talking about how cool it was, and I thought it sounded like tons of fun.

I was totally pumped up. I read the initial instructions, put in my headphones, and took off, trying not to run so fast as to waste all my energy before I even had to outrun the walking dead. It was probably about nine o' clock on a Thursday evening, and I wasn't worried. Here in Provo, it's exceptionally easy to find friendly, lit streets to jog on, and since it was still so early, I knew there would be plenty of people out and about, walking around Provo. Mostly students returning from BYU and couples who had probably been kicked out of the apartment by surly roommates.

So I started jogging, and the story began. It was fairly typical for the beginning of a zombie story, but I was excited anyway. It was clever, funny, and.........everyone had British accents. Score! I'm very much alright with listening to a bunch of British people cracking dry jokes and guiding me away from zombies.

But...once the story started getting more serious, I suddenly began realizing how dark it was outside, how very like a stalking specter every single pedestrian looked, and how every single sound made me jump. Call me ridiculous, but I was totally getting creeped out...........Aaaannnnddd.......I was loving every second of it. :)

So I'm getting pretty freaked out as the story moves along. Without giving away any major plot points I'll just say that I had been separated from everyone I'd come with and had to make it to the township without getting spotted, attacked, and consequently digested. Also, I didn't yet have any music on my phone, and so the bits in between story segments were very much eerily silent.

I saw some high-school age boys hanging out in a front yard up ahead of me, and simultaneously I heard the words, "Warning. Zombies: 100 metres" ominously in my head. My heart sped up and, I'm pleased to say, so did my feet.

"Crap. Okay. It's alright, you got this," I said to myself. "They're not that close yet, and they're probably not gaining on you. Zombies are slow." Sometimes I have to give myself pep talks when there's no one else to do it, okay?! ;)

The boys had just glanced up at me uninterestedly when I suddenly heard, "Warning. Zombies: 37 metres".

All other thoughts left my head. I began sprinting madly, wideyed and shouting at the top of my lungs, "SHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT!"

Hahahaha it sounds completely ridiculous, but let me just say that I was in the zone, and at that particular moment, in that particular zone, nothing else mattered besides escaping from the zombies. I watched the boys' heads follow me, wary but slightly amused as they observed my complete breakdown. I can't even think about it without laughing, haha, because even though I didn't see their faces (I was waaaayyy too focused on the impending dismemberment of my brain to pay attention to something as trivial as that), I just love imagining what they must have looked like... Although it is Provo after all, which is a city full of nuts, so maybe they're used to things like that by now...?

Anyway, the rest of the run was fairly uneventful. The story was fantastic, and I made it home alive and all that, and I had a sprained ankle for the next week or so, but it was a pretty brilliant experience all in all. I've never been so motivated to run. :)

Adventure #2: Haha, What The...?

So due to the fact that I sprained my ankle on the zombie run of terror, I couldn't really do anything for awhile. But suddenly, yesterday I realized it was no longer painful! I was very excited. :) So tonight I decided to go on another zombie run, and this time I made sure beforehand to transfer some good music onto my phone. I made a nice running playlist, pulled my hair back, put my shoes on, and I was ready to go!

It was really good. Also at night, also in Provo. This time, however, the mission was a simple running tour of the township, since my character in the story was still new to the area. I felt like it'd be pretty simple, and I was no longer brand new to the experience, so it wasn't very scary for me this time.

Then, music from the Pirates of the Caribbean 2 soundtrack came on. The song is called "The Kraken", which you may listen to here if you like. (TIME OUT--did you see that amazing little teeny link I made? Dad, you should be so proud, I've started learning a little bit of HTML!!! Totally just wrote my own HREF. :D :D :D Anyway, moving on.) You should start listening at 5:58, since it's a bit of a long song. Then, if you want to, you can listen between 2:56 and 3:32.

That song totally got my blood racing. I was in the zone again, ready to be scared. It was an intense, battle, do or die kind of song, and it was perfect for listening to while running from zombies.

Then Runner 7, another character, sent me on a little run to pick something up. There were zombies (or "zombs", as they call them) over there, but he said that if I just put on a bit of extra speed, I could easily outrun them. It was the first danger of the entire run yet, and I was excited to get some zombie action in! Especially when the music was so delightfully serious. I was nervous, but I took a deep breath and set off, ready to sprint if I had to.

And right EXACTLY on cue, the song ended, and changed to.............. this.

I AM NOT JOKING YOU. It was perfect!! I started laughing so hard I almost tripped and fell flat on my face. :D Luckily, of course, I happened to be in the most popular evening area in Provo--the intersection by J-Dawgs and Slab Pizza, where there are always students hanging out at those exceptionally well-known food places, walking home from BYU, or generally milling about. So again, there were plenty of people around to be audience to the best moments of my run. And of course I, who only look like a normal runner, and who began laughing hysterically for seemingly no reason, drew many odd looks. It was priceless, all of it.

So I ran rather gleefully than worriedly from today's zombies, and had a good laugh.

The rest of the run proceeded uneventfully. But mostly I just think I've had completely hilarious experiences with this app, and I wanted to share them. I definitely love it, and I definitely recommend it. It's not free; in fact, it's the only app I've ever paid for, but it's so worth it. I'm having a blast. :)

That is all.

Today, I Celebrate My Independence Day

Today, I decided I'm done apologizing.

And no, it's not what you think.

I'm not sliding into the sinkhole of modern self-entitlement. I'm not deciding nothing is ever my fault anymore, and I'm the one who should be apologized to. I'm not done admitting when I've been wrong and making amends accordingly.

I'm done apologizing for ME. 

Who am I?

I'm a little weird. I make dumb jokes and like things that aren't conventional. I spend too much energy loving and thinking about characters, lives, stories, and worlds that aren't real. And I'm not sorry.

I'm an equalist. I don't think men are better than women. And I don't think that women are better than men. I don't think whites are better than blacks. And I don't think blacks are better than whites. Et cetera. And I'm not sorry.

I'm a Mormon. I believe in Jesus Christ, and everything he teaches and stands for. I believe and follow Thomas S. Monson, the modern prophet. And I'm not sorry. 

I'm a human. I'm flawed. I judge people wrongly sometimes, I'm quite lazy most of the time, and I'm prone to emotional breakdowns. And, because I'm working on improving in my own way in my own time, not anyone else's, I'm not sorry.

I'm addicted to movies. I can't get enough of them. They're my art. There are few things I'd rather do than watch a movie, even though I realize I've watched many that weren't worth the time I wasted on them. And when I'm not watching them, I'm thinking about them. And I'm not sorry. 

I work at a data-entry desk job, where I can only work for 39.9 hours and no more because they're unable to give me benefits. I have no position of merit or standing. And I'm not sorry.

I'm a crier. I cry in movies, I sob over old situations that should be long since unimportant to me, I shed tears of frustration, inadequacy, hurt, happiness, empathy. Sometimes I cry because I fell snowboarding, and it just really hurt. My tear ducts work double time, all the time. And I'm not sorry. 

I'm an introvert. I used to think otherwise, I maybe used to even be otherwise, but I'm an introvert now. I'm shy. I have no desire to meet lots of new people. I like hanging out by myself. Calling people I don't know (e.g. businesses, people I need something from, etc.) irrationally terrifies me. Many a Friday night of mine is spent by myself, reading or on my computer. And I'm not sorry. 

I'm not a size 2. I'm not even a size 8. I'm short. I'm stocky. I have a round face, unruly hair, gorgeous blue eyes, rather large hips, and plenty of tummy fat. And I'm not sorry. 

I'm a dreamer. I'm naive and sheltered. I still believe in happily ever after. I automatically trust everyone. I'm easy to manipulate. And I'm not sorry. 

I'm a singer. I'm nothing special, a dime a dozen, rather commonplace here in Provo. I can't belt and have no particular classical voice talent either. But I'm a good singer. And I love it. And I'm not sorry. 

I'm intelligent. I get bad grades and have no genius status (like Albert Einstein's, for example)  to use as an excuse. I make connections really well. I read people really well. I have a million useless facts crammed into my head. I'm really smart. And there are a ton of people loads smarter than me. And I'm not sorry. 

I wear sweatpants almost constantly, though I actually have pretty good fashion sense. I own far too many clothes that don't fit well, are too old, or just no longer look good on me. I know a lot about makeup, and when I actually try, it looks awesome on me. I also don't actually care very much how I look even if maybe I should. And I'm not sorry. 

I'm a lover of the misfits, shy people, and "geeks". One of my biggest thrills in life is getting to know quiet or awkward people and finding their fantastically beautiful self, the personality that not everyone gets to see. I love being around all those people you think are strange, shy, unorthodox, or unpopular. Being friends with them usually means I get to miss out on being friends with the outgoing, cool kids. And I'm not sorry. 

I don't have very much money. What I do have, I spend on what's important to me. I don't get to go out often. I rarely (read "never") go on shopping sprees. I buy movies as often as I can. I also don't have the money to try and impress anyone. And I'm not sorry. 


I'm done apologizing for who I am. I'm ME. And I'm just not sorry for that. 




That is all. 

A Kid in a Candy Store

I feel like I should warn you right from the get-go that this post is about weddings. 


We've already been through how sentimental of a person I am, but can I just say--I LOVE weddings!


Today I went to a wedding of a dear family member, and it was simply spectacular. It was actually my first time ever going to a regular, traditional wedding (the only other wedding I'd been to was completely excellent, but far from traditional), and I loved everything about it. There were two ladies playing the harp and cello for the ceremony's music, which was lovely, and the pastor gave a little sermon about love, and the bride looked beautiful, and they played Pachelbel's Candon in D of course, and everyone looked so marvelous, and and and . . . well, you get the idea. 


As the 2nd-to-youngest of six and having many cousins much older than me, weddings aren't unfamiliar to me. I've watched three of my siblings get married to excellent people, and several cousins tie the knot with equally excellent people. Suddenly, though, I'm finding that the engagement notices and wedding invitations I'm receiving are no longer from my elders or people I looked up to as being far, far older than me . . . . . they're from people my own age!


I'm growing up. Wait, what? Weird. 


My friends are all finding their true loves and riding off into their sunsets, and I'm still surprised I'm not in preschool anymore. Where did my childhood go? What the?


Anyway, that was a tangent, sorry. I went to the reception of a good friend a few weeks ago and saw a bunch of my friends there that I hadn't seen in awhile. We chatted and had fun, and it was so good to see everyone, especially at such a happy event. Suddenly, one of my friends turned to me and said, "Wow, we only see each other at weddings nowadays." And he was right. We all realized that the last several times we'd seen each other had each been at weddings. It was a sobering realization. 


But a hopeless romantic like myself can't get away with going to so many lovey, mushy event like this and not dream about her own . . . (the other night I had a dream that Robert Downey Jr. and I fell in love . . . . If I had had more time to sleep, we probably would have gotten married. But that is neither here nor there. I was just reminded about it because I started talking about dreaming. Anyway!!) So recently I've been snooping around the interwebs in my free time, checking out other people's weddings (like every other girl in the world, I know), and you know what I love?


Mason jars.





Again, like every other girl in the world. I just keep thinking, "Dude. Why didn't I think of that? They're antiquey-looking, they make for very festive lighting, they are super cheap, and they would be WAY fun to play with and make into interesting things for the reception." Unfortunately, someone else thought of them, and now everyone wants them. In fact, I stumbled on an article completely by accident called The Mason Jar Manifesto which was all about how Mason jars are ruining everyone's weddings and people who use them should be condemned to a firey and horrible death, yada yada yada. I disagree completely (no firey deaths for me!), but if they're popular enough to have trend-haters writing about them, they're far from original. Sad face. :( But still . . . They're so sweet!!


Aaaaanyways. I guess the point is that weddings are cool, you know?  


So this is the part where (since I am not engaged and am nowhere close to being in imminent danger of being so) you, as my friends, go forth and find lovers! Quick! Go be engaged! And then invite me to your wedding receptions!


I, in the meantime, will content myself with attending wedding after wedding of you wonderful people, and will enjoy myself far more than anyone should. I'll cry for you (happy tears of course), I'll laugh with you (or at you, depending on how drunk you get haha), I'll throw rice at you (which may or may not be illegal now?), I'll dance the Electric Slide with you (which will be quite the feat--I'm completely awful at it), I'll eat your cake (may it be delicious--and not a lie), and when I wish you all the happiness in the world, I'll mean it with all my heart. 


And know that while I may not be married yet, just being at your wedding has made me as happy as a kid in a candy store. Or, actually infinitely more so. 


Now, go forth and get married, kids. And hurry up about it. Hahaha ;)


That is all. 

Sometimes I'm Really Not Much of a Girl...

This won't come as a surprise to anyone who really knows me, but I'm not a very girly person.

Oh sure, I like cute clothes, I love boys, I enjoy being told a secret far more than I should, and I over-analyze EVERYTHING. But...I'm somehow not the same...

Last night I was up late doing whatever, and Christina came home from work at around 1:45, the usual time. She came and sat with me, and we chilled on the couch, each doing stuff on our respective laptops, occasionally making comments to one another about this or that. At around 2:20, I looked up and said, "Hey, you wanna play some Xbox?"

Backstory: My brother-in-law gave one of my brothers an Xbox for Christmas years ago, and then when he went on his mission, Davis and I got to use it. It was seriously the best (Tomboy symptom #1: I freaking love video games). Then when Cory came home, he obviously wanted it back, and so we haven't had it around since then. Then a while ago, Cory texted me saying he didn't want it anymore and that I could inherit the Xbox if I wanted. I was SO excited. So now I have an Xbox and a bunch of games. Whoo!!

So anyway, Christina was like, "Yeah, sure." So we turned on the Xbox and played far longer than we should have, wreaking our destruction and recklessness on the virtual automobile world. It was brilliant. :)

I dunno....I don't usually care much about looking cute, I don't weigh myself every day, I prefer action movies to chick flicks, the list goes on. I think that criticizing yourself for attention is dumb. I actually like my image, surprise surprise. 

So I just finished my last day of classes of my first day at BYU. I've lived in the freshmen dorms all year in an apartment with five other girls.

Boy, has that been an adventure.

I seriously love my roommates. They're the best. We've gone through ups and downs of course, and we've done drama like only girls can, but it's been so much fun. 

It's also been really interesting to realize just how unlike most girls I actually am, and yet just how much of a GIRL I can be sometimes. 

I guess the point is that while most of the time I'm not much of a girl, in all reality, I really am one. Just don't expect me to be all girly with you, because honestly, I may or may not be pretty annoyed at you. Then again, I could totally be up for squealing and talking 100 mph with you. Depends on the day, I guess. In the meantime....I do believe I'm going to go beat up some storm troopers on Star Wars Battlefront 2. Catch ya later! :D

That is all. 

The Way We Remember

I've always been a pretty sentimental/nostalgic person. I feel like this isn't a secret. At all. So it shouldn't come as a surprise when I say that when I'm bored, I go back and look through old pictures.

In this way, Facebook is my best friend. It provides instant access to all the nostalgia I've ever wanted. I've even solved the someone-is-trying-to-chat-with-me-but-I-don't-want-to-lose-my-place-in-this-photo-album problem. Hooray!! 

Unfortunately, I realized semi-recently that if I want pictures to look at LATER of the cool things I'm doing NOW, I have to be the one to take them...So recently I've been toting my camera around everywhere, snapping shots of everyone and everything. Sometimes I kind of feel like a dork, because no one really wants their picture taken (which is saddening), or they really want their picture taken (which is.....well, yeah...), but I decided that I care more about having visual proof that I did cool things in college. 

Someday, when I'm like 98 years old, I'll gather all my little great-grandchildren around me, and we'll look at my super old, super awful quality pictures on our holographic screen. I'll say things like:

"See this? This was the Festival of Colors way back 70 years ago!! See how much it's changed since then? What? Oh, yes, that's me. Yes, that girl with about an inch thick of chalk caked on her face."

"Oh, haha! I had forgotten about this! Back in the day, Apple made these silly laptops called Macbook Pros (if you saw one now you'd never believe people used to think those things were 'pro', haha), and iPhoto back then was completely ridiculous! Anyway, it would automatically stretch your face like this to make your eyes all big or your face all fat. Good times..."

"Oh my goodness, I forgot how terrible the styles were back then! This one was waaaayyyy back in 'ought nine when I was in high school!"

My great-grandchildren will all be squirmy and/or falling asleep, but I'll make them sit there with me as I pontificate into eternity about how "back in my day" things were different.....

Anyway, in conclusion, pictures are the best way to remember. And I hope I live until I'm 98 so I can show all my great-grandchildren (who will, with any luck, be just whacko as me) all the stuff I used to do back in the olden days....

And then maybe I'll pull out some super old MP3's (which will long since be outdated) of Journey or something, and we'll listen to some REALLY old music!! Haha, yes!! 

It's a bright future.

That is all.

How Ham Can Be Beautiful and Star Wars Can Stick in Your Head

Hello, it's been awhile!


In case you didn't know, I LOVE FOREIGN LANGUAGES.


I dunno what it is, but there's just something utterly thrilling about being able to speak in a different language. I've been taking German since I was twelve, and while it's not the most beautiful language out there, it's a ton of fun to speak.


Have you ever gotten phrases or even just words stuck in your head? Try learning a foreign language.


I remember way back when I was a little 11-year-old in seventh grade taking my Intro to Foreign Language class, and one of the very first things I remember learning in German was the following:


"Du hast meinen Vater getötet!"
"Nein, Luke. Ich bin dein Vater."
"Neeeeeeiiiiiiiinnnnnn!!!!!"


Etc.


In case you didn't catch it, the above is the most famous scene from Star Wars, the one where Luke finds out Darth Vader is his father. Kalie Walker and I asked Mr. Dean how to say "you killed my father". It was something we just memorized, because it was past-tense with all sorts of words we didn't know, and was therefore the type of speech that was far above our fledgling abilities. "Du hast meinen Vater getötet" (you killed my father) is not the level of grammar one has when one has been learning German for a week or so, but we walked around all semester saying it anyway.


That's what I mean when I talk about phrases getting stuck in your head. Sometimes it's because you've memorized it and you've been quoting it to your best friend for ages and ages. Sometimes it's just because of the way it sounds.


My Italian professor is constantly saying three things (well, he says more than three, but these are the things he says most often): "Esatto", "Perfetto", and "Va bene?", which mean respectively, "exactly", "perfect", and "okay?" or "all good?". Just the type of things any good teacher says to their students, praising us when we do well and asking if we understand. Fairly normal, right? Wrong.


Every single time my professor says any of these words, he says them with exactly the same rise and fall of voice. And I mean, he's obviously putting the accent on the right syllable like he should, but he does it the same way every time, so they sort of get stuck in my head, and all in order like that, because he often says them all together in that order.


"Esatto! Perfetto! Va bene?"


It's almost like a weird little Italian song that plays through my head all day.....Esatto, perfetto, va bene? Esatto.....perfetto.....va bene? ....................esatto............perfetto.................


You get the idea.


Other Italian words/phrases that get stuck in my head:


ti ringraziamo (tee reen-grahts-ee-AH-mo) - "we thank you". Comes from saying the prayer in Italian in class every day.


prosciutto (pro-SHUTE-toh) - "ham". Why does "ham" get to be such a pretty word??? Try it. Out loud. Roll those R's!! Prosciutto. Prosciutto. Prosciuuuuuttttooooo......Ham is beautiful.


niente di speziale (NYEN-teh dee spet-si-AL-eh) - "nothing special". When people ask what I'm up to or what I did over the weekend, I LOVE saying this one, even if I did do special stuff. Niente is such a fun word to say!!


potuto (poh-TU-toh) - "could". Why is this word so awesome? Why, because it sounds like "potato", and I get to use it very regularly in a normal conversation. It's so amusing to me...I get the giggles every time someone says it. Which, this morning in class, garnered me quite a few odd looks from my classmates and professor. What can I say? It's funny, alright? ;)


So, as of a year or two ago, it's been a major goal of mine to become at least quadrilingual. Which isn't, in fact, a word, but that is neither here nor there. At this point, I have 7 languages on my list of languages to be fluent in by the time I die. In order of importance to me, they are the following: Italian, German, Japanese, Russian, Swahili, Portuguese, and French. All beautiful languages, and all useful.


My biggest problem is this: once we all die and are resurrected, will any of us be speaking different languages? Or will we all remember the language we all spoke in the premortal life as soon as the veil is lifted? In which case, will I need any of the knowledge I have about languages in the eternal perspective? My heart tells me it's worth it to learn them, but I still haven't quite come up with an answer to the afterlife thing....


Anyway, I guess the point is that I love foreign languages, and by gum, I am going to learn as many as I can before I die!!


That is all.

Disney

I am delighted by Disney movies.


As an eighteen-year-old, you'd think I could get over them by now, but let's be honest, the happy, clean, friendly, and downright enchanting stories get me every time.


Who knew that a lion prince, a poor Indian boy, a scary-looking french bellringer, a fish bottomed girl, or a stuck up frog could tug so hard on my heartstrings? Oh wait. Walter Disney did.


Many complain about classic stories being "disneyified". This means the original, terrifying ending and several in between rather disgusting bits were eliminated or changed to a happier version. I see nothing wrong with this. If Disney had wanted to show Cinderella's stepsisters cutting off various parts of their feet to fit into their shoe, they wouldn't have made it as an animated movie. It's a chance for all those excellent, classical stories to find their ways into kids' lives without traumatizing them forever.


Okay, so I concede that many (or possibly most, even) people don't actually know how the real story goes oftentimes. For example, Pocahontas did in no way fall in love with John Smith in real life. The Hunchback of Notre Dame ends with pretty much everyone's death, and no one was actually that great of a person in it anyway, except Quasimoto. Rapunzel spends a year wandering in the wasteland (when she thinks her prince is dead) after having laboriously born twins, crying constantly and inevitably going partially mad. Ariel does not get her voice taken away, she agrees to have each step on land feel like knives are stabbing her feet, and in the end she turns into seafoam. So maybe the argument that Disney introduces classical stories into kids' lives isn't quite as sound as it.....sounds.....(no pun intended).


And yes, I would definitely agree that it's important to read the original stories and know what they're all about. But I think that while the originals may be more powerful and may have themes that really get you to think, the time-transcending themes of happiness, goodness, and love that Disney adds to each of these should have a place in our society as well.


I dunno about you, but Disney movies just give me a warm, glowy feeling inside. I love them!! Plus, I'm constantly developing or re-developing crushes on the male protagonist.....Who is always, in fact, an animated fictional character. The fact that Disney can do that makes me very impressed by them. :P


Anyway, I guess the point is that I LOVE Disney movies. And I always will. And YES, my children will be watching Beauty and the Beast and Dumbo instead of iCarly. Or whatever horribleness is on the Disney channel when I have children.....


That is all.