Fornothology

First of all, if anyone ever wants to get from point A to point B in an efficient manner, do not under any circumstances take Sarah Weakley along as your co-pilot.

With that said, I would like to introduce you to the newest way to giggle at the most mundane words/situations. It's called the "fau" phenomenon, applicable to any person, thing, or idea that isn't quite legit. For example, an almost Mohawk? Fauhawk. A virgin cosmopolitan? Fausmopolitan. Or, as Marcus discovered Thursday, one who thinks he knows a lot about birds and can do a mean impression of a house swallow becomes a fornothologist. (Not to be confused with fornocologist, which just makes you giggle even more in inappropriate public settings. Trust me, it's not a confusion you want to make lightly.)

Two years to go

As of Friday at approximately 8:37 a.m. I completed my first half of college. In light of this somewhat terrifying benchmark, here's a list of practical, and not so practical, skills I think every half-college educated citizen (or just legal worker) should have:

1. Be able to tie a tie- my worldview was shattered when I discovered that in a converstation with 4 boys, only one of them knew how to tie a tie. Especially since 3 of these 4 boys had job interviews in the past month. (The one who didn't was the one who actually knew how to do it.) When in doubt, go to YouTube.

2. Know how to judge a sprinkler cycle so you can run through the sidewalk without getting soaked.

3. If you want to type in a URL that ends in .com, you can type in the main word, hit CTRL+ENTER, and it will automatically add the www. and .com part, as well as take you to the site. No joke, this will change your life.

4. Sometimes it's more important to wait until you have something intelligent to say, rather than talk just for the sound of making noise.

5. Procrastination will ALWAYS bite you in the ass.

I would think that after 2 years of college this list would be longer. Oh well.

a writer's wisdom

Saturday night, author Anne Lamont addressed a packed Whitworth auditorium. Besides reading two of her non-fiction essays and answering audience questions, Lamont informed us that she would tell us everything she knew about everything, and it would take approximately 15 minutes. Though it started out as advice for writers, she easily applied her four nuggets of sagacity to life in a broader picture. I'm not going to get these exactly right, but the idea behind them is still valid.

1. It's ok to not be busy. Each day, take your to-do list, and remove two things. Then spend the time you would have spent anxiously bustling around to just lay on the floor and get licked by the dog, or stare into space. Lamont was adamant that relaxation is the most profoundly spiritual act we can participate in.

2. Failure, screw ups and shitty first drafts are a must. We can't be afraid to make mistakes, or fall on our butts. Often times it takes failure to even realize what you're trying to do in the first place.

3. Everyone is assigned people to help them along the way. We are surrounded by loving and wise people, even if we can't always see them. Allow yourself to ask for their help, whether it's reading a draft or sitting with you watching the mid-term elections on CNN.

I wish I could remember more specifics of what she said, because I remember it all being so deeply profound, but simple. She was a crazy intellectual liberal nut, but she saw the parts of life that were the true gifts, and was able to discern them from the parts that we make important to make ourselves feel important. If you haven't read any of her stuff, you are sorely missing out. I know I added another few books to my summer reading list after hearing her speak.

Happily ever after

In the newest development in over-the-top wedding ceremonies, a designer named Kirstie Kelly unveiled a new line of dresses inspired by Disney princesses. The dresses are not costumes, as some people in my editing class though as Laura and I oogled over the site. They are full-fledged formal and gorgeous dresses that were inspired by Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, Jasmine, Ariel, and Belle. For example, one of the 5 dresses in the Belle collection is very similar to the yellow dress the character wears at the climax of the movie. Dresses in the Cinderella and Snow White collections are much more traditional (full skirts, corsetts, etc.) while the Ariel collection features slinky and more provocative cuts.

When I first was shown the collection, I couldn't stop drooling over the exquisite gowns. But let's face it, I drool over any fabulous dress, bridal or otherwise. And as the class went on, more and more people realized that this was a much more interesting conversation than whatever we were supposed to be learning about (I think it was infobox day, so really no competition.) And we got to thinking, what kind of message are you sending when you "dress" up like a fictional character, especially one that carries as much weight as a prominent Disney figure in the lives of almost every girl. Both consciously and not, we remember the images of our childhood as our examples of womanhood and definitions of romance.

No matter how much I say that I recognize that Prince Charming is unrealistic and "happily ever after" doesn't have to manifest itself in a white carriage and field of roses, we hope that, someday, it will. I'm not saying this out of any particular bitterness, as I'm sure it comes off, but just in the recognition that for many girls, these are serious expectations. As much as I love Ariel and the gang, I wouldn't want their life. So what does it say if one of the most significant dresses I'll ever choose is directly influenced by those characters?

And then there's the issue of your actual Prince Charming. I would think that a dress like this, or the motivation behind the dress, puts unnecessary and unfair pressure on the groom. Because honestly, you should think whoever you marry could kick the crap out of Eric or Aladdin (though it would take a real bad-ass to beat Aladdin, he's legit.)

And for my final argument, no one needs to spend that much money on something you'll wear for one day. It's not worth it.

http://www.disneybridal.com/collections/cn/bridal/cn1.html

The curious color

Last year, I was an avid colorer. My mom and sister left a box of crayons and Lion King coloring book on my bed before they left me at college, and since then my collection has grown to include Power Puff girls, dinosaurs, Disney Heroes all Grown Up, and a few others. I enjoyed the focus that coloring requires from me, and the ability to shift my attention to something besides Victorian literature.
This year, I haven't made nearly as much time to utilize my coloring books. But for my Whitworthian writers, I decided that computerized certificates were lame and meaningless. Instead, I colored and mounted a character on colorful paper.
As I was working on this project, I needed to find the perfect shade of blue for Dori, from Finding Nemo. The original blue wasn't getting the job done, nor was the darker indigo. I had one more option: cerulean. As I reached for this color, I knew that my wildest dreams were about to come true. The vivid blue was the perfect fit for the job, and as I replaced the crayon with a sigh, I was reminded of my many coloring adventures throughout my childhood, and my many encounters with this particular color.
First and foremost, I remember never being able to pronounce it. In fact, my fear of mispronouncing the color kept me from using it, because I wouldn't ask someone for it from the community Tupperware bin of assorted colors that was present at any decent arts & crafts activity. Sadly, I settled for the straight blue, or, if the expanded crayon boxes were available, I might have bravely asked for the cornflower. But never cerulean.
This fear kept me from creating the masterpieces that could be making me millions. The next time you pick up a box of Crayola with at least 24 crayons, check this bad-ass crayon out. You could even ask for it en español : Pasa el cerúleo, por favor. Or the less useful French of céruléen. In whatever language or manner you choose, try this simple test: Color an ocean. Your basic cresting waves with 2-3 black V birds in the sky. Color half with your normal choice of blue hue, and half with the far superior cerulean. I promise, your life will be changed.